#I’ve been struggling a bit with drawing dragons which makes me sad cause their my fav

[raeathnos]

.

[volganic]

Eyes like yours

[AO3] || [discord] guess who didnt want to write important things like the next chapter of song? or any of my other unfinished drafts? guess who wanted to write a whole new thing based off a song by shakira? it’s me

Hyrule Castle was under siege. 

In the blink of an eye, monsters and fire laid waste to the green of the undisturbed fields that surrounded the castle. It was terrifying how quickly the pace of battle moved and washed over the Hyrulean forces, but Link moved quicker. Where the other trainees stood by in the safety of the walls of the castle, Link was out in the thick of it, fighting side by side with his more seasoned captains without a second to waste. Every second counted.

It might have been his first time taking the lives of enemies, but his actions didn’t go unnoticed as he cut his way through the waves of the grotesque monsters. The general herself, Impa, took note of how he took charge of the situation; she mentally thanked the three that there was still hope in light of these rapidly darkening times. She marched over to the rookie soldier after cutting through a duo of raid captains that dared to cross her, and planted a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no time to thank you properly, trainee,” she began as Link turned to face her, “but the princess is farther out in the field. We need to regroup. The only thing keeping us from accomplishing that is capturing one of the enemy’s vital keeps.” The Sheikah’s eyes scanned the field, drawing the Hylian’s gaze as she pointed to closed doors on the other side of the field. “There! I don’t know what is in there, but start there and I will assist you once our men have control of the field. Understand, soldier?” 

The recruit gave a stiff nod and a salute. Impa returned the gesture. “May the goddesses smile on us all.” She turned on her heel back to aid one of their knights in the distance who was beginning to become overwhelmed with another wave of enemies. Link wished he could help there, but the entire weight of the battle weighed on his shoulders with this new task he was given. He swallowed thickly; capturing this keep could easily help them win or lose this war.

Link burst through the large doors of the abandoned fort, finding it seemingly empty. Impa said it was a vital stronghold for their assailants, but there was nothing to show for it; not even a blade of grass was out of place against the pavement. The Hylian’s senses told him to stay on high alert regardless as he inched across the stone path to the other pair of locked doors. His instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong. 

He didn’t make it too far — a sound whizzed through his ears and a heavy spear collided into the ground inches away from where he planned to take his next step. He stepped back reflexively when rocks splintered in every direction, and his sight went skyward to the source. A large shadow of a man stood on the top of the stone wall of the keep. He paced along the edge like a predator, staring down at the lone soldier below — at least, Link assumed he was staring. The glare of the sun shrouded him in darkness, making it difficult to discern certain features. 

The man lurched forward to meet the ground, and Link’s grip on the hilt of his sword tightened. He ignored how heavy it suddenly felt in his hands as he watched the taller man move with grace to pluck his weapon out from the cracked earth. Adrenaline flooded the Hylian’s veins now that he could fully see his enemy: his built physique, macabre armor, dragon-shaped helmet, deadly weapon in hand — everything was set to strike fear into anyone lesser. He steeled his resolve and kept his sword drawn.

The red-clad knight circled the trainee soldier like a lion. He made no movement to strike. It was intimidating how slowly he stalked around him, just waiting for an opportunity to make his move, and Link knew that he wasn’t fooling anyone with an act of bravery. The man tsk’d with an amused grin on his face, watching the blade in the boy’s hand beginning to shake. 

“They dare send only one lowly soldier to take my keep?” His low, mocking tone echoed off the walls, worming into the Hylian’s mind, taunting him. “I do not know whether to be flattered that they finally threw me a bone,” he suddenly frowned, coming to a stop in his pacing, “or insulted that they sent someone not worth my time.” 

In a fit of anger, Link blindly ran forward to strike the man down. Rage cried out of his lungs and filled the silence between them, but was replaced with a cry of pain as his side was struck with a hard kick. He crumpled to the ground and watched his only means of attack be swept out of his reach. An armored boot filled his view before it moved, finding a home placed firmly on top of his sternum. The man’s growling was the only thing Link could hear besides his own strained whimpers as he scrambled underneath his boot, his breath being crushed out of him.

“Pathetic,” the knight hissed, digging his pointed heel into the thick metal mail, trying to expose the fleshier bits of his prey’s chest. Some links of the chain gave out under the rough treatment. Pained cries fell on deaf ears. “You’re nothing but a boy playing a sad excuse for a soldier.” 

Link screwed his eyes shut, trying to collect himself with the combined force of the crushing weight on his chest and with hearing his enemy’s words. It struck a chord deep in him — he was praised highly among the rest of camp for his swordsmanship, but falling so quickly in battle drowned him in shame. It was pitiful that he wished for this stranger to kill him quickly to spare him the humiliation of returning to what would be left of the castle with his tail between his legs, not only failing his general, but all of Hyrule.

Suddenly the weight was lifted off his chest, and Link’s lungs burned with the rush of air. It was all the reprieve he was given when he was forcefully pulled up by the collar of his blue and white tunic, nearly nose-to-nose with the enemy. 

“You must be new to the ways of war,” the knight crooned. “Running headstrong into the fray without so much as a helmet.” He turned the soldier’s head from side to side with his other hand, looking him over with vague interest. “Pity, you are a pretty thing. Stupid, but pretty nonetheless.” 

Link couldn’t hear the words the man muttered under his breath. He was completely entranced with the way how the pointed tips of his eye markings moved over his cheeks with each carefully selected word. It drew his attention to eyes which he couldn’t see from a distance, but with him being so close, the Hylian could see underneath the pointed snout of the dragon-shaped helmet. If he couldn’t breathe before, he certainly wasn’t breathing now.

The man’s eyes were an even deeper black than the paint that shrouded his eyes, an expanse of a void that Link felt so lost in, but he was fixated on the way his eyes seemed to pierce through his very soul, irises swirling of emerald and gold, and even a ring of fiery red along the edges. It was unlike anything Link had ever seen before: so daunting, so primal, feral, instilling fear through his veins —

— but also leaving him awestruck in its own twisted sense of beauty.

A strangled gasp managed to worm its way out of the Hylian’s throat as he was pulled off the ground again by the neck, held an arm’s length away from the enemy. He kicked furiously at the air, the toes of his boots barely scraping against the pavement, being held higher and higher up into the air. The knight laughed cruelly at his struggle.

“I’ve wasted enough time with you, boy.” The air crackled with an energy unknown to Link. An aura of red magic covered the knight’s arm holding Link hostage, striking panic through Link as the temperature rose to a dangerous degree, the clawed gauntlet threatening to burn through his tunic and mail. Another swirl of magic caused his arm to distort into something akin to a dragon’s limb — or at least, that’s what Link could only imagine it being — and gripping the Hylian’s throat even tighter. “I’ve only come to fight worthy foes!”

If the dragon squeezed any further, it would surely kill him in an instant if he didn’t suffocate first. Adrenaline surged through him to fight for his life — have to run, get away, do something! — screaming at every one of his nerves to act. His arms slipped through the spaces between the dragon’s claws, hands desperate to scratch his way out of the other’s grip, red scales flaking off with each futile swipe. Link’s racing heart and panicked breathing filled his ears, falling deaf to the man’s threats. 

A searing pain struck across his left hand even through the leather of his glove. Link wasn’t sure if the light blinding him was a signal that he was knocking on death’s door, but whatever it was, it also blinded his assailant; its rays dared to rival those from the sun. The ground rushed to meet Link’s body as he felt himself drop to the ground again, no longer being held in a crushing choke hold or close to the heat of his enemy. Through his rattled mind and the ringing in his ears, sound slowly came back into his senses, filled only with curses and snarling from the disoriented knight on the other side of the keep.

Link sat up quickly while he had the chance and scanned the pavement for his weapon. If only he had his sword…

“You—” the man growled, rubbing any streaks of light that distorted his vision, “you can’t be!”

“Soldier!”

Quick footfalls approached the two of them, and soon enough, Impa stood between them, hand steadied on the hilt of her blade and shielding the Hylian from any more torture from the red-clad knight. Her eyes stared at their enemy with a piercing gaze, daring him to make another move. 

“Volga.”

‘Volga’ scoffed in response to being called by anything other than his full title. “I am not here to entertain you, Sheikah.” His eyes fell to the boy that lay behind her. “I may have… underestimated Hyrule’s forces. But I promise you this, I will not make the same mistake again.” With a roar and another swirl of magic, a pair of leathery wings stretched outright from Volga’s back. Impa’s stance grew tense as Volga pointed his spear at them — specifically toward Link’s direction. “You haven’t beaten me yet. Next time we meet, boy, I will cut through your shields and mount your head on a pike!”

With that decree and a beat of his large wings, Volga retreated into the sky. Embers filled the space where he had once stood, leaving Impa and Link in a keep that now belonged to Hyrule’s forces. This was the turning point of this battle, but it was far from over.

“The princess still awaits us to regroup. We haven’t won yet.” Impa turned to offer her hand, which her recruit gladly accepted. He couldn’t meet her gaze as he rushed over to where his knight’s sword had lay discarded a few feet away from them, holstering his blade back in its place, half-expecting an earful of reprimands —

Impa placed a hand on his shoulder, much to his surprise. Link tilted his head to look at her in question. The general’s hand pulled his left arm away from his side to reveal the source of the burning pain from earlier, the only thing that spared him from an premature death: the glowing mark of the Triforce on the back of his glove.

“But now that we have found you, perhaps we just might win.”

Link’s fate was now set in stone. There was only one thing that thrilled and terrified him both at the same time: coming face-to-face with Volga again.

[the-gedonelune-times]

Time Will Tell

This is one of those fics where I had an idea, sat down and just wrote out an entire fic. This one is about Lily and how her life in Gedonelune will be going for a little while. I really enjoyed writing this and hope you all enjoy it as well! 💙

After the previous events that took place in the Northern forest, Liz ended up encountering Lily again and this time, she was leading her back to the village. After talking it over with Willem, they had made arrangements for Lily to stay with him for a while for fear of her being noticed by the Ministry.

“Lily, this is Willem, you’ll be staying with him for a little while.”

“Hello, Willem, it’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” Lily smiled, giving a tiny bow before glancing at Liz. “May I ask why I’ll be staying here? The winged rabbit must be so lonely, I’m worried.”

“Well, there’s a lot we don’t know about you and we need to make sure the Ministry doesn’t find you. As for the Winged Rabbit, don’t worry, the Northern Forest is filled with them, I can assure you he won’t be lonely.”

Lily nodded happily. “That’s good to hear. I have one more question if that’s alright?”

“Of course.”

“What is the Ministry? What is it that they do?”

“To put it simply, the Ministry pretty much helps keep Gedonelune running in a sense. They deal with political matters and help try to keep the peace between the other kingdoms.”

“I see, then why do you wish not to let me be found?”

“Given some recent circumstances, I think it would be best for you to keep a low profile for a little bit.”

“In other words, your Ministry will think I am...suspicious?”

“Yes and unfortunately you’ve already been drawing a bit of attention, even if it wasn’t intentional.”

“I see..” Lily looked down apologetically. “My apologies for any issues I may have caused.”

“You have no reason to be apologizing, Lily. Things like this happen sometimes, this is one of those times nor was it your doing.”

“Ah, alright!” Lily beamed. “Oh, Liz, will you not be staying with us?”

“I’m afraid not. I still have my duties as prefect, so I won’t be around for most of the day, but I’ll try to be back to check up on you. I hope the two of you can get along with each other.”

Lily flashed a happy smile at Willem. “Yes, me too! He hasn’t said a word this whole time, but I can tell he has a very kind heart; warm like the sun.”

“I’m flattered by such kind words.” Willem responded warmly.

“I’ll leave you two to it then. Take care!” 

Lily and Willem both waved Liz off as she took her leave before they headed inside of Willem’s home. Almost immediately, Lily’s wings began flapping, allowing her to float around and take a good look at the home. Every little thing amazed her and she couldn’t stop pointing and smiling at every little object. Her favorite being a music box that she found on the mantle of the fireplace. Willem explained to her that it was a gift from the humans, many centuries ago, he said it belonged to a good friend of his.

“So, this person named Felix carried it with him all the time?”

“Yes, sometimes when he felt restless, he would play this music box and fall asleep.”

“That’s so cute.” Lily squeaked as she held the small box in her hands. “May I?”

“By all means, go right ahead. It’s been so long since I’ve heard the box play.”

“Does it not work right?”

“No, nothing like that. I just haven’t been able to bring myself to open the box.”

Lily’s fingers gently brushed on the top of the box before undoing the magnetic lock on the front, revealing a beautiful flower made out of crystal. There was a silver wind-up key on the back of the box which she was instructed twist. 

It was slow, but a beautiful sound began to play as the box whirred to life; the crystal flower slowly spinning with the music. Completely mesmerized by the sight of it, her eyes never left the flower’s movements, and ever so softly, she began to hum along with the tune, as if she had heard the song a hundred times.

Willem watched Lily with interest and slight sadness. The look in her eyes reminded him of the same soft look that Felix had all those years ago when he too, would listen to that music box. He dared not say anything and instead, he quietly left the living room and went to the kitchen, allowing Lily some time to herself. 

It didn’t last long though, a couple of minutes later while he was preparing food to take over to Hugo, he heard his name being called. Sitting on the sofa was Lily, who was now teary-eyed as she held the music box in her hands.

“I-I didn’t mean to…” Lily sniffled as her hands began to shake

“Lily, what happened?”

“I don’t know, the music slowed down and...and the pretty flower stopped moving, did I break it? I-I didn’t mean hic to.”

“Dry your tears, you didn’t break it.” Willem gave a warm smile as he walked over to her, kneeling down and taking the box from her shaky hands. “You have to continue winding up the box if you want to hear the music.” Willem explained while he began to twist the wind-up key; the box whirring to life as it began to play the music again.

“S-so I didn’t break it?” Lily asked while wiping her eyes, trying to dry up what remaining tears stained her face.

“No, see, it’s perfectly fine now.”

Lily looked down at the music box and smiled happily as she sniffled a few final times. This time, when the music ended, Lily gently closed the box and placed it right where she had originally found it. She soon became more intrigued with the sounds going on in the kitchen where Willem had went back to, finishing up his cooking, glancing over at Lily who looked at everything with interest. The oven was especially interesting to her when she found a switch, which she found out lit the inside up, after clicking it.

“Incredible!” Lily exclaimed happily as she flipped the light switch on and then off a couple of more times, drawing a chuckle from Willem.

“You’ve never seen anything like this before, have you?”

“Nope. What’s it for?”

“It’s used to cook food.” Willem explained.

“Cook food? Oh! You mean the stuff humans have to eat, right?”

“That is correct” Willem smiled.

“Wait, why are you making human food?”

“I make it for the other humans who come visit and reside here. It’s also a nice treat for when I want to indulge a little bit.”

“There are other humans in this village other than Liz?”

“Yes, there’s actually one living right next door to me who you’ll be able to meet very shortly. They should be here soon for dinner.”

Lily’s wings began to flap excitedly. “Oh! I can’t wait to meet another human!”

“You really like humans, don’t you Lily?”

“Yes, I think…” Lily hummed. “I think I had human friends once. They taught me how to dance and sing songs they knew. Humans are fragile, they get hurt easily but they live life despite so many struggled. I admire and love them for being so strong.” Lilly smiled. “I want to show all humans the same love they gave to me once.”

“I think that’s a wonderful thing.”

“Willem, you’re cooking for humans and living among them, does that mean you love humans as well?”

“Yes, though it took a while for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m afraid that story will have to wait another day. Would you mind helping me set the table?”

“I would love too.” 

Lily listened intently as Willem explained where everything was and where they had to go. Within mere minutes, the table was set and ready for serving dinner, which Willem had just now taken out of the oven. Around that time, there was a rasp on the door.

“Come in!” Willem called out as the door began to quietly open, revealing a small white cat and a man with silver hair clad in a somewhat casual style outfit. The two of them got a few steps into the house when they suddenly froze, both of them directing their attention to Lily who wore a big smile on her face as she looked them both up and down.

“Willem, you didn’t tell us you already had company.” Mischa purred before nimbly hopping on top of the table.

“If we’re interrupting something, we can go.” Hugo muttered.

“No, both of you must be hungry, so please, sit down and I’ll explain what’s going on.”

Hugo and Mischa exchanged looks and Hugo sighed, giving up as he slid a chair out, taking a seat. Willem began serving them both plates and even got a small helping of the food on a plate for himself and took a seat.

“I believe I owe you both an explanation.”

“Yes, it would be nice.” 

“This is Lily and she’s going to be staying with me for a little while.” Willem explained.

“Is she…” Hugo looked at her and then at Willem.

“Yes, she’s not human. She’s a species of dragon that has long been extinct.”

“I see. Is she trying to...you know?”

“No.” Willem answered firmly. 

“Well, at the very least, that offers some relief.”

“So, Lily, what brings you to Gedonelune?” Mischa asked curiously.

“I’m not sure. I kind of woke up here one day.”

“Woke up?”

Lily nodded. “Yes, I don’t remember much of anything either.”

“How odd. Willem?” Mischa directed her attention to the one beside her. “Do you mind if we have a little chat?”

“I suppose we can, Lily, do you mind waiting for us in the living room?”

“Of course!” Lily’s tail happily swished behind her as she left the table, leaving the other three to talk among themselves.

“Willem, are you sure she’s not-”

“I’m positive. She’s shown no signs of hostility, she can’t even remember the war.”

“War? So she was alive back then?”

“Yes but…”

“But?” Hugo spoke up.

“Well, Liz and I came to the conclusion that Lily actually died during the war. There have been no records of any Zirnitra being alive. As far as records go, the last of their kind died out around the time the war ended.”

“But that leaves the question of how she’s alive and here in Gedonelune.”

“Well, I was thinking about that as well.”

“And?”

“A flower represents death for my kind and other dragon species. When we die, we turn to flowers, but maybe it’s possible that the opposite can happen.”

“Which means that Lily was reborn from a flower?”

“Quite possibly. Although, I don’t have enough evidence to be sure of it. What I am sure of, however, is that Lily poses no threat or harm to anyone. She’s just lost and wants nothing bad to happen to the human race.”

“Yes, well, wasn’t that brought up once about another certain Dragonkin?”

“Yes...but his hatred was caused because he knew what the humans had done.”

“Do you think the same could happen to Lily if she fully regains her memory one day?” Mischa asked.

“I don’t know, Mischa. I sincerely don’t know. I would like to hope that those memories would not change her pure heart.”

“But you never know.” 

“Yes, that is..correct. Which is why I’m taking full responsibility for whatever may happen.”

“Willem?”

“Sorry. I know this a lot to ask, but I have a favor.”

“Oh?”

“I know it shouldn’t happen, but I need to make sure the Ministry doesn’t find out about her.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Hugo and I don’t talk to any Ministry member. Well, except for when that Klaus fellow is ever in town. Our lips will be sealed, Willem, you have our word.”

“Thank you.”

Dinner went on smoothly and finished with Willem making a plate for Hugo to take home for later. After waving them off and cleaning everything up, he went to go check up on Lily, who had fallen asleep on the sofa, Her wings wrapped around her like a blanket and in her hands, clutched to her heart was the music box. Willem smiled as he grabbed a nearby plush throw blanket, which he used to cover her up.

“Sweet dreams, Lily.” 

Lily, though not awake, stirred softly and smiled as she nestled deeper into the blanket. With that, Willem left to his own room, calling it a night as he shut off the lights, except for a dim-lit floor lamp in the corner of the room. 

Though they didn’t know it, things were going to get quite crazy in Gedonelune, and Lily was soon going to find herself right smack in the midst of it all. What sort of crazy adventures will she find herself in? Only time will tell.

[galfridus1]

Geldris Week Day 3: Broken Seals

I’m excited to publish this piece I wrote for @nntzine which fits today’s prompt. I hope you enjoy it.

The room was quiet, silver light and dark shadow flitting across the polished stone walls. A soft breeze wafted through the window, filling the space with the pensive still of night. There was no sound to be heard save for the gentle wash of the lake as it lapped at the shore, the familiar splash of waves against rock. The soft air, perfumed with the scent of seaweed and brine, mixed with the hot oil of the lanterns as it gently ghosted over her skin. It was as if the earth was holding its breath, as if it too wished the night would never come to an end.

Gelda’s eyes fell on the demon lying beside her and her heart was instantly filled with tenderness and longing. It was rare that they were able to spend time together in this abandoned castle on the very edge of northern Britannia. The humans who had constructed the simple stone edifice, on a island in the middle of a salt-water lake, had long since retreated, fleeing the dragons which sometimes stalked the area. Zeldris had found it and painstakingly restored a few rooms, creating a sanctuary where they could hide from the war, where they forget their responsibilities and prejudice of their clans.

Yet, much as she did not wish it, the night was drawing to its close. The sharp calls of guillemots and the noise of cormorants as they made their almost comical grunts heralded the imminent coming of dawn. Even as she watched, the sky grew lighter, streaks of pinks and golds lighting the now-visible cloud. She sighed, forcing the air from her lungs in a failed attempt to control her emotions. It would soon be time for them to leave one another’s arms, and who knew when they would see each other again.

As if sensing her perturbation, Zeldris stirred, his eyes flashing dark as they gazed into her own. The mark on his forehead swirled with his power and she had to stop herself reaching out to trace over the patten. He too glanced out of the window, then made as if to go, before evidently thinking better of it and relaxing back into the pillows. Gelda fell into his comforting embrace, relishing the feel of his skin under her palms and the way his hair brushed against her cheek. It was almost without thinking that their lips brushed together, their kiss slow and chaste; she struggled to breathe, the ache of longing and loss threatening to overwhelm her.

[[MORE]]

“We have to go,” Gelda murmured reluctantly as she pulled away, shivering slightly as she left the warmth of his arms. “My clan’s hunting party will return soon.”

Zeldris wrinkled his nose, before checking himself and smoothing his countenance into an expressionless mask. She laughed at this, the sound swallowed by the soft drapes and comfortable furniture, so different to the echos one would make in the great halls of Edinburgh.

“I know what you’re thinking and it’s alright,” she reassured, forcing herself to push her sadness aside. She had to make it so they enjoyed these last moments together. “I can’t see myself eating dragon any more than you could drink human blood.”

“I did try if you recall,” he replied, an edge of complaint to his tone. “It was… an experience.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” she asked innocently. “It looked more like a diplomatic disaster to me.”

“I was not prepared for the taste,” he grumbled as Gelda broke into fits of giggles. “How was I know it tastes like liquid iron? I have no concept of how you vampires can possibly enjoy it.”

Gelda smoothed back the dark hair from his forehead, running her fingers lightly over his scalp, and she felt him grow still under her touch. “Anyway, no harm done,” he continued, swallowing slightly as she scraped her nails lightly along his skin. “It passed off without incident.”

“Only because I covered for you!” She pushed herself up on her elbows, pleased to see him looking sheepishly up at her, before his brows drew together in apparent confusion.

“I have wanted to ask you for some time why you did that.” He sat up in bed, head cocked slightly to one side. “We had not set eyes on each other before that day, and had barely spoken two words together. You had no reason to come to my aid.”

Gelda felt a blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks, her gaze sliding sideways to the woven coverlet. She bit her lip, wondering just how she was supposed to answer that question, whether she could bear to reveal the truth. She jumped slightly as Zeldris cupped her face, forcing her eyes to look into his own.

“What is it?” he demanded more forcefully as she remained silent. “Will you not tell me?”

Several more seconds passed, his gaze never wavering until the pressure to talk became overwhelming. “Alright. If you must know. But it’s really embarrassing,” Gelda felt her blush deepen, heat pooling in her face, and she could feel the cool air moving over her glowing cheeks.

“I… I had seen you before,” Gelda admitted, and Zeldris looked at her with keen interest. “It was in the demon realm. My father dragged me and Ren along to the negotiations as token females. The alliance with the demons meant a lot to him and he didn’t want to leave anything to chance. My cousin and I were supposed to, you know...” She could not continue past the lump in her throat. The memory of her mission, as explained to her in no uncertain terms by the vampire king, caused her revulsion even now the ordeal was over.

“I’ll kill him,” Zeldris muttered as he pulled her into his arms. “Or hurt him at least,” he seethed as Gelda opened her mouth to protest. “I hate the way he uses you.”

“I was lucky. Nothing happened,” Gelda said quietly as she pulled back a little, noting the look of black fury on her lover’s face. “Your clan were surprisingly respectful. Ren and I were shown around by one of your colleagues, Melascula was her name if I remember rightly. We went to the library, the research stations and then the training grounds.” Zeldris froze as she added, “We watched you and Meliodas sparring.”

“Well, I bet that was a humiliating sight.” Gelda could see Zeldris’s jaw working as he forced the bitterness out of his tone. “I still do not understand…”

“You almost beat him,” Gelda said softly as she took his hands in hers. “I’ve never seen anyone move so fast. Then after that you took on this tall brute in spiked armour, and he was clearly out of his depth.”

Zeldris chuckled as his fingers slowly interlaced with hers. “Galand is a hot head, but he is useful enough.”

“You let him land several blows.” Their eyes met as Gelda continued, “You didn’t have to do that. It puzzled me, then I worked out why. You wanted the fight to be fair.”

“He gets very despondent sometimes,” Zeldris explained.

Gelda’s heart thrummed in her chest as a little warmth coloured his cheeks. “I thought it was kind,” she murmured over his hesitation, “and I haven’t seen anything since to contradict that impression. I wanted to get to know you more. And besides,” Gelda added, a smile curving her lips, “you looked so… you know...”

“What?” Zeldris asked as she trailed off and he looked at her closely and she struggled not to laugh out loud. “Are you saying you were influenced by my physical appearance?” He stared at her, incredulous. “Gelda! I would never have imagined you could be so brazen!”

They fell back to the bed, laughing as their arms wound around one another. Her heart ached as she watched his dark eyes lightening, emerald shining in the early morning light as the mark on his forehead faded to skin. “I love you,” he murmured, and she reached for him, only to find her fingers brushed over air. Alarmed, she pulled back, fear gripping her insides as wind rushed painfully in her ears. Her insides jolted sickeningly, and she felt a splash of bile hit the back of her throat as the world around them spun sharply, the room swirling like a vortex before it faded to black...

In my deep sleep here in the seal, Zeldris… I’ve been dreaming about my days with you.

Waking was like returning to the surface from the depths of the sea. Her lungs screamed in protest as she struggled to breathe, her limbs shivering, weakened from millennia of lying in a space on the edge of sleeping and waking. She felt sick, dizzy, disorientated, a metallic taste permeating her mouth. But as she looked around at the rolling hills of Edinburgh, darkened by the deep velvet of night, memories returned to her in a flood of hope. She had been sealed and released, imprisoned then freed. After all these centuries, Zeldris must have finally come for her.

Gelda fanned out her powers, scouring the area, searching for even a trace of the energy she loved, but her efforts became increasingly desperate. Something was wrong. There was no one, nothing of significance to be felt for miles and miles, and certainty no sign of demon magic. Human settlements were all she could find, with a party of that race fast converging upon them. Evidently the humans had felt the crack of the seal and come to investigate, a fact not lost on the remains of her family.

“Spread out!” the vampire king yelled. “Don’t let any of them get away.” She heard the rush of wind in her ears as her brethren flocked to obey his command, followed seconds later by the screams and shrieks of despair from their prey. The vampires had returned to Britannia, bringing with them destruction and death.

And she knew as she smelled the rich aroma of blood, gaging in revulsion as she tasted the tang of iron on the air, that she could never be the same again. She wanted nothing, none of this morbid reality, only the dreams she had been forced to leave behind.

As her clan continued their macabre feast, Gelda stood still, detached from the world, remembering the feel of comforting arms, the soft timbre of of Zeldris’s voice as he whispered in her ear, knowing with certainty that she would never see him again. Blinking back tears, the princess gazed up at the sky, love and loss gnawing painfully at her insides.

“Please kill me,” Gelda murmured to herself as she closed her eyes and prayed for death.

[ccaleb-widogast]

Please expound on the “one sided disasters” (other than the obvious Beau for Yasha) because that sounds juicy

(Anon is referring to me mentioning that the only ships I see happening in the Mighty Nein at the moment are some one-sided disasters and I am here to explain what that means to me.)

OKAY this is absolutely just a theory so far and I have to start with a brief analysis on how I see Jester where the series is right now.

Jester is probably on her way to getting over Fjord. And I don’t think Fjord is into Jester, and I haven’t thought that for a while. Not since the Mighty Nein left the Empire, actually. Fjord had done a great job showing that he has a lot of flaws to his character during his arc, and that is completely natural. But Jester has been fantasizing about him as this perfect being that she fancies herself in love with and wants a perfect happy ending with. She even talked about it with Caleb to an extent as she started realizing that Fjord isn’t perfect.

Jester is going through some really important character development, and I’m not forgetting that, but she’s still a fairly naive woman who was very sheltered before she left Nicodranas to travel into the Empire with Fjord and join the Mighty Nein. Essentially, the Mighty Nein are the extent of her life experience outside of The Lavish Chateau. What we have seen of her is that she is a romantic at heart and a woman that wants a storybook romance, or is at least attracted to the idea of one. Except, she doesn’t have very much real life experience with initiating or maintaining that kind of relationship. 

Jester is definitely not a manic pixie dream girl, which apparently some people have tossed the accusation of around. She’s definitely not aiming to be the light and life of anyone specifically, especially one of the men in the group, even if she was specifically pursuing Fjord as a romantic interest. What Jester is, is a cleric of a chaotic trickster deity who has specifically manipulated her into believing that she must continue to act cheerful, unpredictable, and chaotic, or else she will lose his favor. With that attitude, she will always be happy bubbly Jester. 

All the same, she’s struggling with what they’ve just gone through (the entire pirate situation, especially the fight with the dragon). She feels like Fjord is being selfish and everyone else is kind of banding together in solidarity behind that.

So moving on to my theory. I will briefly reiterate that Jester is still a romantic, but she’s feeling a little down and feels that maybe the books she’s read don’t all have it right. But she’ll just keep to her friends and they’ll stick to the roads and get back to the Empire and see what’s happened while they were away.

But Jester is a romantic and it’s hard not to love a little too much when you have a heart as big as hers. 

Anyway you’ve seen this ship gaining a lot of ground in the fandom lately as a full ship. My theory is that Jester is absolutely going to go from crushing on Fjord to crushing on Caleb. 

They already have a very sweet dynamic going on with their friendship. I don’t think it’s going to be ruined or anything! Laura and Liam are very good actors and they would resolve whatever tension developed out of this after some wonderful drama. But I think Jester might go a little too far in interpreting some of Caleb’s nice gestures, especially because he can be so awkward with his acts of kindness. It’s easy for them to be accidentally taken in a different context, and he’s not very good at explaining himself.

Additionally, Jester does like her tropes and romances, and she might fancy herself a girl that can help “fix Caleb’s heart” if she draws the wrong conclusion as to why he’s so sad when all that she knows about his past is that he had a lover named Astrid and that he is obviously no longer with her. This would, of course, cause some really awkward situations that might also prompt Caleb to dump his full backstory on Jester to explain why her plans would never succeed to begin with.

And on Caleb’s side! He’s older than her by a decent shot, but not too old, I know. It’s totally possible that in the long run, they could become a thing, and I’ve considered them here and there before. With some more recovery and growing, I think they could make a very good and stable couple. But it would be miles down the road and after a lot of development for them both. Right now? Within the next few weeks in-game and the next couple of episodes? It would be a disaster. 

Caleb is in no place for a relationship with anyone right now. He’s too determined in his current quest to turn back the clock. Right now he’s as shady as Fjord is acting and even more subtle and manipulative about it to boot. He does love the Mighty Nein, and he especially loves Nott, but he would still prioritize his through action above them in a heartbeat. This spells disaster for any kind of healthy relationship. And Caleb doesn’t strike me as someone who would be actively or passively interested or searching for a romantic partner regardless, so an accidental “oh shit I’ve caught the feels” is unlikely, beyond how he already feels for Jester. 

At least, until she develops a little bit more. She has some really good growing to do, and I think that later on she could actually have some really great potential with Caleb. But in the near future, I have a sense that it’s just going to be a messy (attempted) romantic disaster with the two of them that could end up hilarious for the audience and also make us cry a little.

Mostly because Liam and Laura are good at doing that to us.

[neuxue]

Before you get to the arc payoffs, I think it would be cool if you could illustrate your thoughts on the journeys the main characters have gone on to get to this point. Like, your thoughts on their consistency and what you think worked and didn't work, aside from Perrin's plotline temporarily dying and Mat disappearing for a book.

This is an excellent question and I could probably take several weeks to compile an answer but I’m going to answer it now because I am an adult who is entirely in control of her life and her choices especially regarding fiction, fictional characters, and the discussion thereof.

‘Main characters’ is a rather flexible definition in WoT so I’ll start with the original set from EotW and go from there, and we’ll see how far I get.

(Okay it turns out I only got through the Emond’s Field group, becasue I’m me and I can’t just write a sentence or two for each one, but I might try later to do the same for some other characters)

Rand al’Thor: Rand’s character arc, and the way it’s executed, is fantastic. He definitely benefits from the sheer length of the series (well, his arc does; he just suffers), because it allows for a nuanced, complex, thorough character journey from farmboy to broken hero, from human viewpoint protagonist to distant focal point around which everything spirals, from determined trusting optimist to desperate half-mad fatalist. Any of those transitions can be and have been done in shorter wordcounts, but the length of the series, and the way everything about what Rand does and goes through escalates a little (or sometimes a lot) with each book, gives his arc this feeling of an inexorable pull, of compounding pain, of just a series of small steps, each only a little further than the next. 

When you have 12 books (so far) to do that with, you can end up a huge distance away from where you started, without it ever feeling like too great a jump. Each ‘level’ (either of what he has to endure or what he himself does and becomes) is gradually normalised over time; he and the reader acclimate, so then it’s time to step up to the next. Put The Last That Could Be Done after, say, Falme, and it would still hurt but it would feel almost like too much (and also not enough, because it would lack the weight and momentum of everything that came before). Instead, you get to watch the slow unravelling of a character even as his power grows, tension building, until (like his ancestors the Aiel) he becomes all but unrecognisable as who he was at the start, but every step along the way feels like just another step, until a single step is all it takes to push him off the cliff his narrative has spent the better part of twelve books building for him.

I also love the way Jordan has played with POV in this particular arc, with Rand going from the main viewpoint character to barely having a POV. It suits the way he goes from being a protagonist beginning his journey to becoming the centre of a whirlpool that expands to encompass the entire world, as well as how he goes from being very young and human and real to… “I don’t know how human the Dragon Reborn can afford to be,“ to just dragging himself and the world to the Last Battle. He loses POV chapters because he no longer sees himself as a person with agency or even the right to his own mind – which, too, is invaded and eroded as time goes on, again fitting well with the decrease in POV chapters: his mind is literally no longer his own, nor – he believes – is his life.

I expect his to be one of the arcs with the greatest catharsis in its payoff, just because there’s so much that’s built up over time; the potential energy, if you will, is huge, and at some point it has to be released, and while building it took 12 books and counting, there’s…not all that much time left, so it’s going to be released in a far shorter time than it was built, and if anyone remembers anything from physics class, that means it’s going to hit with a hell of a lot of force.

Also okay in my head this was going to be maybe a paragraph or two per character so uh….

Egwene al’Vere: Another character arc I absolutely love, because she grows so much. She goes from strong-willed village girl seeking adventure and trying adulthood on for size to young woman finding her place in the world to true Amyrlin in strength and understanding and maturity. She’s allowed to make mistakes; and throw herself wholeheartedly into things the way so many of us do when we’re still figuring out who we are; and then smooth all of those pieces together into somoene who is still herself; but a more experienced, older, wiser, stronger version of herself. She grows up, in a very real sense, and we get to watch that play out in a way that isn’t always smooth and isn’t always perfect, but feels very real.

I’ve also talked a few times about how the main difference between her and Rand, beneath all the parallels drawn between them, is that in terms of their heroic arcs, she chooses while he is chosen. It’s something I love about Egwene’s arc and her character overall – she’s allowed to be ambitious and to want things and strive for things, and is rewarded for it rather than shut down.

She asks the world for a chance to be more, and it demands a great deal from her in return, but she rises to the challenge at each step, and then takes the next one, and then the next – like Rand, a gradual change that seems small at any given point but is huge overall – but for all that she leaves her home behind, she never loses who she is. And some of that means she keeps some of her flaws, and makes some mistakes along the way because of those flaws, and that’s…permitted, and taken into her overall arc.

And the way her arc is drawn parallel to Rand’s, in a way that draws similarities and yet simultaneously highlights the differences in how they approach these similar things, is excellent and, I think, enhances both of them as a result.

Mat Cauthon: Here’s an arc that I feel is a bit uneven or inconsistent. Some of that fits who he is – the rogue, the trickster, the one who is by his very nature inconsistent except for the aspects of him that are absolutely constant (his commitment to keeping his promises, for instance). So to some extent you don’t expect his arc to follow the same pattern as a more ‘standard’ heroic archetype. This archetype demands a bit of freedom and flexibility to play around with and sometimes flip on its head.

And I think that works well for him from TDR through TFoH. There, we watch the push-pull of denying his fate yet remaining loyal to promises and friends, telling himself he wants no responsibility and is no bloody hero and yet very much acting the part and gathering an army who follow him because they respect and believe in and trust him. We see him learn to use his luck, see him visit the Aelfinn and Eelfinn and manage to come out just a little bit ahead despite always feeling a few steps behind (and also almost dying, can’t forget that). And by the end of TFoH, he has grown, even if he doesn’t want to admit it to himself.

And then…he stagnates (’the right hand falters’), for approximately five goddamn books. He gets bogged down in a storyline that at times seems to exist purely to be a ‘battle of the sexes’ sandbox, serves as a narrative tool for belittling or putting down other characters when it’s not belittling or diminishing him, and vanishes for a book for no particular narrative reason beyond not having much to do. And then he wanders with the circus for a while before finally taking some bloody initiative and marrying his enemy’s empress. By accident, but still, it’s progress.

The thing is, if he had gone straight from the end of TFoH, with a newly acquired army and responsibility that he claims to want nothing to do with, to freeing the Windfinder(s) in Ebou Dar and then staring out at the devastation that escape caused, to giving Tuon a cluster of silk rosebuds while planning the use of gunpowder in war, to the events of As If The World Were Fog and Prince of the Ravens, I think I’d still enjoy reading about him. The pieces of a great arc are there, but the pacing is off, and there’s too much in the middle that seems to serve no real purpose (except to irritate and be irritated by other characters, which doesn’t make anyone look good).

I also think one of the issues with Mat’s arc is that more than others, he is put in positions where his gain is another central character’s loss (see for example the latter half of Swovan Night and Small Sacrifices) for…seemingly no reason. I much prefer the moments where he gains by his own merit (see This Place, This Day and The Lesser Sadness, where he acquires the Band and helps win the battle of Cairhien by being awesome), or, if it’s to be at the expense of other characters, in a way that doesn’t end up making other protagonists just look…less.

For the record, I also disliked when Egwene spent a few chapters making a fool of Nynaeve as part of flipping the leadership/power dynamic between them. I have no problem with conflict between characters (Egwene and Nynaeve bickering all the way to Tear felt real, and suited their development) or with power struggles, but I think it’s important to make sure it’s…fair, I suppose, if you’re using protagonists on both sides. A character can be narratively served by losing a conflict, so long as they’re treated as an actual agent in it, rather being temporarily demoted to narrative device, existing just to make another character look good at their expense. And the resulting ‘benefit’ to the other character feels sour as a result. (An example of this being done better is Mat fighting Gawyn and Galad; the stakes are relatively low, it’s done in a lighthearted way, and while Galad and Gawyn lose, they don’t really lose face).

I also feel like there’s so much more that could be done with the memories Mat acquires - they certainly contribute to his arc and to the positions he ends up in, and recently there was the issue with him realising that the Eelfinn might have some sort of link to him, but we never go very far into the…psychological impact, I suppose. I mean, he remembers dying. Multiple times. And even the memories that don’t involve death often involve battle. So he’s got sort-of-but-no-longer-really secondhand literal war flashbacks coming out his ears, he has howmany fragments of identity floating around in his head and seeming a part of him and yet also not? That’s fascinating, give me more. It just seems like such a cool thing to play with, and instead more often than not it’s a plot device.

Nynaeve al’Meara: Ah, Nynaeve. Another arc I love. I’ve actually written about hers already (albeit a three years and several books ago) but I’ll go into some of it briefly here as well. Where we see Egwene grow up, Nynaeve begins the book as an adult, if still on the younger side, but established in her position and her identity, even if she has to fight for it at times because of her youth and particular personality quirks. And then she has all of that taken from her, and is thrown into a world where she no longer knows who she is or should be, where none of that authority or experience she possessed means anything. It’s such an interesting way to start a character’s arc, and it plays out beautifully as Nynaeve tries to find her footing again and stumbles so many times along the way but, like Egwene, in a way that feels very real. 

Through it all she holds to certain core aspects of herself even as others are recognised as mutable, and thus learns who she is and grows into not a different person entirely, but someone more herself. Not self-aware, precisely, but…in control. She breaks her block by finally surrendering, by letting go of the walls she built around herself and her own power out of fear and insecurity, and in doing so accepts what lies beneath them. And as a result, she now controls that vast power within her, rather than having only an occasional grasp of it through anger. That’s something of a metaphor for her entire arc, really: she faces herself as much as she faces any external enemy, pushing past those walls and insecurities and fears, through that uncertainty of where she fits in a world so much vaster than the one she came of age in, and thus gains control of her abilities and strengths and self, and can use that to work toward what she has always held as most important: protecting and helping and defending and healing those she loves.

Perrin Aybara: I love his arc from the beginning through to the end of TSR. The Two Rivers arc? Absolutely gorgeous. But, like Mat, I think his arc falters a little (or, if we’re continuing with the prophecy, strays) in part, perhaps, because he almost completes some of it too early. I do like that it’s not treated as perfectly linear – that just because he’s learned leadership and come to more or less accept it in his home village doesn’t mean he’ll be 100% great at it and fully on board from here on out – but I also think the way we revisit some of those problems could be done better. 

I also just hate the Malden arc in general, because once again it makes Perrin look good (sort of) by putting Faile in the role of damsel-in-distress (not in mindset but absolutely in contrived situation) and forcibly holding her there until Perrin can finish his arc. Which detracts from the payoff of the arc itself, for me.

I’d rather have seen that done differently – there are other ways Perrin could have struggled with truly accepting leadership, and also come to throw away the axe – and perhaps slightly earlier, which would allow Perrin to make the decision regarding the wolf dream a little earlier as well, because I don’t see how he’s supposed to convincingly learn it well enough to do anything with it between now and the ending. And if he doesn’t have time to do that, why was it brought up?

All of that said, I do think his arc itself is a really interesting and sometimes understated but often beautiful one. The axe/hammer conflict that winds its way  through so much of his arc across ten books is not always subtle but it’s present like a drumbeat, a constant that illustrates the heart of the conflict at the core of who he is and who he wants to be and who he needs to be. It also ties so well into the overall salvation/destruction theme and duality. It’s an interesting way to handle a character of the general archetype Perrin represents, and I think that aspect of his arc is done very, very well. He’s not always my type of character, and there are some inconsistencies in his arc and places where the way aspects of it are accomplished that irritate me, but the overall shape of it is lovely.

[recentanimenews]

Bookshelf Briefs 8/14/19

Anonymous Noise, Vol. 15 | By Ryoko Fukuyama | Viz Media – Nino has been struggling for so long against herself, or at the very least against Miou, that it’s worth seeing how she fares against actual professional singer at a concert. We find out here when one of the other bands covers an In No Hurry song and asks Nino to join in—which shows off how far she has to go, but also gives her a bit more drive. Meanwhile rain threatens to dwindle their audience, but also inspires them to bring out an older song—one associated with the band’s first vocalist. It helps tie into the theme of moving on and growing that is in this book. Which is good, as the romance is fairly static, though Kurose looks to be stumbling towards a revelation, at least. Still quite good. – Sean Gaffney

High School Prodigies Have It Easy Even in Another World!, Vol. 4 | By Riku Misora and Kotaro Yamada | Yen Press – This volume is at its best when the prodigies are not having it quite as easy as they’d like. The local Duke is furious at what they’re trying to achieve, and launches a fearsome weapon that the heroes to eventually stop, but it manages to cause major damage to the city and causes some deaths as well. Thankfully, the Duke is killed off. Yup, totally dead, despite not finding a body. There’s no way he can come back from that. The service is also less in this volume, though it’s still present, especially in the extra chapter which is basically “why am I surrounded by girls with bigger tits than me?” Next volume promises a love triangle. This is OK, but I think I’d like the LN more. – Sean Gaffney

Killing Me!, Vol. 1 | By Akiyama | Yen Press – There were two volumes of yuri released last month, and one was fascinating enough for me to devote a full review to it. This is the other one, which is far less fascinating, though if you like yuri tsunderes it might be for you. A vampire hunter and vampire are both in high school, and the hunter keeps trying—and failing—to kill the vampire, partly as the vampire does things like attempting to seduce her, etc. and partly as she’s clearly in love but unaware of it. What happens is a series of somewhat tedious scenes that show off this love. There’s also age difference at play here, given the vampire tropes present. Not sure if there’s a second volume of this, but I was going to pass anyway. – Sean Gaffney

My Sweet Girl, Vol. 5 | By Rumi Ichinohe | Kodansha Comics (digital only) – I’ve been waiting for My Sweet Girl to do something that might distinguish it from the pack. It’s been pleasant and cute, but through volume four, it was sticking to the standard shoujo plot lines. I mean, really, the introduction of Kiyodo, the similarly frail classmate whom Koeda befriended in junior high, is just another example of the childhood friend romantic rival trope. But Kiyodo is an interesting tsundere, and I really appreciated seeing Koeda through his eyes, especially his appreciation of how much she’s changed. I hope we’re not supposed to take him seriously as a threat to Masamune-kun, though. Finally kind of good! – Michelle Smith

One-Punch Man, Vol. 17 | By ONE and Yusuke Murata | VIZ Media – Man, it seems like it’s been forever since we’ve seen Saitama show up to a scene and destroy a monster in a single punch, so his arrival at the battle between Genos, two elderly martial arts practitioners, and a nigh indestructable giant centipede—including an epic, eight-page spread for his punch—was immensely gratifying. I’ll just pretend the gag about King pooping his pants didn’t happen. Unfortunately, the arc about the Monster Association is still ongoing, with no end in sight. Hero-hunter Garo I can at least sympathize with a little bit, and now he’s in league with the monsters, so perhaps he’ll make them more interesting by association. This is still a fun title, despite my gripes. – Michelle Smith

Oresama Teacher, Vol. 26 | By Izumi Tsubaki | Viz Media – Arguably kidnapping Mafuyu and locking her in a mansion was not the best move plot-wise, as it takes us away from the school and devotes too much attention to Miyabi’s sister Toko and our villain of the arc, Mr. Maki. Toko fares better here than she has before, but is no Miyabi, and Maki’s tragic backstory does not really tear at the heartstrings like it should. Fortunately, there is always Mafuyu being an absolutely dense pile of girl, and we get that in spades. Every time I found myself laughing hard it was due to Mafuyu reaching new depths of stupidity that I didn’t think were possible—”You’re telling me to make more friends” had me in hysterics. This needs to end soon, but I still love it. – Sean Gaffney

Precarious Woman Executive Miss Black General, Vol. 4 | By jin | Seven Seas – The author almost apologizes for this volume having a plot that runs all the way through it, as it turns out that the heroes organization has been compromised, and after Secretary, of all people, is kidnapped, it’s up to Braveman and Black General to team up and head into the base. This is not to say there’s not a lot of the silly humor that’s the reason to read this—the antagonist realizing how the General had snuck into the hero training course earlier is a great series of “oh crap” images, and while Black General’s solution ended up humiliating her, it also included a very satisfying kick to the groin which was desperately needed. Still more fun than you’d expect. – Sean Gaffney

Requiem of the Rose King, Vol. 10 | By Aya Kanno | Viz Media – So I put off reviewing this for a long time, and while it’s difficult to do a content warning in a brief, here is one: there’s a non-consensual sex scene in this, and while it’s handled in a way that’s not meant to be titillating but disturbing, it’s still here and did not make me happy. It doesn’t help that Buckingham is sitting there on the cover smiling at the reader as if to say “Yeah, I did that. And?” That said, there is one fantastic reason to read this, and it’s Elizabeth, who, like Margaret before her, is getting more and more furious and unhinged, and the faces that Kanno draws to convey this are first rate. This is not an easy read, but I still want to see how it all plays out. – Sean Gaffney

UQ Holder, Vol. 17 | By Ken Akamatsu | Kodansha Comics – This is at its best when it’s revisiting its past, as with earlier volumes. While fifteen wrapped up Negima and gave us an ultra-happy ending, this is not that universe, and there will be no wedding between Chisame and anyone here, as we discover just how Negi got to be what he is and why Nodoka and Yue are on his side. Less impressive is the resolution of the bomb on the space station plot, which involves one of the characters sacrificing their immortality to save the day ’til an ass pull that’s so out of nowhere that even I, a very forgiving person, can’t accept it. Oh yes, and not a fan of Eva/Touta, so seeing Chachazero (revived briefly) nagging her about it did not thrill me. Sill, the Negima stuff was great. – Sean Gaffney

Yona of the Dawn, Vol. 19 | By Mizuho Kusanagi | VIZ Media – Zeno’s sad backstory has concluded, so volume nineteen is mostly transitional. Still, because this is Yona, it’s still really good. First, the group runs into the former site of a Blue Dragon village, whereupon the spirit of a previous Blue Dragon possesses Sinha. He threatens to use the rest of the party as vessels for the spirits of the bandits with whom he was trapped long ago, but then he meets Yona. I loved the panel where this guy just involuntarily starts weeping from being in her presence. She’s able to soothe him in no time, and then she and the boys end up accompanying Riri on a journey to another country. Or, rather, they *would* if they weren’t ambushed in a pleasant-seeming town on this side of the border. Yona is always fabulous, even when it’s just moving the plot along. – Michelle Smith

Yuri Is My Job!, Vol. 4 | By miman | Kodansha Comics – We finally get the climax of the arc here, and it’s handled pretty well given that this series is reveling in yuri tropes while trying to steer clear of any actual yuri relationships. Sumika’s past shows us that, to my surprise, she was not the one involved in the past “tragedy,” though I did like seeing how said tragedy seems to have merely led to an Important Haircut rather than anything more drastic. Still, it does help Sumika realize that she’s not there to stop Kanoko from confessing—Kanoko’s never going to do that—but to be there when the emotions of burying her love get to be too much. As a result, we get two new soeurs… erm, schwesters, and a final lighter chapter whose plot is “Yano’s large chest is too sexy for our room.” Decently handled. – Sean Gaffney

By: Sean Gaffney

[ccorinnef]

Halloween Art Throughout History

Hello my loves! I must first apologise (again!) for slacking with my blog posts. I’ve been really beating myself up about not writing more but I have been attempting to complete Inktober this year and I just couldn’t fit it all in.

I thought, since it is Halloween I could make it up to you by sharing twenty of the creepiest, spookiest, gruesomest paintings I could find.

[TRIGGER WARNING: Some of these paintings depict death, dead bodies, skeletons and blood]

Aksel Waldermar Johannessen - The Night

Aksel Waldemar Johannessen was a Norwegian humanist painter who focused on working class and unfortunate subjects. He is considered Norways ‘forgotten artist’ because he only gained recognition after his death. Johannessen trained in sculpture and painting and was able to make a living first as a furniture maker and then as a painter. He suffered as an alcoholic for many years and often painted himself into his work in an autobiographical attempt. “Thematic, the images are very ambitious ranging from the grotesque to the idyllic; from depictions of sexuality, violence, prostitution, alcoholism and war to idyllic and intimate work.” In this painting, his wife posed to become ghost-like figure standing in the park at night. The use of colour (dark background colours contrast with the bright blues and yellows of the figure) make this painting seem very spooky and creepy.

Henry Fuseli - The Nightmare

Henry Fuseli was born and grew up in Switzerland until he was forced to flee from a vengeful corrupt family; he explored Germany before ending up in England where he spent most of the rest of his life. Fuseli’s father, Johann Caspar Füssli, was a portrait and landscape painter. Having received a classical education in Zurich, Fuseli later paid his way by writing before Sir Joshua Reynolds advised him to pursue art. He was both Professor of Painting and Keeper at the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Fuseli is famous for his supernatural imagination; although he paints in a style consistent with Romanticism, his paintings are inspired by the paranormal. He was a master of light and shadow which he utilised to emphasise the drama in his paintings. The Nightmare portrays a “dreaming woman and the content of her nightmare.” This painting is often described as “a nightmare that causes nightmares”; it is a horrible representation of some of humanity’s deepest fears. Fuseli’s powerful use of light and shadow in this painting makes it very emotive to view; I can imagine myself in the place of the sleeping woman and feel genuine fear. This painting portrays a fear as old as humanity – the fear of not being safe while sleeping.

Katsushika Hokusai - The Ghost of Kohada Koheiji

Hokusai was a Japanese artist from the Edo period; his most famous artwork is The Great Wave off Kanagawa, a piece which I’m sure everyone has seen at some point in their lives. Hokusai began painting at a very early age, practicing the skills his father had as a mirror-maker for the Shōgun. During his teenage years, he was an apprentice learning wood carving, print making and painting. Throughout his career, he distinguished different artistic styles by changing his name for each one. This painting depicts a scene from a Japanese legend where a murdered actor haunts his wife and her lover. The figure is quite gruesome in is design; the skull still has some hair and skin attached. The painting is very eerie as the zombie actor peers through the mosquito net at his wife.

Francisco Goya - Saturn Devouring His Son

Goya is considered simultaneously as the last of the old masters and the first of the modern masters; during his lifetime he enjoyed great success as a Spanish Romantic painter and printmaker. He trained under José Luzán y Martinez and Anton Raphael Mengs, later securing a position with the Spanish Crown as a court painter. Following a severe illness which left him deaf in 1793 his work became darker and bleaker.  This painting depicts a scene from a Romanised Greek myth in which Saturn eats his children to avoid a prophecy that one of them will overthrow him. Goya painted this piece, along with thirteen others known as the “Black paintings”, with oil paints directly onto the walls of his home near Madrid. While he never intended these paintings to be seen by anyone, the painting of Saturn is particularly disturbing.

Francisco Goya - The Dog

Another of Goya’s ‘Black paintings’ is this one of a drowning dog. This stark and empty painting holds so much emotion; the scared dog is trapped between two oblivions of empty space. This sad and lonely painting depicts a dog that seems to be sinking instead of swimming and is at any moment about to be caught by a huge wave. The fear portrayed in his painting is one of helplessness – perhaps reminiscent of Goya’s own struggle with deafness and old age.

Francis Bacon - Study After Velázquez’s Portrait of Innocent X

Francis Bacon was an Irish-British painter renowned for his raw style of painting and his typically religious subject matter. Bacon was a late-comer to painting; he drifted through most of his life as an interior decorator, bon vivant and gambler. His artwork was often focussed on a single subject for extended periods of time. After the suicide of his lover, his artwork become “more sombre, inward-looking and preoccupied with the passage of time and death.” Throughout his career, Bacon returned to Velázquez’s Portrait of Innocent X, painting and repainting his own interpretations of the original. This study of the original is often viewed as Bacon’s “best pope.” His powerful use of a purple colour palette and lines turns Pope Innocent X into a horrific image shrieking almost ghost-like as he fades into the background.

Henryk Weyssenhoff - Premonition

Henryk Weyssenhoff was a “Polish-Belarusian landscape painter, illustrator and sculptor.” He was a descendant of the Livonian nobility but grew up in the Ural Mountains from the age of four after his father was exiled to Siberia. His first art lessons were from Lucjan Kraszewski. He graduated from the Imperial Academy of Arts in Saint Petersburg in 1885 with a silver medal and the official title of “Artist.” This painting is very ethereal; the purple colour palette and whispy brushstrokes work well together to establish spooky scene. The fog and smoke in the painting coupled with the eerie ghost-like figure in the centre and scared howling dogs make this artwork incredibly powerful. Looking at it, you can imagine the atmosphere and fear really existing.

Shawn Coss - Generalized Anxiety Disorder

While he has a background in emergency nursing, Shawn Coss is an incredible artist from Ohio who specialises in dark art. He is most popular for is work on the webcomic series Cyanide & Happiness. In 2016, he used the popular challenge Inktober to create a series of drawings which portray mental illness, Inktober Illness. The drawings all resemble alien humanoids (Doctor Who’s The Silence, anyone?) that embody the symptoms of each mental illness they are depicting. While these characters are definitely a bit creepy, the scary thing about them is how real they are in their portrayals. As someone who suffers from mental illness, being able to see my usually invisible illness validates my experiences and lets me know that I am not alone.

William Blake - The Ghost of a Flea

William Blake is most famously remembered for his poems however he also made a considerable amount of paintings. Blake’s paintings have philosophical and supernatural elements while still being in the style of Romanticism. This painting was inspired by a “spiritual vision” that Blake had; fleas contain the souls of men who were greedy and bloodthirsty. Blake’s representation of the flea as a humanised character could be suggesting the idea that humans possess horrible qualities or that humans and animals are no different. By painting this piece with dark and muted earth tones, Blake manages to make the flea appear incredibly creepy. This character is the stuff of nightmares, creeping through the darkness to its victims.

William Blake - The Great Red Dragon and the Beast from the Sea

Another spooky painting by Blake is this one of The Great Red Dragon and The Beast From The Sea. Blake takes his inspiration for this piece from the Bible’s Book of Revelations. This terrifying painting depicts a representation of the devil standing over a seven-headed sea beast. The dark and muted palette add to the horror and drama of this painting. I would not want to meet either of those creatures on a dark night!

Emil Nolde - Mask Still Life III

Emil Nolde was a German-Danish artist who practised expressionism. He was one of the first artists to begin experimenting with colour in oil and watercolour, and is now known for his frequent use of yellows and reds along with his expressive brushwork. While he worked in creative industries throughout his early adulthood, he only began to pursue becoming an artist in his thirties. This painting is a study of masks in the Berlin Museum; the brilliant colours and bold brushwork becomes a macabre and almost surreal painting.

Edvard Munch - The Scream

This artist is one of Norway’s most famous; Edvard Munch was a painter and printmaker who was inspired by psychological themes and expressionism. He was raised by his aunt and deeply religious father:  "My father was temperamentally nervous and obsessively religious—to the point of psychoneurosis. From him I inherited the seeds of madness. The angels of fear, sorrow, and death stood by my side since the day I was born." Munch suffered poor health throughout his childhood and began painting to ease his boredom as he was kept home from school. His imagination was overwhelmed by macabre visions inspired by ghost stories and religious dogma. He later attended the Royal School of Art and Design in Kristiania (Oslo). The Scream was inspired by a feeling he had as he was walking home one night while the sun set that nature was screaming. The blood red sky certainly heightens the horrible intensity of this painting as the figure “screams” with anxiety.

Salvator Rosa - The Temptation of St Anthony

Rosa was an Italian Baroque artist known for being a bit of a rebel. He studied art with relatives until his father’s death when he had to take over the care and financial support of his family. Following the advice of Giovanni Lanfranco, Rosa moved to work in Rome. When he returned to Naples he started exploring spooky landscapes in his artwork, painting romantic picturesque pieces. While he painted in a very classical style, the subjects he chose were often far more imaginative than was usual for his time. This painting depicts a scene from St Anthony of Athanasius’ biography where he was attacked by demons in the Egyptian desert. Rosa’s portrayal of the demons is particularly horrifying and terrifying.

Hans Memling - Hell

Hans Memling was a German painter working in the style of the Early Flemish painters. Memling was very successful during his lifetime; he became one of Bruges leading painters of religious portraits and diptychs. This painting depicts Memling’s interpretation of Hell and was intended to scare piety into members of the church. This terrifying painting shows a monstrous amalgamation of “man, woman, dragon, devil, bird and dog” dancing on top of its burning victims. The distinctly red colour palette lends itself to the religious imagery of hell as a place of eternal fire. This creepy painting must have certainly achieved its purpose – I definitely find the grotesque image spooky.

Andy Warhol - Big Electric Chair

Andy Warhol was an incredibly successful American Pop artist. He is often considered one of the most notable people of the 1960s; his work focussed on exploring the “relationship between artistic expression, celebrity culture and advertising.” This eerie painting depicts an electric chair alone in the middle of a desolate room. A sign on the wall read ‘silence’ as though a promise for those who await the chair. This terribly disturbing artwork is an ode to the cruelty of humanity. “Everything I do is connected with death.”

Théodore Géricault - Heads, Severed

This horrific painting comes from the work of French artist, Théodore Géricault. He was educated by Carl Vernet and Pierre-Narcisse Guérin in English sporting art and classical composition, respectively. While he was very talented, he was bored of Neoclassicism and instead painted in the Romantic style. What makes this particular painting so gruesome is the fact that the heads were found by Géricault in Paris Morgue. Obviously unafraid to study emotional and morbid subjects, he has tragically posed these heads as though they were simply sleeping. I think it is part of the human condition to be at once terrified and fascinated with death.

Salvador Dalí - The Face of War

Salvador Dalí is one of the most famous surrealist artists the world has known. The Spanish artist practiced in a range of mediums including painting, sculpture, film and jewellery. His imaginative and eccentric style lends itself to his surrealist work. This painting was created while Dalí lived in California inspired by the trauma of war. The infinity implied by the repeating faces inside the eyes and mouth seems to suggest a feeling of being haunted by the memory of people lost in the war that is never ending. In addition the portrait is painted against a stark and desolate background which could hint at the feelings of isolation associated with depression. Almost definitely representing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, this painting is haunting and emotional; the overall feeling is of being consumed by the mental illness left from the war. Dalí himself believed his work to be premonitions of the war to come.

Giovanni Boldini - Spanish Dancer at the Moulin Rouge

This Italian artist was known as the “Master of Swish” because of his loose flowing painting style. Boldini studied at the Academy of Fine Arts in Florence and while in Florence he met the Macchiaioli painters who had a profound influence on him. Most famous for his portrait paintings, Boldini also painted a range of other subjects such as landscapes. This incredibly expressive painting of a Spanish dancer at the Moulin Rouge perfectly captures the movement of dance. What makes this painting spooky is the fact that there are too many hands – there seems to be a ghost haunting the dancer.

Zdzisław Beksiński - Untitled

Zdzisław Beksiński was a Polish artist focussing on surreal dystopian art. His style is usually described as Baroque or Gothic with expressionistic elements. Beksiński trained in architecture but found that he didn’t enjoy it so he started exploring sculpture, photography and painting. His paintings often portray feelings of anxiety especially in his later more spooky artworks. This untitled ominous painting depicts two skeletons wrapped in each others’ embrace. Painted with dark earthy-red tones this powerful piece conveys a sense of the struggle between the struggle for life and the inevitability of death. I think this piece is particularly emotive because it plays into such a deep human fears.

Vincent van Gogh - Head of a Skeleton with a Burning Cigarette

And to end this post on a slightly more light-hearted note: this painting by Vincent van Gogh. He is arguably one of the most famous artists ever. The Dutch Post-Impressionist painter painted everything from landscapes to still life’s and portraits; he amassed over two-thousand paintings, most in the final years of his life. Van Gogh suffered from multiple mental illnesses, including depression, psychotic episodes and delusions, which saw him in and out of psychiatric hospitals. Van Gogh painted this piece while he studied at the art academy in Antwerp where anatomical drawings were a regular exercise. Instead of taking this exercise very seriously, van Gogh painted his skeleton with a lit cigarette in its teeth. I will always appreciate this slightly rebellious humour.

For more spooky art see here, here, here, here or here.

I hope you all have a fantastic Halloween!