Hi there. I'm sure you, astute reader, have noticed that this blog isn't very active anymore. That's because I don't quite have the inspiration for it. Not this way, not this particular format. There are great projects waiting in the wings, not least of which the Thawing Kingdom Remaster book, the Permafrost Edition, but they won't live here.
Remember the ORKWORLD? The last post to my blog? Well, that one comes after this one. So why don't you go and find it in a bit. But first, I think this final class post is a good actual closer to this period of my work. Yes, closer. There probably won't be any new posts on here for a good while, if ever. I think it's good to move things along, to change when it feels right. So this is that. But don't worry, you can chase me along and keep your eyes on Thawing Kingdom and whatever things come after. I'll do my best to make them hard to miss.
Now then, let's do it one more time.
You chose this, once. That was a long time ago. A time when the glamour lived, and the people around you could still imagine.
You were the best. Show-stopping. Invincible, like a dream. They would all call out your name when you appeared, with the stars of the night at your back, and you'd say "Ho there, evildoer!" and those words would carry you. Lift you up in flight and let you pirouette on a chariot of blue fire between the twinkling constellations. Command comets with a laugh. Banish demons with a kiss. Take a despairing soul by the hand and drift with them across the singing cosmos, brush away their fear and put them back to bed with, if nothing else, hope.
But now, that power is gone.
Now your face smiles down at you from posters and broadway lights, but it's not your face anymore. You turn up your collar in the snow. You walk around the dark town, looking at the lit windows. You sit on benches. That's what you do now.
Was it just too big? The rough, red world? Have the nights lost their secrets and were you snuffed out with them? Is there no place for you anymore? For a dream?
|Art by Pablo Hurtado de Mendoza|
Starting Equipment: A thick scarf and trenchcoat. An empty bottle, or a pack of cigarettes. A newspaper full of foreboding and depressing headlines.Warm and comforting hands. A single star, twinkling faintly.
Skills: 1) Busker 2) Composer 3) Magician 4) Opera Singer 5) Street sweeper 6) Friend
Act One: Silhouette in the Snow, Star Slivers, 2 Miracles
Act Two: Dream a little Dream of Me, The Nightmare King, 1 Miracle
Act Three: Clair de Lune, 2 Miracles
Grand Encore: One More Show
Silhouette in the Snow
|Art by James O'Brien|
|Art by Thomas Blackshear|
Dream a Little Dream of Me
|Art by Nikolai Litvinenko|
The Nightmare King
|Art by Jeremy Wilson|
- ...dozens of black-clad, strapped and masked creatures with man-faces. They are the shades of soldiers, jetting wraiths filling up their kevlar skins. The army of destruction. The spike-headed chain-whipping bastards, sorry only for themselves. The police.
- ...the Hand. It is immaterial: a titanic shadow that slowly glides along buildings. It could grab you between its clawed thumb and index finger. You've never seen what it's attached to. Maybe to Him, or maybe to something older, silent, and merciless.
- ...the Pale Three. Wrapped in bandages, wearing broken white armours and fatigues, they sit on skeletal horses. Black blood seeps from any tiny piece of them that their cloth wrappings reveal. You don't know who they are, but they can be found in classical paintings of war. In all of them.
- ...the ORKUS.
- ...Marcus, from the rough block that'll be demolished next year. You don't understand where he got that gun, or who let him keep it. You can't hurt him. You can't hurt people. That's exactly what He's trying to get you to do. To become a part of His world, where the only solution is destruction.
- ...nobody. Complete, deafening silence. Your doubt. His Excalibur.
Claire de Lune
|Art by Leo Brynielsson|
One More Show
|Art by Joseph Eichstaedt|