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Description
This is an illustration to Chapter One: Burn [link] of Crucible from the ever-so-wonderful Sister-to-the-Queen [link] . In other words, this is a six-hours-project. Wow.
My usual notes:
1. This is fairly compressed, since getting all that pain from the Chapter in one picture is bordering on the impossible. i'Ve tried everything.
2. Let's start with the worst part: in the middle, there is an ever more psychotic Caphriel, just after having reached into the fire, cradling and caressing the walking stick, neglecting the fact that he's getting ever newer burn marks from it. Cradling and caressing it as if it was... someone from the past.
(Every. Single. Feather. Colored. Individually. I love doing that. But i shouldn't do that. Highly unhealthy.)
3. Since he's supposed to be kneeling still at the bonfire, we're looking at him from and through the bonfire. So those weird, somewhat flower-like things in the foreground are flames. Why? Because if there is a theme to this picture, then it is delicacy. Delicate pain, mind balancing on the edge of the shaft, fragile soul, once so perfect creature.
Plus, i once saw some film, in which everything became overly organized, harmonious, symmetric, etc. in the presence of angels. Cobwebs had spirals and impossible shapes. And things like that.
So, this fire half-turned into a kind of livid, lethal flower in a broken angel's presence.
4. The floor's just supposed to support the symmetry and focus.
5. The background is mostly the bookshop... since the Chapter says he's practically living (only) there. But it doesn't really have many books now... i know it should have, but i can't draw the "lack of Zirah", just represent it with the almost-perfect lack of his beloved books. The few that there are have titles, too, which should be read together... And then you get a sentence from the end of the Chapter, which gives me the shivers every damn time i read it: "His own, merciful Hell." .
6. On the other hand, there are other things on the shelves, foreshadowing a long-long period of suffering. The usual sunglasses. The gloves, the (somewhat snake-like) scarf... means to hide the never-healed burns Caphriel is suffering right there.
7. Since the title is Merciful Hell, and the theme is inevitably Caphriel's unimaginable sorrow and suffering, i took the liberty to add something from another book... Namely, Dante's Inferno. So, the big grey arch is the gate to his own personal earthly Hell, which even has the inscription from Inferno:
"Per me si va ne la città dolente,
per me si va ne l'etterno dolore,
per me si va tra la perduta gente.
Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore:
fecemi la divina podestate,
la somma sapienza e 'l primo amore.
Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create
se non etterne, e io etterno duro.
Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'entrate"
(Italian, if the internet hasn't tricked me
)
And, out of an old habit, i used the Enochian alphabet from here [link] . (As i feel, it joins in the line of the elements of fragility-delicacy too.)
8. One final note: since my pencil first touched that paper, up until now, and still, continuosly, I'm begging for Caphriel's forgiveness, as i feel really wretched, evil twisted, mean, etc. for even drawing such a thing (again). Please, please, forgive me, dear angel. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
That said, "enjoy"!
My usual notes:
1. This is fairly compressed, since getting all that pain from the Chapter in one picture is bordering on the impossible. i'Ve tried everything.
2. Let's start with the worst part: in the middle, there is an ever more psychotic Caphriel, just after having reached into the fire, cradling and caressing the walking stick, neglecting the fact that he's getting ever newer burn marks from it. Cradling and caressing it as if it was... someone from the past.
(Every. Single. Feather. Colored. Individually. I love doing that. But i shouldn't do that. Highly unhealthy.)
3. Since he's supposed to be kneeling still at the bonfire, we're looking at him from and through the bonfire. So those weird, somewhat flower-like things in the foreground are flames. Why? Because if there is a theme to this picture, then it is delicacy. Delicate pain, mind balancing on the edge of the shaft, fragile soul, once so perfect creature.
Plus, i once saw some film, in which everything became overly organized, harmonious, symmetric, etc. in the presence of angels. Cobwebs had spirals and impossible shapes. And things like that.
So, this fire half-turned into a kind of livid, lethal flower in a broken angel's presence.
4. The floor's just supposed to support the symmetry and focus.
5. The background is mostly the bookshop... since the Chapter says he's practically living (only) there. But it doesn't really have many books now... i know it should have, but i can't draw the "lack of Zirah", just represent it with the almost-perfect lack of his beloved books. The few that there are have titles, too, which should be read together... And then you get a sentence from the end of the Chapter, which gives me the shivers every damn time i read it: "His own, merciful Hell." .
6. On the other hand, there are other things on the shelves, foreshadowing a long-long period of suffering. The usual sunglasses. The gloves, the (somewhat snake-like) scarf... means to hide the never-healed burns Caphriel is suffering right there.
7. Since the title is Merciful Hell, and the theme is inevitably Caphriel's unimaginable sorrow and suffering, i took the liberty to add something from another book... Namely, Dante's Inferno. So, the big grey arch is the gate to his own personal earthly Hell, which even has the inscription from Inferno:
"Per me si va ne la città dolente,
per me si va ne l'etterno dolore,
per me si va tra la perduta gente.
Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore:
fecemi la divina podestate,
la somma sapienza e 'l primo amore.
Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create
se non etterne, e io etterno duro.
Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'entrate"
(Italian, if the internet hasn't tricked me
)And, out of an old habit, i used the Enochian alphabet from here [link] . (As i feel, it joins in the line of the elements of fragility-delicacy too.)
8. One final note: since my pencil first touched that paper, up until now, and still, continuosly, I'm begging for Caphriel's forgiveness, as i feel really wretched, evil twisted, mean, etc. for even drawing such a thing (again). Please, please, forgive me, dear angel. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
That said, "enjoy"!
Image size
3507x2481px 2.24 MB
© 2012 - 2024 Lunissa
Comments7
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...
It hurts.
It hurts.
It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it - *clamps her teeth together*
Oh God, this picture... This picture is agony. It is agony itself.
Blessed Mother, where to begin.
The wings. Beautiful and delicate, but dead. They still work, blood still runs through them, but they're dead. There's nothing left for them to fly for.
It's not just the hands - you did draw them - it's the wrists, the lower arms, I don't even want to know what else. This is what it's like to burn.
No wonder his eyes are closed. As long as he doesn't see, he can fool himself a bit more, just a fraction, into believing that he's holding something more than a piece of wood. As if he'd ever be able to fool himself that way. It's hopeless, and he knows it.
Those bookshelves are not bookshelves. The shape puts me in mind of an old-fashioned bread oven. It's hot in there.
Still gives you the shivers, eh? Me too.
What's behind him is his future, literally, the sunglasses, the scarf, the gloves, and his past is in his hands. No, not his past. I am mistaken. It's his past, his future, and his endless present. He'll never move beyond this moment, not really. Until. But here, he doesn't know that yet, now does he. No.
He's broken. Broken and torn to shreds, long before the End. But then, we all know that this is where it truly began. Just look at his hair. How long has he been kneeling there like this, how many hours?
Yes, those are the Italian words. I recognise them. I take it you know what they mean? Of course you do. I think that, at this point, the central three lines would make Caphriel scream with laughter.
And now you are mistaken. That fire is not fire, and that floor is not a floor. The instant I saw them, this is what I thought of. [link] Read carefully. It's so ironic and unironic at the same time that it's unbearable, but not as unbearable as what is in this picture. Oh God. Let me put it this way. Are you familiar with the phrase 'Om mani padme hum'?
I have to go... hide... now... yeah... *dies*
P.S. About your final note. I honestly don't think that, now that the Union has been accomplished, Caphriel would really care about this. Sure, it would spark some impossibly painful memories, but all he'd have to do was look beside him and there'd be Aziraphale, right there. In those arms, there's no room for pain. (Besides, how likely is it that Aziraphale would actually let him see this?) If I were you, I'd be more worried about the talking-to Aziraphale would give you if he saw this. I'll leave that to your fertile imagination.
It hurts.
It hurts.
It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it - *clamps her teeth together*
Oh God, this picture... This picture is agony. It is agony itself.
Blessed Mother, where to begin.
The wings. Beautiful and delicate, but dead. They still work, blood still runs through them, but they're dead. There's nothing left for them to fly for.
It's not just the hands - you did draw them - it's the wrists, the lower arms, I don't even want to know what else. This is what it's like to burn.
No wonder his eyes are closed. As long as he doesn't see, he can fool himself a bit more, just a fraction, into believing that he's holding something more than a piece of wood. As if he'd ever be able to fool himself that way. It's hopeless, and he knows it.
Those bookshelves are not bookshelves. The shape puts me in mind of an old-fashioned bread oven. It's hot in there.
Still gives you the shivers, eh? Me too.
What's behind him is his future, literally, the sunglasses, the scarf, the gloves, and his past is in his hands. No, not his past. I am mistaken. It's his past, his future, and his endless present. He'll never move beyond this moment, not really. Until. But here, he doesn't know that yet, now does he. No.
He's broken. Broken and torn to shreds, long before the End. But then, we all know that this is where it truly began. Just look at his hair. How long has he been kneeling there like this, how many hours?
Yes, those are the Italian words. I recognise them. I take it you know what they mean? Of course you do. I think that, at this point, the central three lines would make Caphriel scream with laughter.
And now you are mistaken. That fire is not fire, and that floor is not a floor. The instant I saw them, this is what I thought of. [link] Read carefully. It's so ironic and unironic at the same time that it's unbearable, but not as unbearable as what is in this picture. Oh God. Let me put it this way. Are you familiar with the phrase 'Om mani padme hum'?
I have to go... hide... now... yeah... *dies*
P.S. About your final note. I honestly don't think that, now that the Union has been accomplished, Caphriel would really care about this. Sure, it would spark some impossibly painful memories, but all he'd have to do was look beside him and there'd be Aziraphale, right there. In those arms, there's no room for pain. (Besides, how likely is it that Aziraphale would actually let him see this?) If I were you, I'd be more worried about the talking-to Aziraphale would give you if he saw this. I'll leave that to your fertile imagination.