#and the smaller one is little painter and little witch | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brokasteltranslations · 5 years ago

Text

Fate/Requiem: Chapter 4

Several days had passed since I had been relieved of my duties as the Reaper. No more work had come in from my master, Caren Fujimura, since the Kundry case, and I no longer received information on a preferential basis over the municipal network. I had been barred from the critical point where the Akihabara district barrier was located, and my access to Kanda Shrine and Yushima Temple, where multiple ley lines converged, had also been restricted. Stripped of my rank and duties, I was nothing more than another truant – and one dragging a nameless, powerless, useless Servant in tow to boot. A lone wolf not even worth employing as a guard dog.

Fortunately, Akihabara was a prime tourist destination, and as long as I wore my usual swimwear and windbreaker I would more or less blend in with the usual clientele. However, that did nothing to help me feel less out-of-place. Whatever I did, I just felt like running away and hiding in a hole.

I had received no more information on the Command Seal Hunter. It was worrying that the case had not yet been publicly acknowledged. My gut told me that it had not been quietly solved and faded away. It was merely biding its time.

Whispers of the “Woman with the Missing Hand” circulated Shibuya. It had become something of an urban legend among students.

Don't you know better than to cut that out? Keep repeating it and it'll become real, and then who'll have to deal with it? It'll be... actually, I suppose it won't be me. Not any more.

----

As a consequence of my newly-imposed freedom, I had taken to wandering the town aimlessly with Pran on a daily basis. Wherever we went, we found faint traces of Chitose's presence. It crossed my mind more than once to quit Akihabara for one of the other wards.

–

There were many things that seemed to draw Pran's interest, but over time I started to notice a broad pattern. It was live experiences that he seemed to enjoy - street performers, buskers, speed painters and the like were what most often caught his eye.

Thinking back to the episode with Kuchime, I tried taking him along to a shop geared towards those 'otaku'. It was crammed to the rafters with endless figurines of buxom girls, male-oriented toys and all manner of merchandise, to the point where I was almost sick of looking at it. However, none of it particularly seemed to resonate with him.

Maybe it's because they're all manufactured goods. Perhaps it's originality that appeals to him?

He stood by, a little sleepily, gazing into the distance as though squinting into the sun, watching faraway strangers. Only when we passed a shop selling astronomical telescopes did he exhibit a different reaction. He squatted down in front of a poster of the planets – clearly not hand-made – and stayed there for well over a minute.

“Do you know Jupiter?”

“This eye... it follows me.”

“Eye? Oh, you mean the Great Red Spot?”

“This planet's so big. It's so big...”

He shivered, then pulled the goggles resting over his head down over his eyes, and peered at the poster once more.

“A planet, huh? I'm surprised you know that word.” Had he picked it up from when I read The Little Prince to him? He had initially talked about coming from somewhere far away – perhaps he wasn't just making it up? Or maybe... no, was that even possible?

I chose my words carefully. “That's a very old photograph. From before the war. The Great Red Spot on Jupiter isn't there any more. It got smaller and smaller, and then it disappeared.”

He smiled gently at the poster.

“Maybe it went to sleep. I hope someone comes to wake it up.”

–

Before I knew it, the day of the Grail Tournament had arrived. I hadn't exactly been waiting with bated breath, but still I found myself in front of the Colosseum.

The colossal stadium was located on the outskirts of Akihabara, bordering the ocean. Its enormous silhouette threatened to overwhelm the surrounding cityscape. Towering arches, each easily the size of a skyscraper, rose high in three, four levels to form the thick exterior of the cylindrical structure and enclose the arena within.

This was a place of pure competition. The poets once spoke of the ancient Roman emperors giving their people bread and circuses; here was the circus reborn for the modern age, the manifestation of the people's right to entertainment.

–

I had ended up accompanied to the Colosseum by Pran and Karin. Koharu had, to my great chagrin, seen fit to furnish me with not one, not two, but a whole four reserved tickets – two Master-Servant pairs. Technically Servants had no need for tickets – after all, they could just assume their spiritual forms – but no-one willing to come to see the Grail Tournament in person could reasonably be refused a seat, and they were provided in pairs as a matter of course. That being said...

“How long's it been?”

It had been twenty minutes since the stadium had opened, and we were still waiting.

Enormous lines snaked from each and every one of the Colosseum's myriad entrances. At this rate, the tournament would probably have started before we got to our seats. Personally I hardly minded, but it must have bothered Karin, because she suddenly yelled out at the top of her voice.

“All right, fine! Flake out on me, see if I care! We're going in, you hear?”

“You really want to go in? You sure you don't want to wait a bit longer?” I did my best to keep my voice neutral.

“Damn right I'm sure! Never should've invited you anyway, you lousy no-show son of a...”

None of her messages had prompted a response, it seemed.

–

The individual keeping us waiting was the weary-looking guitar player, Kuchime.

Unsure what exactly to do with my four tickets, I had decided to start by offering them to people I knew. Karin herself had snatched the chance with typical zeal, but her partner Kouyou had been reluctant to join us, leaving me with one left over. However, a few days later the two of us had happened to stumble across Kuchime in a side-street in Akihabara, strumming away with his usual gloomy air and being flatly ignored by every passer-by. Karin had called out, probably taking pity on him.

“Hey, Kuchime, was it? Ever thought of checking out the Grail Tournament? Maybe the halftime show'll give you some tips on how not to make your customers run a mile.”

“Ain't got no need for that, little missy. I'm happy as long as I'm getting' through to people with ears to hear.”

“Think you're some kinda auteur, huh? Keep dreaming, idiot. Why don't you just go the whole way and die young while you're at it!”

I had watched blankly as she exploded at him unprovoked. Her tirade had ended with her snatching the ticket from my hands and thrusting it squarely into his unshaven face. Had she done it in a spontaneous surge of pity for this dishevelled musician, or had she been planning it all along? I may have been the Reaper, but even I wasn't so insensitive as to probe any further.

However, in the end, the chance she had taken came to nothing. She stalked towards the arena, fuming. I followed her, leading Pran by the hand.

–

Eventually, we arrived at our designated seats. The interior of the Colosseum was spacious, tall, and delightfully modern.

I now understood why the queues today had been particularly bad: the staff were conducting unusually extensive baggage checks and body searches on all attendees. I had even seen staff members flagging down particular individuals for Command Seal checks, and it was hard not to notice the guns at the hips of a number of security personnel dotted around the stadium.

I'm glad they didn't try to check my Command Seals. Maybe the reservations got us through...

In any case, it was gratifying to see that my warning to Hannibal hadn't gone unheeded. Although there was always the possibility that the organisers had gotten wind of the serial killings themselves, and acted of their own accord.

“Yo! Sorry we took so long.” Karin reappeared with Pran in tow. Both of their arms were piles high with soft drinks, packets of peanuts and other junk food. She tossed me a freshly-grilled hot dog.

“So this is the bread part, huh? Shouldn't be long until the circu- Yeowch! Aah! My tongue!”

“Circus? You mean the halftime show, right? Oh yeah, there was a stall selling some kinda porridge too if you want some. I tapped out though, seemed pretty weird.”

“Porridge, huh? How odd... Hey, who gave you those?!”

I suddenly registered Pran was decked from head to toe in tournament merchandise, complete with a little paper cap and a megaphone. He was ready for the show.

I couldn't stop myself from bursting out laughing, and soon both me and Karin were clutching our sides. She was so engrossed in the tournament now that it was hard to imagine she had been furious not twenty minutes ago. I could probably learn a lot from how quickly she rebounded.

Next to our seats on the very front row was a space to be kept open in case of emergencies. Fortunately, it was just large enough for Kouyou to squeeze in. Accommodating larger Servants was probably half of the reason it was there.

–

After a minute or so, the music playing throughout the stadium increased in volume and a rousing melody began to play. It seemed we'd timed our arrival perfectly.

The music faded away, and for a moment, the entire arena fell silent. Then, as if on cue, a voice rang out across the stadium. Below us, eldritch lights began to dance across the very front row where the patricii would have sat in the original Colosseum. A diminutive figure strode down to the aisle, and unfurled a pair of feathered wings. At the same time, the main screen cut to a close-up of a girl - a woman? - dressed in a plain white Grecian tunic.

“Good evening, my lovely little piglets!” Her greeting echoed around the Colosseum at amplified volume. “Welcome, one and all, to the ocean stage of the Grail Tournament! That's right! We're all setting sail for Okeanos, and I, the great witch Circe, will be your guide!”

She stoked the crowd's excitement, and they answered with a deafening roar… although I did pick up some rather crude jeers mixed in with the cheering.

“Thank you, thank you, my little piglets! I love you too! Now, before we meet all our brave warriors, I'd like to introduce our commentary team!”

Two burly men strode down the aisle to join her, waving to the audience.

“First, for the Ottoman Corsairs, we have a scallywag among scallywags! The Gentleman of the Caribbean! The one and only Blackbeard, Edward Teach!”

“That's me!” Blackbeard was greeted by deafening boos. He did not seem to care a jot.

“Sounds like you know him well! Let's move swiftly on!”

“Wait, that's all I get?!”

“Next, for the Carthaginian Alliance, we have the king of admirals! The man who saved the Roman Empire from the Ptolemaic Dynasty! Friend and advisor to Emperor Augustus, I give you Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa!”

Agrippa! The commander who led the Romans to victory at the Battle of Actium!

I expected him to bask in the applause of the crowd, but instead he rounded on the emcee.

“What is this? I never agreed to this! First you invite me to attend nigh on midnight last night, and now you expect me to commentate?! Explain yourself!”

“About that... Honestly, we wanted Eukleides of Alexandria, but he cancelled at the last moment. What are Foreigners like, right?”

“Some nerve on you, girl! You expect a general of Rome to commentate on the Carthaginians? And you! Yes, you, the Servant with the easel! You think capturing my face is funny, do you?!”

The sight of the irate Agrippa slowly being talked down by the witch emcee, and eventually taking a reluctant seat at the commentator's desk, drew no small amount of laughter from the audience.

“All right, everyone, make sure you have your channels all set to your favourite team! If you're feeling peckish, why not try some delicious kykeon?”

–

“Well, that sure was something.”

Karin was grinning next to me. I, for my part, was aghast. This was grotesque, a vulgar display that made a mockery of Servants' pride and nobility. It was difficult to tell how much was real and how much was acted, but the tastelessness of the ambiguity only made me feel more disgusted. The tournament itself hadn't even begun yet, and I had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

I guess the least I can do is watch it through. I probably won't be getting another chance.

My reasons for being here were twofold. Firstly, I wanted to see what I could learn about Koharu's mysterious Possession ability. I had also been deeply impressed by the way that, despite being aware of her naivety, she disapproved wholeheartedly of any wrongdoing, and the evident admiration with which she viewed her companions.

My second reason was that I wanted to see for myself the incredible power that Servants were permitted to wield here. I felt both awe and terror for Noble Phantasms. It was baffling to me that abilities so destructive might be allowed to be used freely.

The citizens of Mosaic City were different to Masters in the true sense. They were no magi, with magic circuits passed down from previous generations or developed through special training, and it went without saying that none of them possessed a Magic Crest. The mana that powered their magecraft originated from the Holy Grail, and was distributed throughout the city via ley-lines. This mana was more than enough to sustain a Servant in everyday life with no discomfort. However Noble Phantasms, which employed magecraft on a much larger scale and consumed vast amounts of mana, were another matter entirely. Activating them was highly challenging, and they could kill a Master unless attempted with extreme care.

Broadly speaking, the most common foes I encountered in my work were Masters who fought with little regard for their own lives, because they had found something they valued more.

Had the combatants in this Colosseum all reined their latent magical abilities to extraordinary levels? Or had the footage I had seen simply been enhanced in some way after the fact? I had come to determine the truth.

“Oh, there you are, Kouyou.”

In the formerly empty space in the midst of the cheering crowd, the enormous bulk of the Ogress had appeared. She sat with her belly pressed to the ground, trying to make herself as small as possible. Occasionally her eyes glanced sideways to meet with Pran's.

–

Feeling a little relieved, I turned back to the arena. The battlefield was enormous: a huge rectangular arena, two hundred metres on the larger side. Above each of the spectator seats floated semi-transparent screens that provided a closer view of the action.

Finally, the battlefield began to change. Cracks ran across the centre, and the stage began to fold in on itself with mechanical precision, forming a deep, wide basin. Water swirled in to fill it, and rocks rose from beneath its surface to form a maze of crags in the open water. Two galleys burst from the canals at either side of the stage, defying the current. They hung in the air for a second, like salmon poised mid-leap above a waterfall, and then crashed down into the water below with a mighty splash. A host of smaller boats and schooners followed them out, and quickly organised themselves into two fleets.

There was no magic in this, only the most cutting-edge stage equipment... although perhaps it was best not to think about the enormous, ominous shadow circling beneath the water's surface.

–

“Now, my little piglets, I think we've kept you waiting long enough! Let's get this naumachia started! We know you're tired of the same-old same-old, so this year we thought we'd change things up a little with a large-scale team-on-team battle! Which of our brave teams in Akihabara today will be crowned the conquerors of the high seas?

“First, we have the Ottoman Corsairs! For these terrors of the Mediterranean Sea, this man once more takes up the rank of Pasha! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the great pirate of Barbary, the Redbeard, Heyreddin Barbarossa!

“And that's not all! Next we have his second-in-command! There's not a man west of Austria who doesn't know his name: the Grand Master of the Knights Templar, Jacques de Molay!”

The witch introduced each of the competitors one by one, stoking the crowd's excitement. Illustrious admirals and infamous pirates lined up upon the deck.

“And now, last but not least, someone you know very well! The mightiest commander of the navies of the far east - can you say “Hassou-tobi”? Our favourite natural-born Heike-killer, Minamoto Kurou Yoshitsune!

“Could this samurai be the most dangerous competitor on the field today? I'm sure the other side won't be showing much quarter, so look forward to some spectacular acrobatics!”

–

The pretty young warrior looked a little uncomfortable in responding to chants of “Ushiwaka!”, but eventually gave in and began to wave to the crowd. The sight broke me from my trance, and a young girl standing nearby caught my attention; she hadn't been introduced.

Could that be Yoshitsune's Master?

She was dressed in elegant traditional Japanese robes and heavy facial makeup, matching Yoshitsune, but she herself appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary citizen. Behind or beside the other Servants stood similar unassuming figures. More than a couple of them were wearing masks that obscured their faces.

Eventually, the oriental arrangement of Mozart's Turkish March playing throughout the Colosseum drew to a close, and was replaced with an unsettling, savage, African-style drumbeat. The Grail Tournament was as tasteless as ever.

–

“Now swivel your heads the other way, my adorable piglets! Little corkscrew tails to the east, and snouts to the west! Please give it up for the mighty heroes of the Carthaginian Alliance!

“Cast your eyes upon Rome's worst nightmare! At his back, the souls of three war elephants with whom he crossed the Pyrenees and the Alps! Ladies and gentlemen, the Lightning Commander, Hannibal Barca!”

The sight of Hannibal, cross-armed on the deck in traditional battle garments, was so wildly different from the garrulous old tourist I had met in Cafe Borges that I could hardly believe it was the same man. The mighty cheer from the crowd put not so much as a crack in his stern expression, and he harboured a menacing aura.

“And not to be outdone, his second-in-command: The Firebrand of Castile, El Cid!”

The witch continued with her introductions, each one punctuated with thunderous applause. I tuned them out. My attention was absorbed by a small figure on the deck, with a white coat draped across her shoulders. I followed her with my augmented vision as she stared keenly into the enemy ranks.

He stood a short distance behind her, head askew, hands on his hips. He seemed devoid of tension, as though this were nothing more than a routine warmup.

“And taking up the rearguard is someone I'm sure you all remember! None other than the warrior who took the Newbie Tournament by storm! Our proud Knight of the Round Table, Sir Galahad!”

–

With the introductions concluded, the galleys began to slip forwards, and each team assembled into their respective formations. Karin rapped on my knee with her megaphone, unable to conceal her excitement.

“I told you it was gonna be awesome! Dunno much about the pirates, but even I know Yoshitsune!”

“You expecting me to be impressed or something? You could hardly call yourself Japanese if you didn’t.”

I could not imagine it would be easy for this collection of pirates, outlaws to the bone that they were, to assimilate cleanly into everyday life in Mosaic City - although, of course, there were exceptions. Perhaps it was for the best that there was a place for them here, where they could put their talents to use while also entertaining the populace. However...

“I know it's just a mock battle, but don't you think this seems really one-sided? The Ottomans are obviously better at sea. Hannibal's famous for his war elephants, but he can't even use them on the water.”

“Haven't been reading up, eh Eri? Here's a flyer for you. See? Says right here the field will change halfway through, and turn into a land battle. There's your Carthaginian advantage.”

“Ah. I get it.” This was never supposed to be a fair battle, but a dramatic turnaround against overwhelming odds. The perfect script to drive the audience wild. I myself had to confess, I was looking forward to seeing Yoshitsune and Galahad face off – so much so that a part of me wished this were a real Holy Grail War.

“Yeah. Now I see.” I gazed around at the nearby spectators with dawning realisation. I felt as though I'd grown a little closer to understanding how these competitors could wield such extraordinary power, and the system that supported them in doing so.

----

“Eh?”

The back of my neck prickled. Someone, somewhere, was watching me.

I slid my gaze slowly around myself, careful not to let my reaction be noticed, but my stalker was impossible to discern through the interference of the crowd around me.

I'm being watched. No doubt about it. There's something else, too. A familiar, maybe?

The Borgia siblings' warning came to mind. Someone I'd previously crossed, out for revenge. As I looked around warily, hoping to forestall some impending attack, I noticed something strange: dotted throughout the crowd were spectators standing motionless, seemingly blind to the excitement around them.

Victims of the Command Seal Hunter? No, that doesn't seem right...

I focused, filtering out the auditory noise, following the sense of wrongness back to its source... and happened to catch a snippet of conversation from the row in front.

“You serious? A fire in Shinjuku?”

“Where? Tsunohazu? Kashiwagi?”

“Seems like it's around Hanazono way.”

Hanazono?

My old house was in Hanazono. Which was to say, Chitose's house was in Hanazono. I leaned forward a little, and stared at the woman in front's phone from over her shoulder.

“Eri, the hell are you doing?”

On the screen was a video someone had uploaded to the municipal network.

“What on earth...?”

A video of a building on fire. In real time.

A row of old wooden houses in Shinjuku wreathed in smoke. A human figure appeared from the billowing grey curtain, aflame from head to toe. However, they did not run or drop to the ground, but continued calmly into the next building, and even as their blood boiled and their skin charred with the flames' caress, began to feed the flames.

The video cut short - interrupted by a new upload of a public train brought to a standstill, flames licking at its roof.

As I watched, a buzz of concern began to spread throughout the crowd. It was hardly surprising; there were probably no small number of spectators here from Shinjuku. I turned around to see that Karin, too, was transfixed by her phone.

“What's wrong?”

“They say there's been some kinda 'pedestrian accident' in front of Shibuya station. A tram derailed and went across the cross... Oh. Ew. I'm not looking at that. Trains are stopped too. The hell's going on?”

Simultaneous incidents, all across Mosaic City.

“Ugh...”

I gripped my arm as a dull pain blossomed inside it. The stench of death was agitating the spirits. Black blood oozed out from beneath my hand, as their ire turned on my own body.

Just when I thought I'd gotten them under control...

This arena was no longer a place I should be. I was the greatest threat here, to the tens of thousands of spectators present and the partners by their sides. Right now, these simultaneous incidents concerned me.

Security here was tight, and more to the point, greater warriors than I could ever hope to be now thronged the main stage. This was perhaps the safest place in all of Mosaic City. My place was not here – as much as I had wanted to see Koharu fight, I no longer had time to worry about that.

“Eri, wait.”

Karin must have guessed my intentions as soon as I stood up.

“You're going? Just like that? Without me, again?”

“Sorry. I know I invited you out here and everything, but... there's something I need you to do.”

“What is it?”

I stared back at Karin for a moment, then looked down to the boy by her side.

“Kouyou, do you think you could take care of Pran?”

The ogress looked to Karin questioningly, then gave a slow nod.

“Consider it done. Just leave it to us, Eri.” Karin flashed her newly-recovered Command Seals, alongside an irrepressible grin. Just as I made to leave, Karin's phone buzzed with a notification, and she pulled it out.

“Who's texting people at this kinda time?”

She checked the screen and sighed.

“It's that Kuchime asshole. He says “Sorry.””

“That's all?”

“That's all.” She smiled, resignedly and a little sadly.

----

I left the seats behind and made my way to the outer hall. While still indoors, this was an airy, open space, with high arches modelled meticulously after Roman architecture. It extended far away in both directions, curving gently to match the shape of the arena. Shops lined the outer wall, still milling with a fair number of late customers. Here and there people clustered around screens outside the storefronts, drinking as they watched the matches unfold.

What's even the point of coming here?, I thought. You could be doing that at home!

–

As I hurried towards the exit, I organised the idea I'd hit upon earlier in my head: to whit, that the competitors in the Holy Grail Tournament were taking their mana from the crowd itself. Tens of thousands of pseudo-magi, all pouring mana into the Servants doing battle below. That was my hypothesis.

This Colosseum was not a post-war addition to Akihabara. It had been a part of this town since long before the world was restructured, and it was far too large an anomaly to be permitted to exist without a reason. And in ancient Rome, the battles that took place in the colosseums had been sacred acts; offerings made to the gods.

Heroic Spirits take on all of our thoughts, hopes and dreams. They draw power from them.

The greater the mark a Servant had left upon history, and the more fame they had earned, the more power they drew. Such was their nature – and as an unintended and tragic consequence, Servants were occasionally summoned with the strange and cruel skill, “Innocent Monster”.

How much of this do the Riedenflaus family realise, I wonder?

I couldn't help but wonder just to what extent thaumaturgical systems might be entwined with the structure of the Colosseum itself.

An unexpected voice called me to a halt.

“Erice, we need to talk. It's important.”

It was the first time I had seen Ms. Fujimura in several days. I wheeled around to find her standing in the dimly-lit outer hall, dressed like a librarian as always.

Why is she here? What could she possibly want to talk about?

I strode towards her, with the intention of grilling her on the events in Shibuya and Shinjuku.

As I opened my mouth, I heard an odd sound from the broadcast. As the camera focused on the Carthaginian flagship, the witch performing the commentary had yelped in shock. I spun around to look. Ms. Fujimura, too, focused on the screen.

What I saw defied comprehension.

Regardless of the fact that the enemy was still distant, Hannibal, the Carthaginian commander, whipped his blade from the sheath at his belt, and without a moment's hesitation thrust it deep into the chest of his second-in-command, El Cid.

“Gah!”

El Cid's face froze in an expression of disbelief. His Master rounded on Hannibal in his confusion. The Carthaginian pulled his bloodstained sword from his ally's chest, and without a care for the man's protests, swung his sword crosswise in a vicious slash.

Both El Cid and his master collapsed. Two heads flew from the boat, to splash down unceremoniously into the artificial sea.

#Fate/Requiem #Fate #translation #light novel

88 notes · View notes

corinthbayrpg · 4 years ago

Photo

NAME. Sofia Morales AGE & BIRTH DATE. 48 & November 3rd, 1972 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She / Her SPECIES. Fury of Tisiphone OCCUPATION. Diving & Surfing Instructor FACE CLAIM. Lindsey Morgan

BIOGRAPHY

( tw: death ) Sofia Morales was born on a stormy November night, as the second child of Maria Morales who was a relatively well-known painter. Her mother had been born and raised in Toluca in Mexico, but after getting an art degree that her parents frowned upon, she started traveling the world to find inspiration for the landscape scenery paintings she did. Eventually, her mother decided to settle down in the small village of Étretat in France, where she had met the first love of her life, a man who worked with finances, and loved to go sailing in his free time. Sofia’s father had already been a single dad before meeting her mother, raising his son on his own after their mother left them for another man. As neither of them really believed in the concept of marriage, they never wed, but it didn’t slim their love in the slightest. Sofia hardly got to know her father though, as he died in a sailing accident when she was merely two years old. While she always noticed his absence, she had hardly any memories or recollections of the person he was, and therefore never properly had to grieve his death like her half-brother and mother did.

Until Sofia was eight, her mother raised the two of them on their own. Which was actually quite the chaotic experience. Her mother was a chaotic person in general, not the kind of mother who prepared lunches or always remembered the appointments for her children – instead she often forgot about time and space when she was working on a new painting. She never forgot about her children out of malice, and they were aware of that, but at times it wasn’t easy for the two. They spent a lot of their free time at the small beach in Étretat, where Sofia immersed herself in books, but mostly enjoyed the ocean. Maybe it was a leftover of her dad’s DNA in her that she enjoyed the waves so much. She could swim better than she could walk at a young age, and her brother taught her how to surf quite early on in life. She also took a sailing course, despite her mother’s hesitations about it. As long as she was surrounded by water, Sofia was happy.

Shortly after Sofia turned twelve, her mother then introduced a new person into their lives. She had met a woman named Valerie Dupont at one of her art expositions and instantly fell in love. While the women mostly tried to keep their relationship a secret from the public eye, it was two weeks after Sofia’s birthday that her mother introduced Valerie to her children. From one day to the next, she suddenly had two mothers. While her brother and her were hesitant at first, they quickly fell in love with this woman just like their mother had. She was kind, warm, welcoming – she remembered to make lunches, used Sundays to bake cakes, and was exactly the kind of person the three of them needed in their lives to give them some structure. She also already had a daughter that she brought into the family, making them a true patchwork match. Soon enough, all four of them would go to the beach, leaving Sofia’s mother behind to do her paintings, and suddenly Sofia had a woman and a young girl cheering her on when she was chasing waves with her surfboard, and taught her younger sister how to sail a small boat.

What none of them knew was that her step-mother was a witch, and so was her daughter. To this day, Sofia isn’t quite sure how they managed to hide it from them for an extended period of time, but back then, she had no clue something like the supernatural world existed. Any hints, any slip ups from the two, had gone unnoticed. She didn’t believe in Gods, or any other creatures aside of humans, or really just anything that was remotely out of the ordinary. No, Sofia liked nature, and lived in a very human reality. She loved to go camping, to go hiking, to be out on the water – anything that was taking place outside made her happy. She wouldn’t sleep with her windows closed, not even in the coldest winters, just because she felt like she was suffocating without any fresh air coming in through her windows.

In general though, her life was blissfully peaceful. Sofia couldn’t say she had much to complain about. After leaving school, she worked two years as a surfing instructor in Éterat, simply because she didn’t want to leave her family. Sofia had never been someone to make too many friends, her family being the most important part of her life, and therefore that was the part she didn’t want to be too far away from. But she always dreamt of studying, and her mother and step-mother eventually managed to talk her into making her dream come true. That was how she left the small town in France to study biology at a university in Zurich, with a minor in marine biology, making her dreams of one day working in and with nature a reality. She graduated with a bachelor’s degree she was incredibly proud of, and went on to do her master’s degree in Iceland, where she mainly did research on whales’ behavior and also sustainable biology. Afterwards, she started working in the research field, spending a lot of her time on boats or by the ocean in different countries all over the world. During that time, she hardly saw her family, something that left a gaping hole in her heart.

And that was the reason why for Sofia’s twenty-eighth birthday, her only wish was for their family to go on a camping trip together. It was during that weekend that everything changed for her. The weekend started out perfectly fine, it included a hike to a smaller mountain nearby, they took silly family photos, even took a small swim in a tiny lake near where they built their tents. In the evening, they made a bonfire, and eventually crawled into their tents to sleep.

Sofia woke up in the middle of the night, and at first, she wasn’t even sure what woke her up. Then she noticed that the sleeping bag next to hers was empty. She had shared her tent with her step-sister, and decided to go check if everything was alright – more on instinct than out of real worry. But Sofia stepped right into the scene that looked like it came straight out of a nightmare. At first, she only noticed the unmoving body of her own mother on the ground, covered in blood, and only afterwards she lay eyes on a silhouette that was bent over her sister, who was also unmoving and incredibly pale in the dusty moonlight. Sofia was moving before she had really decided on what to do, tearing the vampire’s body away from her sister’s form, screaming in the process. It was an uneven fight, of course, and by the time her brother appeared from his tent, Sofia was unable to walk, one of her legs feeling as if it no longer belonged to her body. She was covered in blood, her own and those of her family members. Her brother ended up being thrown against a tree, a cracking noise making her think that he, too, was no longer breathing. It was then that Sofia first found out that her step-mother was a witch, as she started to use the earth around them as means of protecting them from the vampire. Roots grew around them, encaging them to make it impossible for the vampire to get to them. But in the process, she forgot to protect herself, and was pulled into the woods. Her screams could be heard everywhere in the valley, and when the magic in the roots fell away and they fell to the ground in ashes, Sofia thought this was the end.

Sofia dragged herself to her sister, bending over her, only to find her unmoving and unbreathing. It was then that she cried out for help, furious and full of a need for revenge as Sofia believed that within a matter of minutes, she had lost her entire family. And that was when Tisiphone appeared to her, offering her the opportunity to become something more than what she was, to be able to pursue revenge for what had happened to her family. Blinded by her pain, she did not hesitate before accepting her new role. Sofia was a quick learner, both when it came to her new abilities and everything else there was to know about the supernatural world. It was two years after she had first met Tisiphone that she located the vampire that had killed her mother and younger sister, and paid him back for the crimes he committed with a wooden stake to his heart. She also beheaded him afterwards, just to make sure he was dead and unable to stay alive.

After the incident in the forest, it turned out that her step-mother and brother were still alive. They were severely injured, but recovered from the physical injuries – the emotional ones are some all three of them still carry with them every single day, and have only bound the little family even tighter together. Sofia still vividly remembers that night, dreams of it all the time, and as a reminder she got a tattoo on her thigh where the vampire had left his biggest mark, a reminder of the two people she had lost. The murder of them is what kept her moving through the past years, and still keeps her going these days, trying to fulfill her duty as a fury and make sure no other families will be ripped apart like hers. While she wanted nothing more than to stay with the remaining parts of her family, as a fury she felt restless. She bought a small RV and started using it as a means of moving from one day to the next. Most of the time she’d sleep in woods or by the ocean, where she felt most at home.

Sofia came to Corinth Bay at the call of Tisiphone once more, to join the other furies in trying to help with the veil being torn. Unsure about how long she will stay, she found herself a room in an apartment, and a job as a diving and surfing instructor down by the beach. But her focus hasn’t been on her true passion for a long time, instead she is trying her hardest to use the abilities she has been blessed with, and protect those around Corinth Bay who can’t protect themselves.

PERSONALITY

+ adventurous, responsible, loyal - impatient, opinionated, impulsive

PLAYED BY LISA. GMT+1. She/Her.

#lisa

2 notes · View notes

tipsycad147 · 5 years ago

Text

Taurus April Feast Day of St Bernadette

By shirleytwofeathers

April 16 is the feast day of Saint Bernadette, although in France it is sometimes celebrated on February 18. Saint Bernadette is best known for her visions of the Virgin Mary in 1858 in Lourdes, France and for the healings that have taken place at the location of the visions. St. Bernadette is the patron saint of:

Physical illness

Lourdes, France

Shepherds and shepherdesses

Poverty

Those insulted for their faith

Family

The young shepherdess who saw Our Lady in Lourdes, St. Bernadette, found solace in her suffering by turning her eyes to Our Lord. Suffering today? Pray this prayer from St. Bernadette

“O Jesus, Jesus,” she prayed, “I no longer feel my cross when I think of yours.” If you’re suffering today, pray this excerpt of one of her prayers: Let the crucifix be not only in my eyes and on my breast, but in my heart. O Jesus! Release all my affections and draw them upwards. Let my crucified heart sink forever into Thine and bury itself in the mysterious wound made by the entry of the lance.”

Saint Bernadette and The Goddess

If you think the visions of Saint Bernadette have no connection to magick and the Goddess think again – here is an alternative version to the traditional story:

On the cold morning of February 11, 1858, there was no wood in the Soubirous home, and no fire to warm them. Bernadette set out with her younger sister Toinette, and a neighbour girl, Jean Abadie, to scrounge in the forest for kindling. Maybe they would get lucky and find a rag or a bone to sell.

Heading out of town, the girls neared the foot of Massabieille, a massive, cliff-top rock formation, within view of the ancient hilltop fortress that served as the traditional landmark of the town. To reach the woods, they had to ford the river Gave at the bottom of the cliff. Bernadette’s mother had warned her not to get her feet wet, for that would surely bring on the asthma, so while the other two girls scampered across the river, Bernadette reluctantly hung back.

According to her own accounts, as she lingered near the banks of the Gave, the girls calling after her as they hurried into the woods, she heard a sound like rushing wind. The sound seemed to be coming from a dark grotto in the rock wall under Massabielle. The noon Angelus bells were ringing from the town. As Bernadette turned to investigate the source of the wind, she saw what looked like a glowing young girl, tiny, white, and smiling brightly. She appeared to be standing above the eglantine, or wild rose, that draped the niche over the entrance to the grotto.

Bernadette rubbed her eyes and looked again. This time, the tiny demoiselle nodded, as if to greet her, and opened her arms, smiling all the while. Bernadette’s initial reaction was fear, but she couldn’t run away. She said she felt like she couldn’t move, but she did manage to instinctively put her hand in her pocket and draw out her rosary for protection. She tried to make the sign of the cross, but found that she couldn’t.

In response, the shining little maiden also produced a rosary, and crossed herself in a gesture of surprising beauty and grace. This time, Bernadette found she could respond, and after crossing herself, she began to feel calmer and a little less overwhelmed. Dropping to her knees, Bernadette began to pray her rosary. The little lady fingered her beads along with her. When they had finished, the tiny thing beckoned her to come closer, but Bernadette was too overawed to move. She then vanished, all smiles and delicate grace, leaving Bernadette to rejoin her companions.

Bernadette’s descriptions of the tiny, white maiden were consistent throughout the course of her visions. The apparition, whom she called aquero, or “that thing” in the local dialect, appeared youthful and girlish. There was nothing particularly matronly or maternal about her. Bernadette repeatedly said that aquero was about the same size as herself, if not a bit smaller. Bernadette was very small for her age. Although she had recently turned fourteen, the combined ravages of illness and malnutrition kept her about the size of an average 10- or 11-year-old. According to Bernadette’s earliest descriptions, aquero looked to be about 12 years old. This is an important distinction, and one that the well-meaning supporters of Lourdes apparently prefer to ignore.

Aquero, according to Bernadette’s initial descriptions, was a jeune fille; a bien mignonette, glowing in a white dress spun of a luxurious, soft, shiny stuff. Her head was covered in a white veil of the same magic fabric, so that only a tiny bit of her hair was revealed in the front. Her eyes were bright blue, and set in a long and very white face. The whole figure shone with a gleaming, white radiance. Around her waist was a blue girdle, which folded in the front and fell almost to the hem of her robe. Her tiny feet, barely visible beneath her robe, were bare, but each was adorned with a single, golden rose. Her rosary gleamed as well, with shining white beads and links of gold.

This costume is quite significant, for in this particular area of the Pyrenees, the locals maintained a tradition of fairy lore that told of the petito damizela in white who still lingered in the forests and grottoes of the region. When Bernadette first called the apparition a petito damizela, which translates as a petite, unmarried young lady, she may have actually been referring to aquero as a Pyrenean fairy woman. These Pyrenean fairies were tiny, enchanting ladies in glowing, white robes. Charming, helpful, and better natured than most fairy folk, they were recognised by their gleaming garments and said to spend much time washing them to snowy whiteness in the fountains outside their grotto homes.

The roses on aquero’s feet were yet another aspect of local fairy lore, as was Bernadette’s reluctance to call her by any name other than “that thing.” According to the tradition, these delightful fairy women sometimes married mortal men, making good wives and housekeepers – for a time. Eventually, the husband would slip up and call his fairy wife by her name, at which point she would disappear back into the fairy world forever.

In the Basque population of the Pyrenees, we have a unique link into the mindset of our most distant ancestors. There is reason to believe the Basques have occupied the Pyrenees region from the remotest antiquity, possibly even to the time of the Cro-Magnon cave painters. The inaccessibility of their mountain fastness kept them relatively isolated from the Indo-European influences that swept the rest of the continent. Consequently, the Basques have retained a unique language and a culture that, while not entirely untainted by foreign contact, still reveals roots reaching down into our most shadowy origins.

Furthermore, the Basques, with their extensive folklore and mythology, are relative latecomers to Roman Catholicism. Religious writers of the 1400 and 1500s continue to speak of the Basques as “gentiles” or “pagans.” The widespread persistence of their ancient beliefs and practices provoked the full wrath of the Spanish Inquisition. The brutal repression of centuries of witch hunts has left its mark, and clearly, some of the tradition that remains is highly adulterated and Christianised, but we can still trace influences extending far back into the Neolithic, and perhaps beyond.

Basque beliefs are rooted in the landscape, in the rugged mountains, the waters, and the caves reaching deep into the earth. They held to that most primitive fundamentalism, the belief in the divinity of the masculine Sun and the feminine Moon. The terms Ost or Eguzki refer to the light of the sun and their god of the firmament. This masculine force, similar to Zeus or Thor, ruled the day and the world of light, but the night belonged to Ilargia, the Moon. Ilargia ruled the hidden, dark side of nature, the underworld of the dead. The Basques were forever fascinated with her mysterious phases and cycles.

However, the Basque people’s deepest and most widespread devotion, long before the arrival of Christianity in the Pyrenees, centred on their female deity, the great goddess who lived in the caves. Her name, perhaps the ultimate irony, was Mari. Devotion to Mari spanned the entire Basque territory, and any respectable hilltop boasted a shrine to Mari, and a statue as well, but the caves remained her favourite habitation.

Within the vast lore and ritual dedicated to her worship, the image of Mari emerges, complex and glorious. She moved like a fireball from mountaintop to mountaintop, trailing wild storms from the subterranean caverns in her wake. She demanded honour and charity from men, punishing those who failed to keep their word or refused to help others. Oddly enough, tradition holds that Mari must only be addressed in the familiar pronoun, putting a unique twist on Bernadette’s surprise at being addressed formally by her aquero. Mari commanded legions of fairy spirits, with varying titles in different locales: the Mairi, or Maide of the mountaintop cromlechs and stone circles, and the fey laminak, often spotted combing their hair in the caverns.

This great and very ancient goddess spawned a vast body of tales and traditions, and the rituals of her devotees in the caves of the Pyrenees kept the Spanish Inquisition busy for years. One of her most vicious persecutors was Juan de Zumarraga, who, in 1528, assisted in the biggest Basque witchhunt. Zumarraga eventually moved on to Mexico, where, as bishop, he persecuted and destroyed the native Aztec culture and religion just as vigorously as he had brutalised his Basque brethren.

One of Mari’s more popular minions is a creature known as Beigorri, a red-haired bull or calf. One of several cattle deities associated with her worship, Beigorri’s chief function is to serve as the guardian of the houses, or shrines, of Mari. Seen in that light, the tales of a magical bovine unearthing a long-lost statue of a female divinity, which then refuses to be worshipped in a Christian sanctuary but instead draws her devotees back to congregate at her wilderness origins, starts to make a certain kind of sense. Perhaps, in these unique Marian traditions, which continue to spring up so freely, even after centuries of repression, we can trace both the reemergence of the Basque Mari, and her conflation, in the aftermath of the Inquisition, into the all-encompassing image of the Christian Mary.

Sources:

Wikipedia

Visions Of The Virgin Mary

Pray More Novenas

https://shirleytwofeathers.com/The_Blog/pagancalendar/category/april/page/2/

2 notes · View notes

hollyplays · 7 years ago

Text

The Roundup: July 2018

It’s been a shitty, shitty month. I’m getting evicted, we got into a car accident, the new insurance has my girlfriend confused for someone with a horrible speeding ticket record, and my little brother, who is learning to drive, has started hiding the car keys for some reason.

I have a tendency to hoard media. During my first year of college I was extremely depressed and contemplating suicide when I read a piece of advice- find something to look forward to, and you’ll never do it. So I started hoarding comics- I think I have 180 GBs of comics on my computer- and movies.

Well, at some point during July things got so bad I started burning through my movies. I’m not sure exactly how many I watched, but...it’s a lot. This is going to be long.

(I have since stopped watching multiple movies a day, and gone back to semi normal movie watching habits.)

Tampopo: I think I technically watched this in June and forgot, but I love it. Tampopo is a “food western” about a group of food enthusiasts helping a young woman perfect her ramen restaurant. Tampopo has lots of smaller vignettes about how food affects our lives, and the result is lovely and comforting and meditative. Tampopo is excellent, and manages to have one of the best opening scenes to a movie I’ve ever seen.

The Exterminating Angel: This was my first movie by Luis Bunuel, and I loved it. This kind of supernaturalish, surreal horror really really works for me. Plus, the rich suffer, which is always nice. This movie is really wonderful, plus the behind-the-scenes stuff on the blu-ray was super interesting. Apparently to make the actors more uncomfortable in the scene, Bunuel would rub honey all over their arms. Nasty.

The Fisher King: My second Gilliam movie. Better than Jabberwocky, but I still wouldn’t call it good. Robin Williams was excellent as always, but I felt like Jeff Bridges was playing half a character. It had some touching scenes, but overall kind of forgettable. I don’t think I’ll be seeking out Gilliam anymore.

Badlands: I try not to judge directors on their first movie, but Badlands really comes out in Malick’s favor. This is as wonderful a movie about a serial killer as I’m likely to ever see. It’s like a landscape painting with characters. It manages to never be slow or drag despite long flowing scenes. I’m still thinking about Badlands more than a month later, and that says a lot.

Where the Water Tastes Like Wine: This is a really interesting game. WWTLW has one of the most unique mechanics I’ve ever seen in a video game, and the process of watching your stories grow and evolve is so, so cool. I wish the overworld map wasn’t so barren, and that the sprinting mechanic wasn’t such a pain, but beyond that this game is excellent. The writing here is top-notch.

Eraserhead: I’d technically seen this before, but I was half asleep so I’m counting it. Eraserhead is obviously good- it’s film history for a reason- but on a second viewing I’m struck by just how impressive the visual storytelling is. The dialogue in this movie could fit on half a page, but there’s still so so much to it. You need to see this at least once.

Frances Ha: “Frustrating, but enjoyable” seems to be Baumbach’s general ouvre, and Frances Ha is no exception. Still, I enjoyed this more than I thought I would. Frances is likable, even when she’s fucking up, which is more than I can say for her life partner Sophie. For as much time as Frances spends making mistakes, it’s really lovely and warm to see things come together for her in the end. Worth a watch, especially at an hour and fifteen minutes.

The Thin Red Line: Jesus christ, this movie is so long. It’s two hours and forty minutes long, and nothing of worth happens after the forty minute mark. It’s a war movie that manages to be beautiful and haunting, which would be impressive if it didn’t just fucking drag. I might watch this again and just turn it off at two hours, honestly.

Days of Heaven: I wanted this to be better than Thin Red Line and it was. Days of Heaven brings Malick’s landscape painter sensibility to labor in the 20th century, and the result is genuinely fantastic. The visuals here are stunning, even if the story is a little lacking- my biggest frustration is that most of the story events take place in the third act, like Days of Heaven is the first part in a series of novels that doesn’t exist.

Fat Girl: I get what this movie was trying to do. I understand the metaphor for how dangerous it is to be a woman. I get it, and I can respect it, but fuck do I hate this movie. I just don’t wanna watch 2 hours of a young fat girl getting shit on by her family, interspersed with rape scenes. I’m not interested in that, no matter how pretty it’s shot.

Mary and the Witch’s Flower: I watched this as a palate cleanser after Fat Girl, and it served that purpose just fine. It’s an okay movie on it’s own, but in the shadow of the rest of Ghibli it kind of pales. The animation and visuals are as phenomenal as ever, but the story is a little all over the place. Definitely still enjoyable, but sort of middling.

Sounds of Summer by Ten Toes Spumoni: If we’re Facebook friends, you’ve probably already seen me talk about this album. It’s been on repeat around here pretty much since it came out. Ten Toes Spumoni is a good friend of mine, and I genuinely believed nothing he made would top Journal of Hypnosis, but Sounds of Summer blows it out of the fuckin water. Throw a few bucks his way, because he deserves it.

Hannah Gadsby’s Nanette: This is a standup comedy act that isn’t particularly funny. It’s amazing, and full of toothed commentary on the world and LGBT issues, but it isn’t funny. It’s heavy, and hard to watch, and worth the trouble. I think this is one of the few things I gave 5 stars this month, and it deserves it.

Wizard of Legend: A big part of watching movies for me this month has been finding the perfect roguelike to play while I watch movies. I eventually settled on Gungeon, but Wizard of Legend was a strong contender too. It’s roguelike elements are really enjoyable, and finding the perfect combination of spells is fun, but resources are a little too scarce for my liking.

My Own Private Idaho: I loved this movie more than I expected to, and I knew I’d like it. My Own Private Idaho offers an exceptionally gay take on modern Shakespeare, and River Phoenix and Keanu Reeves are absolutely phenomenal here. The interview segments are a little hard to watch, but the rest of the movie is beautiful and sad and lovely. One of my favorites in a long time.

Coco: Similar to Witch’s Flower, I thought this was fine. The music is wonderful, and the animation is beautiful, but the story is a little lacking, especially towards the third act. I think Pixar forgot how to write villains that aren’t just ‘good guy’s been bad the whole time’. Hell, even Incredibles 2 did it.Those complaints aside, Coco is really enjoyable and well worth your time.

The Spirit of the Beehive: A meditation on childhood, the Spanish civil war, early film, and Frankenstein. I enjoyed thinking about this movie later more than I actually enjoyed watching it, I think. It’s a little slow, but the third act picks up and wraps the story up nicely. Definitely watch Huellas De Un Espiritu if you watch it, it adds a lot of context which helps the movie out.

Simon Of The Desert: Short movies are nice when you’re watching three a day, so I really appreciated Simon Del Desierto’s 45 minute runtime. It’s both less surreal and funnier than I expected- Simon Del Desierto feels more like Monty Python than Jabberwocky did. Highly recommended.

Cronos: A little disappointing, I’m not gonna lie. I’m a huge Del Toro fan, so I was really excited to watch his first movie, but it left me lukewarm. He describes it as a vampire film, but it takes a long time to find it’s legs. Worth the watch just for Ron Perlman and the scene where a little girl breaks his nose.

The Devil’s Backbone: This is what I wanted Cronos to be. A Del Toro twist on gothic romance and ghost story, Devil’s Backbone is as unsettling as it is charming. The kids in this movie are exceptional actors, and the script sells their childhood so, so well.

The Adventure Zone: Here There Be Gerblins: I didn’t expect too much from the graphic novel of TAZ’s first arc, but it really surprised me. Carey Pietsch’s art is just cartoony enough to bely the adult humor in the series, and the characters have been deftly adapted. The first arc in the podcast suffers a lot from ‘pregen syndrome’, where Taako and Merle weren’t super fleshed out, but the graphic novel rights the ship really well.

Black Girl: At 59 minutes, Black Girl is well worth your time mostly for how angry it’ll make you. Black Girl tells the story of a Senegalese woman who is deceived into becoming a house maid for a rich French woman, and the sheer amount of bullshit she puts up with before losing it makes her a saint in my eyes. I enjoyed this movie a lot, and I’m excited to see more African cinema.

A Hat In Time: I’ve played the shit out of this game and it never gets old. A Hat in Time is as charming as charming gets, and it perfectly recreates the feeling of playing Mario Sunshine for the first time. Only, you know, Hat in Time is fun.

Pony Island: Pony Island is one of those games that’s just a little too short- not because it feels rushed, but because I wished there was more when it ended. It’s a little cheesy in places, and the dialogue is a little slow, but the puzzles are perfectly scaled and the sense of humor is really great.

Styx: Shards of Darkness: This game might be good. I don’t know. The main character’s dialogue was so shitty I only played about 40 minutes of it. Imagine the mechanic in Jak & Daxter where Daxter makes fun of you when you die, but they got the writers from Family Guy really drunk and had them write it and never told them no.

#holly talks #holly plays #the roundup #july 2018

3 notes · View notes

igotmysteriousmessages · 7 years ago

Text

Pokemon AU: RFA+Mint Eye as Pokemon Trainers

Ok,I’m a sucker for Pokemon almost as much as I am for Mystic Messenger so I had to write this AU... I hope you like it (and sorry to the people in my askbox because this took forever to be made so is the only think I’ve worked on this week)

Credits to shootingstar03 on deviantart for the template for the trainer cards

Warning: This is full of spoilers, like everywhere and from every route

RFA Member Yoosung wants to battle

Since he is still unsure of what to do with his life I don’t think he has a preferred type on his team despite him having quite a few normal types.

His team is mostly composed of cute and energetic pokemon (Lillipup, Buneary, Ambipom, Pachirisu) but in case of needing they can still give a good fight.

He caught a Rockruff because it was cute and with time it evolved into Lycanroc a Pokemon that is loyal and protective like Yoosung is to MC in his route.

Similar he caught Goomy because it was cute and looked like a slime (he is a gamer kid after all) and as they trained together it evolved into his most powerful and beloved Pokemon.

Pachirisu besides the reasons already given is very protective of its food and it reminded me of Yoosung and his HBC bag

Lillipup came into his team after Rika’s Herdier died but after Rika dying not too long after he found himself unable to evolve it till he meets MC. Towards the end of his route it becomes a Stoutland.

RFA Member Zen wants to battle

I do know beautiful is not a Pokemon type but a contest attribute, the reason I chose is because I firmly believe Zen is a contest trainer therefore he hasn’t got a main type.

His family runs a gym and he was expected to succeed his brother as gym leader but he loved acting, singing and pretty Pokemon so he ran away to become a contest trainer.

Lurantis and Vivillion are Pokemon that look pretty and elegant so I think they’d fit him well

Munna is a Pokemon that protects the dreams of its trainer with its psychic powers so I chose it because of Zen’s psychic dreams

Arcanine, besides being a beautiful Pokemon this big dog is loyal and protective; Much like Zen.

For Gallade I have no much explanation, his ace is a beautiful knight on white armor (he probably owns the mega-stone too)

When he was a kid he caught a Feebas and kept it since he felt identified because everybody said it was weak and ugly. After running away and start winning contests Feebas beauty stat raised to the point it evolved into Milotic.

RFA Member Jaehee wants to battle

(Confession time: I was very tempted to give her Meloetta because of her love for musicals but I didn’t want to use legendaries so I had to leave it out… maybe in the future I’ll write about RFA and legendary Pokemon)

I hadn’t planned her to have a defined favorite type but as the Pokemon were chosen the flying type became evidently fitting since flying is associated with freedom and her route is about her freeing herself from expectations and finding her happiness.

Throh is the Judo pokemon so it fits her pretty well

Noctowl, owls are known to be smart and this particular one along his pre-evolution is based on clocks as for most her route Jaehee is running against time also is nocturnal and this poor woman never sleeps.

Fletchinder and Altaria are both known for being beautiful and have pretty singing voice which I bet she’d appreciate in her team since she loves Zen’s musicals.

Swanna is partly inspired in the tale of the ugly duckling and it reminded me of Jaehee forcing herself to wear office oufits, short hair and glasses for her job despite her loving long hair and pretty dresses, probably when she met MC she had a ducklett and it evolved with time.

Oricorio Pom-Pom style (Caught by MC) Knowing Jaehee liked musical Pokemon and that this particular one is known for cheering up depressed trainers MC caught one and gave it to her as a gift.

RFA Member Jumin wants to battle

As you might have imagined this man has mostly cat pokemon

Also his team is not very battle orientated since he is a businessman not a fighter and thought his team can hold a pretty good fight he keeps them mostly as company.

This rational man that is also interested on paranormal stuff screams Psychic type. Thought he only has 1 ghost type I think he might be pretty knowledgeable on the type since he is interested on magic.

Meowstic is the only female on his team (is a white female cat inspired on a domestic cat…so, basically Elizabeth the 3rd)

Alolan Meowth they are the pets of wealthy families so probably Jumin got a Meowth from his father who has a Persian.

Alakazam, since they are incredibly intelligent and with amazing psychic powers I bet Jumin wants one on his team…. Similarly grumping has great psychic power too.

Espeon is cute and thought not exactly a cat is pretty close. I have headcanon that MC suggests him to get and Eevee like hers because they are good friends and could help him open up… he wasn’t trying to evolve it, it just happened.

I already said, this man is interested in magic so a witch inspired pokemon like Mismagius is a need on his team.

It wasn’t on purpose but I couldn’t help but mention most of his team is purple and even in shades similar to his hearts.

RFA member Saeyoung wants to battle

Since he is a hacker he has electric pokemon related to electronics like Rotom, Magneton and Vikavolt.

By the way he said hackers were like cockroaches so it seems fitting he has electric bug Pokemon as Joltik and Vikavolt (sadly there is no Pokemon inspired on cockroaches)

Beheeyem is an alien with the ability to rewrite people’s memories which is both very fitting with his personality at the beginning of the story and useful for a secret agent.

Vikavolt is inspired on a bug, a battery and an alien so is no wonder is his ace.

Plusle is not in his team at the beginning of the story though he caught it on his childhood. The reason is because is a symbol of the past he is hiding. As he and MC head to rescue Saeran Plusle becomes an important member of the team.

When they were kids Saeyoung and Saeran found the eggs of Plusle and Minun and decided to raise them; hiding them from their mother who didn’t allow them to have pokemon. When Saeyoung joins the agency he keeps Plusle but can have him on his team because is part of the past he supposedly erased but he always keeps it close because it reminds him of Saeran.

RFA leader Jihyun wants to battle

This man has such a free and creative soul that I don’t think he’d have a main type

I don’t really think I need to explain why Smeargle is his ace; is a painter after all.

Maractus is quite evident too, this man loves his cacti.

Chansey and Audino are both pokemon who main role is to be healers which is what Jihyun wants to do for his friends, heal their pain and keep them safe… also Chansey is related to good luck which Jihyun needs.

I’m going to hell for giving him a Cubone, I know. But Cubone wears it’s mother skull on its head till it evolves into Marowak when is replaced for its own and since one of the biggest traumas Jihyun carries with is his mother dead he’d probably feel very close to this Pokemon.

He adopted Cubone after his mother dead but it didn’t evolve till his 2 year trip after his route.

Braviary is known for protecting its friends without stopping to consider consequences, very similar to Jihyun.

Mint Eye admin Ray wants to battle

He like plants and beautiful/cute stuff so his specialty would be Grass and Fairy

Roselia, of course flower boy’s ace would be inspired on a rose. Also it has a blue rose (unattainable) and a red rose (love)

Mimikyu hides it’s true self because it wants to be loved and make friends, just like Ray.

His savoir has a Florges so he in his admiration for her, he adopts Flabebé (one with a Blue flower) and raises it to become Floette. He dreams that one day his savoir will acknowledge his hard work and loyalty and will grant him a shiny stone so he can evolve Floette into Florges.

Mareep, it cute and cuddly so he probably would like it, also it produces electricity so it becomes helpful in his job as a hacker; especially on the firsts stages of the building of Magenta when he didn’t have permanent access to electricity (Also sheep are associated with sleeping and this boy needs a nap)

I chose Chespin mostly based on the XY series rather than the game itself. Clemont’s Chespin was really cute and loved sweets which I think suits Ray.

Cherubi, based on the chatroom in which him consideres destroying the stronger branch of his plant to let the weak survive because when Cherubi is ready to evolve the smaller cherry dries up; (Also you know he has no respect for the 4th wall, so Cheritz reference)

Mint Eye admin Saeran wants to battle

I like the idea of his specialities being somewhat the opposite of Ray’s. Dark is contrary to Fairy (which symbolizes light) and Poison (associated to death) is quite contrary to Grass (Plants are the base of life) but despite that the reason is because of how dark his personality becomes and poison for the elixir.

His team in this case is composed of pokemon known to look scary and aggressive but that tend to be very protective of themselves or their master (since he tries to prove he is the stronger by being aggressive to MC yet he keep obeying his savoir) like Houndoom, Liepard and Mightyena.

The choice of Type:Null is rather similar but I wanted to expand a little here. Type:Null was created by humans as a weapon and it resulted to be too powerful so it has to be contained by that helmet or it might lose control and go against it’s trainer…. Which is exactly what Rika does to him with the elixir… in a minor point is very aesthetically fitting.

(I was rather reluctant to choose this one since it falls in a grey area between being and not being a legendary but it fitted too well to leave it out)

Toxapex is also similar to the others but rather than taking the offensive this pokemon hides on a hard poisonous shell.

Zweilous two heads are in constant conflict and the one that gets more food gets to be in control of the body which reminds of the relationship between Ray and Saeran during this part of his route.

RFA Member Saeran wants to battle

He said it. He is both Ray and Saeran so he keeps both of his teams aces and since he reached a new stage on his life so do those pokemon.

Roselia evolves through shiny stone. MC gives one to him after escaping Mint Eye since she knew how much he wanted one. But he is now free from Rika’s influence so instead of evolving Floette (which represents he relationship with Rika) he decides to use it on the Pokemon that represents Ray, thus Roselia becomes Roserade.

Type:Null on the other hand evolves through friendship stopping it’s agresive behavior when it meets a partner it fully trust therefore no longer needing the helmet. So basically when Saeran decides to leave Mint Eye and open his heart to love and friendship Type:Null evolves into Silvally

Skiploom, I kind of cheated here because this is based on something we learn about Saeran on the secret endings rather than on his route but I think it stills applies to him. Skiploom is based on a flower and a bulb and likes to float through the wind similar to how Saeran likes to be able to see the sky.

Lillygant, he caught this one the night on the cabin when he leaves to pick the flowers. Lillygant produces a relaxing smell, gets along with other pokemon pretty easily, is very beautiful and loyal so when he found one he immediately thought of MC and decided to add it to his team.

Swirlix, sweet candy pokemon which reminds of cotton candy and ice cream is perfect for this guy (I know vanillite family is literally ice-cream but somehow I feel swirlix fits Saeran better)

Minun; the same as with Saeyoung. He kept minun with him all time after Saeyoung disappeared but after joining Mint Eye he kept it on its pokeball because the memory of his brother’s betrayal was too painful, yet he didn’t have the heart to get rid of it. When he starts working with the intelligence unit to find Saeyoung Minun becomes part of his team.

Mint Eye Leader Rika wants to battle

When she was in RFA she was a Fairy type trainer because she wanted to be good and didn’t want anybody to notice the darkness within her but when she embraces her demons she becomes more fond of Dark type (even though there is only 1 dark type pokemon on his team)

Vespiquen, this pokemon is the queen of the hive which is the role the savoir plays at Mint Eye.

Solrock, I don’t need to explain this…you all saw that coming.

Shiinotic, it produces powerful spores that Rika uses to make the elixir.

Florges (Yellow Flower) this is based on the chatroom with V on Ray route in which he talks about the daffodil on his garden, Florges absorbs energy from the surrounding plants.

Absol, they are believed to be a bad omen and bring disgrace which is pretty much how Rika lived as a child so it became her closest friend from the day she caught it when she was a child. When she started going out with V she hide it because she didn’t want him to reject her but when she discovers V sees nothing wrong with her Absol it becomes a permanent member of her team

Herdier (based on Sally) died on battle. It was a very traumatic experience for Rika from which she never got over so the spot on her team was left forever empty.

39 notes · View notes

hermanwatts · 5 years ago

Text

Swords & Dark Magic

Swords & Dark Magic (Eos/Harper Collins, 2010). Edited by Jonathan Strahan and Lou Anders.

This was a book that I read over eight years ago and came across a review while looking for an old file. This was a sword-and-sorcery fiction anthology of original fiction from a mainstream publisher. I really enjoyed Andrew Offutt’s Swords Against Darkness and Page & Reinhardt’s Heroic Fantasy back in the day and was hoping this would be the start of a new era.

The first warning sign was the cover. The cover painting for the trade paperback edition is just horrible. I have seen small press books that looked way better. The second warning was “The New Sword and Sorcery” phrase under the title. Whenever something is called “new,” watch out.

The introduction is entitled “Check Your Dark Lord at the Door,” which will infuriate some Tolkien fans. The editors think that sword-and-sorcery is smaller scale than high fantasy. I could argue against that citing Hour of the Dragon as an example. There is a very fast mini-history of the sub-genre where Karl Edward Wagner is not mentioned while Andre Norton and Marion Zimmer Bradley are.

“Steven Erikson” has written humongous doorstop fantasy novels that I have not read. I don’t like never ending series and I generally don’t like novels that go over the 100,000 word mark. This is the first Erickson that I have read. “Goats of Glory” has a small group of soldiers wandering into a village off the beaten track. Glenn Cook’s “Black Company” series has had its influence and impact. I would describe Cook and also this Erikson story as “military fantasy” more than “sword and sorcery.” Just like if you read enough science fiction, you can subtly differentiate between space opera and military science fiction, military fantasy has split off and become a separate animal from sword and sorcery. I would present that we now have a new sub-genre that could be called “military fantasy” that is unique and different enough from sword and sorcery to warrant its own designation. Some of Erikson’s soldiers are women. I have a problem with this. Destroy our modern world and women are going to be back to what they did before the industrial revolution. “Erikson” is supposedly has a background in archaeology and anthropology, but he presents very up to date correct gender attitudes. Characters have names such as Snotty, Dullbreath, and Swillman. Here is some typical Erikson prose: “The place stank of pig shit and the flies buzzed thick as black smoke.”

The soldiers are lured to spend the night in an abandoned fortress. Turns out, the fortress is infested with demons. A great idea but–less would have been more. The characters wipe out hundreds of demons in the fighting. The horror effect is markedly diminished. I think a more suspenseful story could have been written.

Glen Cook has been a very influential writer for about the past 25 years. It all started with the story “Raker” in the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction (August 1982), where he introduced the Black Company. Cook expanded “Raker” into The Black Company, the story of a motley group of mercenaries amidst a huge sorcerous war in a fantasy world. It is no coincidence that Cook served in a Marine Recon unit. Perhaps we should call this “jarhead fantasy.” Cook’s prose for this series is very stripped down with little in the way of adjectives being used. He reminds me of the way that “Paul Cain” attempted to take the hard-boiled crime story to sparse extreme in the mid-1930s. The Black Company books are rather dialogue driven for my tastes.

“Tides Elba” is an episode wherein the Black Company has to track down a descendent of the Dominator who about to mate with another of his descendents. The resulting child would have been a vessel into which the Dominator could project his soul. The story is disturbing with the revelation at the end while getting there is a chore.

Cook is in many ways the godfather for many of the authors for this anthology.

The inclusion of Gene Wolfe does raise the level of attention for this book. Wolfe is considered a writer’s writer. Wolfe never jumped to my A list. I read his Book of the New Sun years back and my response was I had read this before by Clark Ashton Smith and Jack Vance. I did like Wolfe’s story in Cross Plains Universe though. “Bloodsport” is in the first person. The story starts out relating the participation in something called The Game, which is sort of like real-life chess with people. After one game, the town is attacked by “Hunas” who are described just like the historical Huns. Valorius, the narrating knight, and a female pawn escape, and organize a band of fugitives into a small resistance force. That section ends abruptly, Valorius and Lurn the pawn travel to the mountains where the Game originated. An enchanted mountain meadow is found where Lurn is armed and crowned as a queen. Valorius then kills her in a fight and that is how the story ends.

James Enge is a relative newcomer. He got his start with a series in Black Gate magazine about Morlock Ambrosius the Maker. Enge has said Roger Zelazny and Jack Vance were big influences I also see Michael Moorcock in the mix. There is a spear with a demon trapped within it. Enge’s prose on one hand attempts the urbanity of Fritz Leiber or Jack Vance but juxtaposed is anachronistic sounding dialogue such as “You killed my bartender!” The character shows a Jack Vance influence, the plot coupons are from Michael Moorcock. There is a certain vibe of older sword and sorcery to give a sense of déjà vu all over again.

C. J. Cherryh’s “A Wizard in Wiscezan” uses the same world that she used for “A Thief in Korianth” way back in 1981 for Flashing Swords #5. Cherryh is an old pro going back 35 years with D.A.W. Books. She has produced a competent if not overly engrossing tale of infiltration into the keep and assassination of a usurper and his wizard by means of an illusionist.

“A Rich Full Week” by K. J. Parker is written in first person and is a good case of what I think is so wrong with fantasy of the past 20 years. The story is dialogue driven. With a few minor changes, the story could be set in suburbia. The dialogue is mostly inane, takes up space, and does little to propel the story. Read some Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler if you are going to write a first person story with mostly dialogue.

Garth Nix is an Australian writer of young adult novels whom I am unfamiliar with. “A Suitable Present For a Sorcerous Puppet” is a story that has an interesting idea if not high octane in execution. It is clever with a recuperating knight accidentally coming across an ancient curse.

To put things in context, a book containing a Michael Moorcock story in 2010 would be like having a new C. L. Moore Jirel story in 1982. Moorcock’s “Red Pearls” is the keystone story or rather novella for this book. Moorcock brings nothing particularly new in this Elric story but then again, there has been little really new about Elric since the original ten stories in Science Fantasy 1961-1964. There is more multi-dimensional hokum but I have to say this is one of the better Elric stories of the past 20+ years.

I can remember about six years ago, John Pelan of Midnight House Press telling me of some horror writers who wanted to write sword and sorcery. I remember Tim Lebbon’s name from that conversation. Lebbon has been writing some novels with a fantasy setting. “The Deification of Dal Bamore” is in the same world as Echo City Falls (2010). To set the tone, here is some Lebbon prose:

“Bamore is hanging upside down from the ceiling. He is streaked with blood and feces. Beneath him, there is a large bowl collecting all fluids that leak from him.”

There is torture and then a prolonged street fight while on the way for a crucifixion. Something I have noted, Echo City is not described at all. I have no idea what it looks like as there was no description given.

Robert Silverberg has written some of my favorite space opera and adventure science fiction. He is on the fictionmags yahoo group and I like the guy. He has a story “Dark Times At the Midnight Market” set on his planet of Majipoor. It is a “cute” story that elicits a chuckle. The story is nothing major, but competently done and in contrast in tone to most of the other stories in this book.

Sooner or later, a serial killer sword and sorcery story was bound to happen. Greg Keyes’ “The Undefiled” has Fool Wolf possessed by a spirit or godlet who makes him do very bad things. The same idea in Robert Bloch’s classic “Enoch.” Keyes’ has a habit of not explaining things very well in portions of the story. He also jumps a scene before it is finished using innuendo for the reader to fill in. The problem is the innuendo is rather nebulous.

I have been reading Michael Shea since Nifft the Lean came out in the early 80s. He is one of those writers that you must concentrate in order to get everything. You will miss something if you don’t. “Hew the Tintmaster” is starts out in the world of Nifft. Bront the Inexorable teams up with Hew the Tintmaster (i.e. house painter) on a quest for a wizard who is paying handsomely. They are sent to Jack Vance’s Dying Earth and then meet Cugel the Clever. Remember that Shea got his start with A Quest for Simbalis featuring Cugel. In some ways, Bront and Hew are the most conventional sword and sorcery characters up to now in this book. They are also the most heroic in their own way.

I was waiting for a Harry Potter sword and sorcery story to happen and Scott Lynch’s “In the Stacks” is that story. If you like Harry Potter, you will like this story. Set in a library with a wizard pupil who decides to go mega maniacal.

Tanith Lee has been in Swords Against Darkness, Heroic Fantasy, and the paperback Weird Tales. A friend of mine thinks of her as closest thing to a modern Clark Ashton Smith. “Two Lions, A Witch, And the War-Robe” is typical Tanith Lee. The story is very fantastic as is often typical with Lee. This story would not be out of place in one of her old collections such as The Gorgon.

Caitlin R. Kiernan is another horror writer now moving into sword and sorcery. “The Sea Troll’s Daughter” is probably the worst story in this anthology. The story begins after the action is over. The dialogue is top-notch:

“Why, you ungrateful, two-faced gaggle of sheep-fuckers.”

A sword woman amazon kills a sea-troll terrorizing the town. The story starts with her after the fight. The narrative is about drinking and lesbian seduction of a bar-maid.

Bill Willingham’s “Thieves of Daring” reads as sort of homage to Fritz Leiber. It is an entertaining enough vignette. He keeps up the suspense and the reader interested. I hope Willingham keeps it up and writes longer works of fiction.

Joe Abercrombie has been getting a fair amount of press. I have known people who like him, know others who don’t like his fiction at all. This is my first introduction. “The Fool Jobs” has a sort of Dirty Dozen meets Deliverance with swords plot. The characters are all unlikable, which is probably the point. The writing is matter of fact with a little description to paint a depressing landscape. Get Abercrombie a thesaurus as “fucking” seems to be every tenth word he uses.

“Cause it’s my fucking job to fucking tell you to the fucking thing is why, Yon fucking Cumber,” or “Use your cock as a spoon.”

Somebody has a potty mouth. I will say that Abercrombie can write an action scene. I just can’t say reading him is the most pleasurable experience.

So there you have it, the first sword and sorcery anthology in a while. The last anthology I can think of is Swords Against the Millennium from the turn of the century.

First impression– disappointment. My own name for the book is Swords and Excrement. If this is the new sword and sorcery, I want no part of it. I can remember reading Page & Reinhardt’s Heroic Fantasy and the enjoyment and entertainment I got during a rather bad time in my life. I actually dreaded reading this book each night before too long. I couldn’t wait to be done.

The editors have no background in sword and sorcery that I know of. Lou Anders seems to have the most background in Star Trek and Star Wars books and magazines. Jonathan Strahan has edited (new) space opera anthologies. They might have ideas brought in from other sub-genres.

You can divide the book into three categories– the D.A.W. Fantasy Reader (Shea, Cherryh, Lee, and Moorcock), uninteresting writing (Nix) and the scatological.

If you are going to write sword and sorcery, you must engage in landscaping. Landscaping is a term used in conjunction to Zane Gray’s description of the West. The author must do some background painting with words. Sword and sorcery is not a modern day thriller with swords. One of my gripes with Glenn Cook’s Black Company series is the utter lack of any detail. There are too many stories where you have no idea of regarding the architecture, clothing or costumes, weapons etc. Describe the kind of swords used for example. You don’t have to do an info dump, but some detail goes a long way. My own opinion is dialogue driven stories don’t work in sword and sorcery. This isn’t a T.V. show.

The better sword and sorcery writers who came out of the 1970s got their start in the small press. They started out writing short stories, then novelettes. A few then made the jump to mass market paperbacks that were generally 80,000 words long. Now it is backwards, the writers of the past ten to twenty years start out writing 700 page novels for seemingly never ending series. They have no concept of economy. You can stretch out a novel with lots of dialogue. In a 15,000 word story, you have to move it along and talking is not the way to do it.

Readers in the past have been attracted to the glitter, pageantry, and Technicolor of sword and sorcery. Replacing it with mud, feces, and urine is not a good business plan for growing the genre. I was telling John C. Hocking (Conan and the Emerald Lotus) about this anthology. He thinks that maybe our lives are so easy now that getting covered in excrement is about as horrible as some writers can imagine. As one friend of mine said, just because someone takes a dump does not mean it has to be shown. There was not one conventional heroic story in this book.

If you are going to write about a barbarian serial killer, have the gonadal fortitude to channel a little Brett Easton Ellis and show a serial killer in action.

Horror writers– sword and sorcery is not horror. Changing the scene from cars to horses and from guns to swords does not make for automatically a good sword and sorcery story. The gothic element is key in classic sword and sorcery over horror. There is a difference.

When I wrote this review in 2012, there was unease out there with by friends of mine. The increasing scatological obsession was one issue. Nihilism and lack of heroism is another. Literary moral relativism and realism creeping in from the mainstream as a source of contamination. At the time, I was not sure if these were separate issues or all facets of the same thing. I now see it as all part of a cultural change that has accelerated the past ten or so years. I bought Swords & Dark Magic at the local Barnes & Noble store and then felt burned when a few months later it was offered at Edward R. Hamilton online for about 1/6 of the original price. Now I wait.

Swords & Dark Magic published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/

0 notes

graphic-witchfinders · 7 years ago

Text

An Ocular-Centrist’s Representation of the Seventeenth Century

The overall visual style of my graphic novel is intended to be reminiscent of the woodcuts of the seventeenth century. However, my initial inspiration for the style of drawing that I used in my graphic novel came when our witchcraft seminar visited the Prints and Drawings Room of the National Gallery of Canada to view woodcuts and engravings by Albrecht Dürer. Even though Dürer's woodcuts are very much situated in sixteenth-century Germany, I found myself more naturally able to replicate some of the techniques he uses to create intricately detailed monochromatic prints. I also found that the illustrations collected by Ernst and Johanna Lehner in Devils, Demons, and Witchcraft was another valuable resource that helped me to create a style with an underlying tone that could easily shift from light to dark. It was important that the visual component of my graphic novel added to the historical tone and atmosphere of the narrative. However, because the majority of the narrative is understood through the visuals, I wanted the style to have some foundation within the visual culture of the time period. I address the evolution of the visual style of my graphic novel further in my project blog, but ultimately my intention was to emulate the style of visual art that would have been most accessible in the popular culture of that time period. In the following section, I will address the decision-making and creative process for the components that encapsulate the graphic narrative of this project; character design, mise en scene, dramaturgy and panel layout and the dialogue.

The success of my graphic novel is strongly tied to the representation of the historical actors within the narrative. I was initially intrigued by the idea of taking a more artistic and stylized approach to the character designs -- exaggerated and expressive features, somewhat removed from the more realistic designs which I ultimately settled. However, because the reader is dropped directly into a character-driven narrative I needed to be able to quickly establish who each character was and their role in the narrative. Audiences are more easily able to establish connections to characters that are expressive and have realistic proportions; the more realistic and human a character appears the more relatable they become. I go into a fair amount of detail about the fundamentals of drawing characters and how using basic shapes as the foundation of character design can be used to determine a character’s role within a narrative on my blog. However, I am now going to further touch on the nuances and details of character design, which I incorporated into my narrative to address the archetypes of heroes and villains.

On the surface, Matthew Hopkins and John Stearne are both classic heroic characters with youthful and handsome faces that are drawn to attract the reader and appear trustworthy. I had the fortune of being able to refer to a period woodcut print of Matthew Hopkins to identify key features that I would be able to incorporate into his design. I started out drawing both Hopkins and Stearne with body types that were typical of male heroes, muscular and trim, but I quickly changed this so that there was more diversity within the characters’ appearances making them more easy to differentiate and identify. Initially, this was only reflective in their hair colour and styles; because Hopkins is depicted with dark hair and a Van Dyke beard, therefore, I drew Stearne with blonde hair and because I knew he was most likely older than Hopkins, I gave him a full beard and few wrinkles around the eyes. Since the first version of their designs, Stearne has changed very little in appearance, I would hazard a guess that this is because I felt the most confident in my portrayal of him. Whereas Hopkins has gone through many changes. The first iteration of Hopkins that I drew depicted him without facial hair, as I was unsure whether this would significantly age his appearance, but he was so reminiscent of a Disney prince that I immediately began to practice drawing facial hair. Eventually, I decided to incorporate some hint of the illness which eventually killed Hopkins, tuberculosis, because I felt it added a sense of desperation to his actions - that perhaps from 1645 to 1647 he was attempting to give aid to those he could before dying. To hint at this illness without making him appear too sickly or unattractive, I gave him a more slender figure and sharper cheekbones. The advantage of giving both men sharp features; Hopkin’s jawline and cheekbones and Stearne’s nose and brow ridge, was that at times their appearance could walk the line between hero and villain. Unlike Gaule, whose weathered face, protruding nose and chin, and small narrow eyes are all intended to signal to the audience that he villainous character. Gaule and Hopkins are intentionally designed so that even their appearance is in opposition with one another, while still holding some minute similarities. Where Hopkins’s hair is dark, sleek and straight, Gaule’s is lighter, frizzy and curled; where Hopkins has a youthful face and delicately shaped nose, Gaule’s face is heavy with wrinkles and he has a bulbous nose; where Hopkins is clad in lighter, tailored clothing, Gaule wears long dark robes. Both figures have strong chins and defined jawlines and smaller frames compared to John Stearne or Benjamin Wyne. Margaret Moore’s character design has similar nuances built into it to suggest and elicit certain responses. I did not want to draw a buxom beauty or a haggard crone, I wanted Moore to appear very plain and almost remarkable. I wanted her to appear to be middle-aged and to appear as though she had lived a hard and tiring life. To suggest this I decided that she needed to have a small, delicately built frame. Despite being intent on Moore having a plain appearance, I eventually decided that I wanted there to be some suggestion that when she was young she had been quite beautiful. I did this by angling and widening her eyes, as well as giving her a fuller lip. However, because everything was in black and white very subtle changes to her facial features resulted in a very different character. In giving Margaret Moore full lips, I was treading into the territory of glamour that I wanted to avoid and so Moore’s mouth became thin and less remarkable.

As I’ve mentioned before, the purpose of these portrayals is for the reader to feel conflicted about their interpretation of the characters via their appearance when confronted with their actions later in the narrative. Each character in the narrative has moments where their role as hero or villain is suddenly reversed. I included subtle indicators into the character designs to highlight this duality or to help emphasize specific moments. For example, Matthew Hopkins is the only character in the graphic novel seen wearing a cape, a symbol firmly rooted in heroism. Another example would be Margaret Moore’s nose and wart, which are intended to echo those of the Wicked Witch of West. The hopes I had doing this was to indicate to the reader the range of ways actors can be represented and to unsettle the very “black and white” contemporary attitude towards anything.

I had anticipated that I would delve into a great deal of research on animation, and a little bit of psychology as well, when I was working on the character design stage of my project. However, I did not anticipate how much additional historical research I would need to create mise-en-scène that contributed to my narrative as well as being historically accurate. Constructing the historical setting within each panel required research on the architecture of the sixteenth and seventeenth century, as well as research on decorative arts, interiors of tavern and inns, horse bridles, and horse anatomy. As is the case when attempting to find references for the life of the lower classes, I turned to Dutch paintings of working life, specifically those by Adriaen van Ostade such as: Peasants in an Interior, 1661; An Alchemist, 1661; The Peasant Settling His Debt, 1644. The work of Dutch painters in the seventeenth century was invaluable to helping me create historically appropriate settings and costumes for this graphic novel. However, I also drew inspiration from set designs and costuming in historical dramas such as BBC’s The Musketeers and Channel 4’s The Devil’s Whore, both of which are set in the sixteenth century.

0 notes