Finally took time to redesign the RIVAL BUTLER of Battle Maid Chronicles. I realized how crap I am at drawing guys.
Click for bigger version. Ended up kinda crappy
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v235/Wings_Of_Gray/EriPalette.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v235/Wings_Of_Gray/EriMoreColours.jpg
Erika Rosenthal Colour Schemes.
Thus ends the month of Lolita Fashion.
Did a Punk Lolita. Somehow I’m not too pleased with it, stripes may be significantly easier to draw than tartan check pattern but isn’t a substitute. But well, tartan check is pretty much impossible to draw….
Oh well whatever. Time to come up with ideas for the whole YEAR OF THE TIGER thing.
Ero Ele Guro Loli. EEGL? Maybe its a new fashion.
Click on image for full size.
Anyway this is basically the evolution of the Grotesque Lolita thing I did back then. Its a lot less broken and bloodied, so its not too much of a Guro Loli. Unless I colour in some bloodstains I guess. To keep the whole broken feel, I only used one long stocking and glove and made it asymmetrical. I gave the other limbs just a band around the arm and thigh, and a short glove for the hand to kinda keep a balance. With those limbs bare, I could stick bandages on for that broken sorta look. Also made the skirt tattered and kept the eyepatch.
It has kinda departed from the drugged crazed killer look to a broken slave image. Departed from the goth/kuro lolita look and kinda trespassed into elegant and erotic territory. Either way, I think I did a rather good job and this also doubles as an experimentation with wavy hair.
I’ll probably shade it and try to do a background sometime. Shading it might bring some kurololi feel back into it. Whether that is a good thing or not remains to be seen.
Really need to get back to Jewel of the Stars….
Jewel of the Stars Chapter 1 Part 2 REWRITE
Wasn’t too sure of my previous attempt, so I worked on a 2nd version.
…
“Good evening to you too young lady. Do you need something?” the man had replied to her greeting. He looked middle age, with a weathered looking face. She had stood there, stunned for a moment. Her mind worked as fast as possible to churn out a possible reply. She regretted the absurdities that spilled out of her mouth that moment.
“Uhm, I was being chased by wild beasts and I’ve lost my map and and I’ve been wandering around for days an uh-”
The man had stared at her for a moment, before breaking out in laughter. She stood there, stunned by his sudden outburst. The bundle on the opposite side of the campfire began to stir at the sudden noise. Suddenly there was a ferocious shriek.
“Oh sorry, did I wake you up?” said the man, unperturbed. The girl looked at the bundle of sheets fearfully, cautiously taking a step back. At a moment’s notice, a figure sprung upright from within. A woman had risen on the opposite side of the flame with her hair in a slithering mass of tangles. Distorted shadows danced across her face as the campfire flickered in the night. She let out a massive yawn and rubbed her eyes before looking around with a blank look on her face. After surveying her surroundings to her satisfaction, she cast a venomous look straight at the man.
“Is it morning yet?” croaked the woman. She was clearly unamused that her night’s sleep had been interrupted.
“Nope.” replied the man. His face was the very visage of serenity.
“Clearly not you oaf. Are we being under attack?” Contrastingly, the woman looked like a wild beast with a malicious glint in her eyes.
“Not at all.” said the man craning his neck to look behind himself. “Unless those bandits are really good at hiding!”
“Has our horse run away?” croaked the woman while rubbing her eyes. She let out a yawn and her spine arched backwards as she stretched. The girl winced as she heard bones crack.
The horse had already awoken from the earlier commotion and now laid on the grass lazily after finding nothing worth noting.
“It loves me too much to, don’t you now?” declared the man with a grin on his face, while turning to face the horse. The horse was more interested in poking its nose into the grass to pay the man’s question any attention.
“Is there something on my face?” inquired the woman.
“Oh the radiant beauty, it is far too bright for me to look at,” said the man mockingly, shielding his face with his hands.
The pointless exchange of questions paused for a moment as the woman shot a vicious glare at the man, like a bird of prey ready to strike. The pause allowed the girl to think for a moment. She took the opportunity to think about how to act when the conversation would inevitably turn towards her. What if they ask me where I’m from? What if they ask my name? What if they ask how old I am? A long chain of what ifs began to entwine her mind, with no answer to be found.
“Have the trees come to life?” continued the woman, escalating the pointlessness to a new level.
“It’d be interesting if they did.” The man continued to answer as he had.
The girl started to observe the scenery before her, seeing if she can derive a name to use. She started listing objects that were passing by. Grass, tree, dirt, cloud-
“THEN WHY HAVE YOU WOKEN ME UP?!!” screamed the woman in a fit of hysteria.
The girl jumped at the abrupt exclamation. Her ears rang as her heart thumped like it could burst out of her ribcage any moment. The cry had reverberated through her head and destroyed any thoughts she had.
“You should have seen the look on her face. You see-” the man had started to explain before being interrupted by yet another question.
“Just who is that?” The girl’s eyes met with the woman’s.
“As I was saying-”
“Oh, she is a priestess isn’t she?”
More questions started to circulate in the girl’s mind. Am I a priestess? What does a priestess even do? Why is she saying I am a priestess? As the odd couple looked her up and down, she herself decided to examine herself and found that she was dressed in what she recognized as the ceremonial garb of a priestess.
“Oh-ho, I didn’t notice,” remarked the man in his usual calm demeanor.
The woman suddenly sprung up and grasped the girl’s hands tightly. Time seemed to have frozen as the woman looked deep into the girl’s eyes with a desperate look upon her face.
“You must help us!”
The girl, unsure of how to react had simply nodded.
“Then we must leave now.” The woman had gotten up, her face lit up with enthusiasm.
Gone was the wild beast within. The man looked up at her as if to say something, but then decided against it and resigned himself to her decision. He put out the fire by kicking dirt into it. After that, he proceeded to fold the sheets up into a neat square. He shook his head and sighed as he walked over and tossed the sheets onto the cart.
“Come, let’s go” said the woman. She held the girl from behind by the shoulders and drove her towards the cart. “I’ll explain on the way.”
The girl simply complied to the woman’s urging, having being drawn into her pace. She clambered onto the cart, wondering just she gotten herself into. The man had already readied the horse and was sitting in the front next to the woman. As the horse started off to a gentle trot, the cart creaked itself into motion.
“My name is Haruka, and this is my stupid husband Yoshikazu,” began the woman with a simple introduction.
“This stupid husband just traded some cheap furs for enough grain to last the village a week.” chimed in her husband.
“This swindling man is a trader. But that is not important.” Haruka was annoyed at her husband’s interruption.
“You may call this swindling man Kazu,” he said, taking his wife’s insults in good humour. “I am a trader.”
The girl panicked at the introductions and racked her brain in an attempt to come up with a name. A multitude of names formed in her mind, but the conversation moved on before she could decide on a suitable candidate.
“We were coming back after trading for some grain-” continued Yoshikazu but he was immediately interrupted.
“I’m the one telling the story!” interjected his wife after sticking an elbow into his side. “Anyway our village has been plagued by a demonic weed. It started appearing last spring and invaded our fields. With it around, we can no longer grow any crops. We managed to get by the year with food stored from previous harvests as well as by foraging and hunting in the forests. But now it is spring again and we cannot plant our crops now.” She stopped for a moment to catch her breath. The girl felt somewhat glad that the topic on her name was avoided.
“If we cannot plant anything now, we won’t be able to last the upcoming winter. We tried everything, even burning the fields down. They just grow back the next day,” continued her husband.
“Such an accursed weed cannot be normal. It must be the work of some demon. We have tried praying to our deity, the great Taifu-no-kami but to no avail,” said Haruka in a gloomy voice.
“This great deity probably doesn’t even exist. Or if it does, it doesn’t care.” scoffed her husband, who was elbowed yet again in the ribs.
Haruka continued on, ignoring her husband. “The priestess of the great Taifu-no-kami died five years ago, leaving no successor. Perhaps that is why our prayers have not been answered yet. Maybe with your powers, it will finally hear us.”
The girl began to understand why her aid was wanted. Haruka wanted a priestess to invoke their deity and cause a miracle to happen. Except she wasn’t a priestess and just happened to be dressed like one.
“If it was so great, it would be able to hear our prayers without anybody special,” muttered Yoshikazu under his breath.
“Maybe it is because of your insolence that our prayers haven’t been answered.” his wife rebuked. “Do you not remember the story where our great Taifu-no-kami blew away a locust swarm?”
“And it all happened a hundred years ago. Bah, those were just bed time stories our parents used to tell us. We have never seen such miracles before. Damn thing probably doesn’t even exist, all pure superstition,” retorted the man.
The girl began to organize her thoughts. For now at least, she was a priestess. Someone who was an authority on the spiritual, believed to be able to call upon miracles and blessings by invoking the power of a deity. She knew she had to somehow invoke their deity to solve their weed problem.
This troubled her for she was not really a priestess and hence lacked the knowledge to perform any sort of ritual. Additionally each different deity probably had rituals unique to them, so a random priestess wouldn’t know of them anyway.
“Sorry for dragging you off like that, nothing can stop my wife once she starts going off like that. Don’t mind it so much, we won’t blame you if you can’t help us,” said Yoshikazu to the girl, after noticing a troubled look on her face.
“Have some faith!” said his wife, sticking an elbow into his side.
“You were lost weren’t you? I’ll draw you a map of the area once we get to the village.”
“That would be helpful, thank you very much.” said the girl.
She thought of coming up with an excuse, or coming out into the open about now being a priestess. But then she would have to explain why she was wandering around dressed as one. She also felt like she had to live up to their expectations due to the desperate pleading of Haruka. And she wanted to do something for the free ride and map she was getting.
After some thought, she settled on just trying anything came to mind at that moment. As long as it looked ritualistic, it should be fine right? She then toyed with the possibility that she was actually a priestess with powers of some sort. After all, she did wake up in a shrine. There was also her mysterious eye which indicated that she was not a normal human being. She started to get hopeful, thinking that it could possibly work out in the end.
The girl’s chain of hopeful thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the cart ran over a few rocks, jolting her back into reality. She only then noticed the fireball peeking over the far off mountains, casting a orange hue over the skies and the clouds being ignited with a pink light. The sun had begun to rise as she was lost in thought. It had began to cast light over the mountains and on throughout the land, banishing the night away.
Her appreciation of the morning sunrise came to a halt as the cart slowed to a stop. Yoshikazu then spoke, “We’re here. Just in time for sunrise.”
The girl then got up and peered over the other side of the cart. A large landscape was spread out before her, like a canvas mottled with an earthy hue and a viridian tincture. Simple houses of wood and straw stood upon the earth which was carpeted with a haze of green. There were two rows of houses situated on both sides of a great tree, while large green fields stretched out behind. She then noticed that besides the tree that stood in the center of the village, the only other life were the villagers and that one type of grass that now covered the entire village.
“Looks like it spread while we were gone,” remarked the Yoshikazu as he got off the cart. He examined the surroundings with a dejected look on his face. The horse stood around idly for a moment before lowering its head to take a munches out of the weed infestation. “Go on, eat them all up for us.”
“We have a priestess now! Surely our deity will save us this time,” said Haruka as she got off the cart.
“I say we pack up and move. Just look at this mess!” replied Yoshikazu dismissing his wife’s hopeful outlook.
As the girl got off the cart, a group of villagers approached led by an elderly man with a cane. He steadily walked forward with a stooped posture, the lines of wrinkles and the length of his beard telling of his age and wisdom. The girl then began to panic, not over the task she faced but the fact that she probably would have to introduce herself. She regretted not having thought about the matter more carefully during the journey. Suddenly a massive gust of wind presented itself, almost toppling the girl over. And with it came a whisper in an authoritative voice.
“Finally. You have come.”
—-
Now for some omake sketches. Rare fanart! Of Patchouli Knowledge from the Touhou series as a plump schoolgirl. Kinda sketchy.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v235/Wings_Of_Gray/patchouli-running.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v235/Wings_Of_Gray/patchcard.jpg
Hopefully I’ll get part 3 done sometime soon.
Currently working on rewriting Part 2 of Jewel of the Stars. I more or less have a clear idea of what to write for Part 3 and Part 4, so I’ll worry about those later. Only problem is getting to my minimum word limit!
At any rate, more drawings.
Experimented with giving Erika some new boots. A taller frilly buckle variant and just a normal buckle variant. Will either stick with the buckle variant or go back to plain old boots.
I was challenged to a lolita design showdown, just a friendly exchange of art with some artist friends. I decided to do a ‘guro-loli’, a lolita style thats meant to be morbid, bloody and grotesque and that sort of broken/bloodied feel.
A rough attempt at that. Not too fond of her clothes, so I’ll try redoing it. I’ll keep the bandages, eyepatch and scars though. Those safety pins aren’t meant to just keep her bandages together, they hook through under her skin. The bonesaw she wields has a vise for a grip. So she basically vises the saw onto her fingers, breaking them in the process. That is one weapon that ain’t leaving her hand anytime soon! So she’s some kind of masochistic sadist or sadistic masochist, however you want to look at it. Might come up with a backstory for her… but I’ll leave that for later.
Click for larger image! Scene from the previous part. I was like, man how do I draw foliage? Then googled and danbooru-ed and kinda just winged it.
Managed to finish part 2 somehow. Not entirely confident, ran into a lot of snags and there was the whole not being used to writing conversations and stuff. Hopefully it turned out decent anyway.
…..
She soon found herself on the move again. The cart gently rocked up and down with an uneven tempo, as the beast of burden trotted along. A cool and gentle breeze blew crisp air across her face as they traveled out of the forest and through grassy plains. The girl rested her head on the sacks of grain as she began to recall the events of the night before.
“Good evening to you too young lady. Do you need something?” the man had replied to her greeting. He looked middle age, with a weathered looking face. She had stood there, stunned for a moment. Her mind worked as fast as possible to churn out a possible reply. She regretted the absurdities that spilled out of her mouth that moment.
“Uhm, I was being chased by wild beasts and I’ve lost my map and and I’ve been wandering around for days an uh-”
The man had stared at her for a moment, before breaking out in laughter. She stood there, stunned by his sudden outburst. The bundle on the opposite side of the campfire began to stir at the sudden noise. A figure sprang upright from within the bundle and let out a ferocious shriek.
“Oh sorry, did I wake you up?” said the man calmly, unperturbed. A woman had risen on the opposite side of the flame with her hair in a slithering mass of tangles. Distorted shadows danced across her face as the campfire flickered in the night. She let out a massive yawn and rubbed her eyes before looking around with a blank look on her face. After surveying her surroundings to her satisfaction, she cast a venomous look straight at the man.
“Is it morning yet?” croaked the woman. She was clearly unamused that her night’s sleep had been interrupted.
“Nope.” replied the man. His face was the very visage of serenity.
“Clearly not you oaf. Are we being under attack?”
“Not at all.”
“Has our horse run away?”
“It loves me too much to.”
“Is there something on my face?”
The girl stood there at a loss. The couple bantered on, the woman’s questions starting to become more and more ridiculous.
“Have the trees come to life?”
“It’d be interesting if they did.”
She took the opportunity to think about how to act when the conversation would inevitably turn towards her. What if they ask me where I’m from? What if they ask my name? What if they ask how old I am? A long chain of what ifs began to entwine her mind, with no answer to be found. Her train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a loud-
“THEN WHY HAVE YOU WOKEN ME UP?!!” screamed the woman in a fit of hysteria.
The girl jumped at the abrupt exclamation. Her ears rang as her heart thumped like it was a rabbit hopping away from a fox. The cry had reverberated through her head and destroyed any thoughts she had.
“You see-” the man had started to explain before being interrupted by yet another question.
“Just who is that?”
“As I was saying-”
“Oh, she is a priestess isn’t she?”
More questions started to circulate in the girl’s mind. Am I a priestess? What does a priestess even do? Why is she saying I am a priestess? The girl then realized that she was indeed dressed in the ceremonial garb of what many would consider that of a priestess. She then found that the odd couple were looking her up and down as if she was a once in a lifetime phenomenon.
“Indeed she must be one,” declared the man in his usual calm demeanor.
The woman suddenly sprung up and grasped the girl’s hands tightly. Time seemed to have frozen as the woman looked deep into the girl’s eyes with a desperate look upon her face.
“You must help us!” pleaded the woman.
The girl had then learned that the dysfunctional couple were a trader and his wife. They were returning to their home village after trading furs for rice, which explained the cloth sacks that currently filled his cart. Their village was currently being plagued by a weed that had invaded their fields and devastated their crops. Various methods had been attempted to rid themselves of the plague, such as plowing the weeds over and even burning the fields to no avail. They had hence turned towards the supernatural for aid, but their desperate prayers towards the village deity had remained unanswered. The woman had since calmed down significantly, although she still spoke at an amazing pace.
“Don’t worry about her, she is always loud when she wakes up in the morning,” the man had explained.
“I am not always loud. It was because you woke me up in the middle of the night! What were you doing laughing like that anyway?” snapped his wife.
“The priestess suddenly appeared with such a funny look on her face! I couldn’t help it!”
Those words stung the girl. She unconsciously raised her hands to her face to check if something was wrong with it. But before she could find the words of protest to that statement, the conversation had already moved on.
The trader’s wife told tales of how the local priestess had called upon their deity to invoke rain in times of drought and other miraculous deeds, including calling the wind to drive away a swarm of locusts. Unfortunately the priestess had passed away many years ago, leaving no successor. She was sure that the reason that their prayers had not been answered was because they have not been performing the correct rituals. Her husband however, dismissed her tales.
“Bah, those were just bed time stories our parents used to tell us. We have never seen such miracles before. If it were so great, it would have gotten rid of those weeds already. Damn thing probably doesn’t even exist, all pure superstition,” retorted the man.
“Maybe it is because of your insolence that our prayers haven’t been answered.” his wife rebuked.
They had managed to survive the winter with food they had already stocked up on, but their granaries were running empty. The villagers had turned to hunting and foraging in nearby forests to keep themselves going. With the furs obtained from hunting, they could trade with neighbouring villages for grain. However without a harvest this year, the village would not last when winter comes again.
“Will you help us? You might be our last hope!” the trader’s wife had begged. She had sincerely thought that the girl was their salvation.
“Uhm, I’ll try my best,” the girl had agreed, being drawn into their pace.
And with that, she was on the road again. The trader’s wife had insisted that they make haste and return to the village immediately.
“Don’t mind it so much, we won’t blame you if you can’t help us,” said the trader to the girl, after noticing a troubled look on her face.
“Have some faith!” said his wife, sticking an elbow into his side.
“We can always just eat the weeds you know. We tried digging them up and found some potato like roots.”
“Do you have any idea how bad they taste? They are probably poisonous!”
“Better than starving. We could always move elsewhere. As a trader, I could still make a living traveling around.”
“Oh, so you don’t care about the other villagers? And the fields our parents worked so hard on? You cold heartless-”
As the couple resumed their ceaseless banter about the effectiveness of prayer and the existence of the supernatural, the girl had some time to think about her next move.
She began to organize her thoughts. For now at least, she was a priestess. As she began to think deeper, information surfaced in her head about the role of a priestess. She recognized it as someone who was an authority on the spiritual, one who could communicate with the gods and could perform a variety of rituals such as exorcism or calling upon the dead amongst various other spiritual deeds. With that information at hand, she deduced that she would probably be asked to invoke the village deity through a ritual to solve their problems.
This troubled her for she was not really a priestess and hence lacked the knowledge to perform any sort of ritual. Additionally each different deity probably had rituals unique to them, so a random priestess wouldn’t know of them anyway.
Should she come up with an excuse? Or say that she wasn’t a priestess? But then she would have to explain why she was wandering around dressed as one. She also felt like she had to live up to their expectations due to the desperate pleading of the trader’s wife.
After some thought, she settled on just trying anything came to mind at that moment. As long as it looked ritualistic, it should be fine right? She can just apologize and say she tried her best, come up with some excuse and then leave for the next village. For now, she just wanted a ride to some civilization and a place to rest and think about things.
Setting aside her upcoming trials, she started to analyze herself. Despite having no memories concerning herself, she had knowledge. She could read, dress herself and had common knowledge of the world around her. Having realized that, she wondered what else she knew. Perhaps she was a priestess after all, she did wake up in a shrine and manage to dress herself in a complicated ceremonial attire all by herself. If it was, it could be a chance to regain some memories by helping the trader’s village out. There was a slim chance that she might somehow remember how to perform a ritual of some sort and regain her old memories in the process.
The girl’s chain of hopeful thoughts were suddenly interrupted as the cart ran over a few rocks, jolting her back into reality. She only then noticed the fireball peeking over the far off mountains, casting a orange hue over the skies and the clouds being ignited with a pink light. The sun had began to rise as she was lost in thought. It had began to cast light over the mountains and on throughout the land, banishing the night away.
Her appreciation of the morning sunrise came to a halt as the cart slowed to a stop. The trader then spoke, “We’re here. Just in time for morning.”
The girl then got up and peered over the other side of the cart. A large landscape was spread out before her, like a canvas mottled with an earthy hue and a viridian tincture. Simple houses of wood and straw stood upon the earth which was carpeted with a haze of green. There were two rows of houses situated on both sides of a great tree, while large green fields stretched out behind. She then noticed that besides the tree that stood in the center of the village, the only other life were the villagers and that one type of grass that now covered the entire village.
“Looks like it spread while we were gone,” remarked the trader as he got off the cart. He examined the surroundings with a dejected look on his face. The horse stood around idly for a moment before lowering its head to take a munches out of the weed infestation. “Go on, eat them all up for us. If only there were a hundred of you.”
“We have a priestess now! Surely our deity will save us this time,” said his wife as she got off the cart.
“I say we pack up and move. Just look at this mess!” replied the man, dismissing his wife’s hopeful outlook.
As the girl got off the cart, a group of villagers approached led by an elderly man with a cane. He steadily walked forward with a stooped posture, the lines of wrinkles and the length of his beard telling of his age and wisdom. The girl then began to panic, not over the task she faced but the fact that she probably would have to introduce herself. She had not yet thought of a name. Before she could even begin thinking of a name, yet another interruption presented itself like there was an army of them ready to derail the poor girl’s thoughts at every moment’s turn. This interruption presented itself as a massive gust of wind, almost toppling the girl over. And with it came a whisper in an authoritative voice.
“Finally. You have come.”
…..
Supernatural stuff happens next time!
The picture didn’t turn out as well as I would have liked. Oh well, guess I’ll just practice more. Not much to say besides that I wrote a follow up to the earlier passage. Here it goes.
….
As she walked down the dark and lonely path, she started to ponder about the glowing orb she had for an eye. What exactly was it? What does it do? How did it get there? Can it even see?
Can it even see?
She then paused for a moment and started to examine her own vision. Something was odd, her vision was completely normal. As if the mask obscuring her right eye wasn’t there. She then removed the mask and noticed nothing different about her vision.
Odd.
She then raised the mask back up to obscure her glowing eye. For a brief moment, there was a noticeable darkness on the right field of her vision which faded almost immediately. Curious, she lowered her mask and tried obscuring that same eye with her palm with the same results. She then tried closing her eyelids. The darkness however did not fade this time.
Interesting.
She repeated the process on her other normal eye. However her vision would be obscured on that side, indicating that her magical vision was only limited to that oddity she had glowing in her right eye socket. As she trod down the dirt path, she started to experiment with her magical eye. She first plucked a leaf off a nearby tree and slowly drew it closer and closer to her eye. The leaf would grow bigger as it closed in, and once it blanketed her eye in darkness it would suddenly blink away from vision. She then tried using her sleeves, the wooden plaque that she picked up earlier and even stopped to try out her sandal.
Her brief moment of fun was interrupted by a sudden rustle of leaves in a nearby bush. She immediately donned her mask and clumsily slipped her sandal back on. The sound had stopped, leaving her to wonder just exactly what it was or where the sound came from. But before her mind began to go beyond those simple thoughts, the rustling sound returned. She immediately turned towards to the direction of the sound.
A small triangular head of fur peeked out from a mess of leaves. Its nose twitched for a moment, as if sniffing the air and it turned around to examine its surroundings. Then its gaze caught hers.
She recognized that creature as a fox. It was staring intently into her eyes, as if scrutinizing her face. Her eyes remained locked onto the gaze of the fox as she knelt down and reached out her hand. The fox then switched its focus towards her hand, reaching out to sniff it. She then proceeded to stroke the furry little head, enjoying the touch of the soft and warm fur. The fox closed its eyes and moved its head according to her hand movements, as if to show its delight for the act.
Suddenly the fox perked upright and jumped out of the bush onto her lap. After locking eyes with her one more time, it turned and ran a distance before stopping and looking back at her.
“Do you want me to follow you?”
She felt silly for a moment for trying to talk to a fox. However the fox let out a bark, ran down the path a short distance and turned its gaze back once again. It then barked again, as if to understand her query.
“Oh, it can’t hurt.”
Every time the fox ran too far ahead, it would stop and turn its gaze back towards her. She was thinking that maybe she was just chasing the poor creature, rather than it trying to lead her elsewhere. But its actions were much too obvious, it definitely wanted to bring her somewhere.
Despite having found herself with no memories and possessing a glowing orb for an eye, she was having fun. There was nothing she could do about her current predicament anyway. The idea of having communicated with an animal and it leading her somewhere amused her. She had no real destination in mind anyway, she continued to follow her new found bushy friend. As if it was the first time her life had any real direction, she followed after the fox enthusiastically. Her sense of time was lost as she passed through trees and winding dirt roads. Her journey with the fox had started with a fast walk, but later broke out into a run as the fox increased its speed. It eventually jumped off the road into the trees.
She ran after it. The fox had disappeared from sight. Suddenly new emotions started to emerge within her. Fear and insecurity presented themselves as she no longer had a guide. She did find it strange that those emotions did not surface earlier however. Never the less she pushed onwards deeper into the trees, looking for her companion. Eventually, a warm glow appeared in her eyes.
She found herself in a clearing, with no sign of the fox. A man sat near a campfire. A bundle lay on the opposite side of the flame which she assumed was a sleeping person. Behind them was a cart carrying a number of cloth sacks. A brown horse lay asleep in front of the cart, its massive chest swelling and deflating as it breathed.
Anxious about how to approach, she stood there while examining the scene. The man seemed to be absorbed in his act of poking the fire with a stick. After some thought, she realized that this was her chance of getting to some civilization. Thus she composed herself and walked towards the campfire.
“Good Evening.”
…
I’m not too sure how to structure all this. Maybe a chapter will contain several parts. These two passages shall form part 1. Maybe 4 or 5 parts can form a chapter. I’ll see how it goes as I continue.
The star of Kuchikami no Sake, reborn as Hoshi-no-Tamaki. Hoshi-chan, Tama-chan… call her whatever! Recycled some elements from the previous Kumiho design. That said, title change to Jewel of the Stars, the English translation of the protagonist’s name.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v235/Wings_Of_Gray/hoshi-no-tamaki01cs.jpg
Rough colours filled in version. That is basically the colour scheme.
I combined the Shinto priest/male imperial court clothing with the traditional miko outfit. Result is this additional vest that is worn over the miko outfit. Got the mask back from my old Kumiho design and added a flower to the hair to balance the mask. The little plant growing from the Gohei shows that she has magical powers of some sort!
I looked up how Japanese named worked way back in the day, and it seemed it kinda went like that. Surname-no-Name. Name-of-SomeClan. So its Tamaki of the Hoshi clan or something like that. It is also a bit of a pun I guess. Hoshi no Tama, or star balls are said to belong to foxes in Japanese folklore. They are said to be glowing with fox fire and to contain the soul of the fox. She wears a fox mask which is obviously concealing something. Wee.
Short story time!
……
The first thing she saw was darkness. She lay there for a while, dazed and confused as her eyes slowly adjusted themselves before images re emerged from the black. At first, they were just blotches of dark colours, but eventually they slowly began to shape themselves into a recognizable scene.
She was looking up at a wooden ceiling. Water was dripping through the wet planks all around her. Her senses were gradually returning to her one by one. The single drops of water played out a calm melody into her ears. The cold danced all over her skin. The damp aroma of rotting wood flooded into her nostrils.
As if moving her body for the first time, she slowly moved her fingers one by one. Clenching her fists, and then letting go. Soon she moved onto the rest of her joints, bending her knees and elbows before getting into an upright position and stretching.
A run-down altar lay before her. There was an unmistakable form of a small house-like object, amongst a clutter of broken wood. It was impossible to tell what exactly was worshiped at the place anymore. As she stood up and examined the place, she found that she was in a shrine. The place was a massive tatter of broken wet wood, as if a heavy wave had come crashing through the place. Before she even began to wonder what she was doing in such a place, a gust of wind blew in and sent a signal through her mind. She needed some clothes.
Not really caring about her current condition, she clumsily moved out of the shrine. It was a wet mess outside. The other shrine buildings were all missing their doors and a mess of broken wood was scattered everywhere. The full moon shone brightly overhead, illuminating the tragic scene. The girl paused a moment to look at the bright pearl in the sky, before finding her reflection in a puddle. An unfamiliar face peered back at her, filled with confusion. And in the left eye socket of the face in the puddle sat a glass orb with a faint glow emanating from within. But before she could register the fact that the strange face belonged to her, another gust of wind danced around her wet body and hurried her onwards.
She found herself within another damp wooden building, looking around. Without too much fumbling about, she managed to find a wooden chest. Upon opening it, she discovers a bundle of wet fabric. Not really thinking about whether she would be better off naked or with bundles of wet clothes on top of her, empties the chest onto the damp floor below. After sorting out the various pieces of the outfit, she manages to identify it as some form of ceremonial robe. The fabric seemed to find their way into her hands with great familiarity, and she managed to put on the entire outfit with ease.
Suddenly remembering the strange sight that was her face, she ran back out into the courtyard, and stared down the face in the puddle. A glowing orb lay in the place of what should have been a left eye. She raised her hand to her right eye in response, and the reflection raised its left to mirror the response. Her mind began to start running again and her thoughts spun themselves into words.
Who am I?
She started surveying her surroundings, looking for an answer. However the only response was the ringing of silence.
Where am I?
The wet and run down ruins of a shrine once again returned a golden silence as an answer.
It then dawned upon her that her mind was empty. She had no idea who she was or what she was or where she was. Nothing. Her mind started to grasp for words, searching deep for any answer.
Words.
She discovered that she knew words. She could identify the place as a shrine, the face in the puddle as a reflection and the warm dry clothes she wore as a form of ceremonial dress. She then paused for a moment, and then noticed that something was odd.
Warmth.
Her clothes were warm and dry, and bore no wet stains from when they sat within that damp chest. She had no reason why, but that wasn’t the only odd occurrence of the day. She had a glowing ball for an eye and just woke up in a mess of a shrine, not knowing her own identity.
She began to search in the ruins for an answer. But there was none to be found within the battered and wet ruins. A lot of water had definitely gone through the shrine, and nothing remained beyond a basic wooden structure. Although there was no answer, she did find some wet socks and sandals, amongst a pile of other junk she assembled on the veranda.
Her eyes examined the various items she had collected.
A small wooden plaque with a series of black scrawl all over it. She managed to pick out a few characters which she recognized as ‘happy’, ‘luck’ and ‘together’. She recognized it as some form of charm, where you write out your wishes and hang them out onto the shrine where they would supposedly come true.
A mask. She recognized the empty face staring back at her as that of a fox. The shrine probably sold this sort of thing during a festival.
A battered circular wooden frame. Scraps of wet paper still clinging onto it indicated that it used to be a lantern.
A few pairs of dirty wet socks and some straw sandals were laid around. She decided that her feet felt empty and put them on. Miraculously, the socks soon bleached themselves into a pure white and became warm and dry. She found herself looking down at them for a moment, wondering whether the clothes in this place were magical. Of perhaps it was her? It occurred to her that it wouldn’t be odd if she somehow did it, she did have a glowing ball for an eye after all.
She stared down the rest of the items, as if awaiting for them to tell her everything she wanted to know. But as items are, they do not speak. Thus she came to the conclusion that there was nothing she could do, standing around at this place and decided to leave. It did occur to her that her glowing eye was a rather strange sight and might scare off anybody who could at least tell her where she was. She then picked up the fox mask and used it to cover her eye. Deciding that the wooden plaque looked a bit lonely, she stuck it into her sash. The broken wooden frame of a lantern however, was of no use to her and was abandoned.
A stone pathway led deep into the forest, with no indication of where it was going. She took her time, traversing the pathway while giving the shrine and the moon a few more looks as if to make sure they wouldn’t tell her anything. Soon the shrine was out of sight, and the only companions she had left were the moon and the trees along with the tranquillity of silence.
“But no matter,” she thought as she continued walking into the darkness. “Not like I had anything to do anyway. “
Anyway I did a Christmas drawing, although I’m not really satisfied with it. Managed to somehow putz it out before its too late.
As an added bonus, Eri in a negligee HERE.
A funked up attempt at perspective drawing. I tried to keep my points of disappearance on the paper resulting in funky angles.
At any rate, MERRY CHRISTMAS.
All she could hear were the sound of hooves. Wind cut across her face as she sped across the plains, her beast kicking up dirt as it galloped with all its might. She was not alone, her loyal subjects rode all around her as they always have and will from now till their dying day. That is if it comes before victory.
Up ahead, steel warriors drove their mighty steeds which were armoured likewise onward. The sound of hooves battered in unison with the sound of clanking steel. The warriors steadied their arms and held their lances straight, ready to strike through their foes.
As the distance closed between the two sides, she readied her bow and swiftly drew an arrow from her quiver. Her men all followed suit, knowing the process well enough. She stretched her bow as far out as she possibly could and if it wasn’t for the roaring sound of the galloping horses, she would have been able to hear it creak out in pain. Despite the ache that was building up in her arms, her aim was steady. Her target was the metal rider racing towards her, glinting in the afternoon sun. She knew instinctively that it was not yet time to strike, their arrows at this distance would not pierce the tough skins their enemies bore.
Thoughts raced through her mind as the metal rider grow larger and larger within her sight as he closed in. Under that steel skin was a human being, just like her. It was a life that she had to take and that fact made feelings of guilt and uncertainty rise within her heart. But she soon steeled her resolve, and abandoned those feelings. Guilt, uncertainty, remorse, compassion…. they were all unnecessary feelings now. She bore upon her back the weight of an entire nation. As the last surviving member of the Imperial family, it know fell upon her to lead her nation through these times of strife. She had to gather those brave enough to fight, reunite her scattered nation and defeat her enemies, both of her own kin and the intruders. But to do all that, she would first have to kill that steel rider. That one life was inconsequential to the number of lives that now danced on the palm of her hand.
The time was ripe, and her heart beat in unison to the galloping of her steed. She had already done this many times before, and knew just when to release her arrow. There was no need for a signal, and as her arrow slashed through the air towards its target.
He held onto his lance, knowing that in mere seconds that his lance would find its way into the heart of his enemy. But he felt something amiss, there was a sharp pain in his throat. As he looked to his sides, his fellow men were falling off their steeds one by one. He then noticed that an arrow was protruding out of his neck. All strength left him he arched backwards and off his beast, with the last sight he would ever behold being the clear blue sky.
One by one the warriors released their arrows with lethal accuracy and as if guided by the wind, they stitched themselves upon their designated targets. The fletching ensured their flight through the air, and their steel tips allowed them to penetrate the shining skins of the steel riders. Strength left the steel riders as their once firm grips on their lances loosened. The once steady warriors fell limp and dropped off their horses one by one, left behind in the dirt with nothing but starved vultures to mourn them.
The princess automatically slung her bow over her arm, and held onto the reins of her steed. She reflexively maneuvered aside, avoiding the now riderless armoured warhorses as they rode on unaware that they have lost their masters. Her battle group split into two, riding around the steeds of their enemy. Steeds they would later claim as their own once the battle was over. Her men gave a out a roar of victory and they reunited past the steel warhorses. However this was going to be a long and bloody war, and their battle have only yet just begun.
…….
Currently a nameless story, with a nameless princess. A young girl with the responsibility of an entire nation shoved upon her back. She has to lead her nation to victory in a losing war.
Basically there were two nations. A nation that prospered on agriculture, based on feudal/medieval/warring states period/whatever Japan. Then there was a nation situated upon the highlands and thrived by using the metal and stone they could acquire from mines for building and smithing. The two nations met each other and hence began trading their resources and expanded beyond what they could alone. The highlands soon became dependent upon food from the farmlands to sustain their growing population.
The farmlands under various circumstances which I don’t feel like explaining right now soon became unable to provide for the highlands. Negotiations fail, highlanders get pissed and ride off to war… essentially raping the farmlands with their superior armoury.
Basically a samurai vs knights sort of story A realistic sort of war story where armour deflects swords and katanas are kinda useless.I’ll add more drawings and explain things in more depth in a later post.
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