#sphynx in progress | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

narenohate · 1 year ago

Text

the reckless, the wild youth (WIP)

(since eda and raine's backstory is so different in this AU, i'm pondering a comic about the two of them and just how and why it went so wrong) (infodump.... ramble?? ig down there + design notes on how my progress is going with this project)

Seb's design notes: anyways i've been dancing with the idea of making canis caninam's witches more animalistic. because yeah im just having fun at this point. bonus, sphynx / owl beast design. i'm not a big fan of her canon design, and it's not because i think she's scary.

my current inspo for the witch faces is a mix of good ol' na'vi 3d models, deerchip's s work (they're on twitter!!) and olya bossak's anthropomorphic portraits!! i didn't just want them to be elves who purr, tbh... though more and more as i post this i'm kind of hoping to get harrassed off the fandom for my weird ideas and "forced" to make this into an original story.

ramble on story derived from conversation with Bow (idea beta tester, victim of the circumstances of my hyperfixation, beautiful white hetero man who got here by accident). IT'S A ROUGH, UNEDITED DRAFT. PARTS OF IT ARE DIRECTLY FROM A CONVERSATION. IT'S ROUGH. Eda is born to the Clawthorne family - daughter of Gwendolyn, a healer, and Dell, a toy maker who married into her clan as to escape the hardships of living outside the barrier, amidst bestial demons... and probably something else, smart enough to scare him into hiding, though that usually goes unsaid. She is one of a pair of twins, and, for the first fourteen suns, eleven moons and twenty-nine sundowns of their lives they are inseparable.

It's their fifteenth birthday when Dell gives them an old grimmoire that has been in his family for centuries. Some of its words have been altered with the years, rewritten and repaired by generations, their meaning lost - symbols re-drawn from memory with each unfortunate accident.

Lilith partakes in that tradition - having to repair a page of a long-winded wild-spell meant to be cast by a powerful warlock, after she spills some tea on it.

that night, the two set out to camp with a group of their friends -hyacinth, a selk nobleman who, despite his young age, served under belos as his huntsmaid and personal cook, and his apprentice, darius, a prodigy who'd already been branded for a coven, and who'd been personally selected by belos to be a companion for the golden-haired boy who'd earned his favor.

and, of course, trailing slightly behind, raine whispers. their glasses are foggy and they already smell like the alcohol they brought to the party.

nobody leaves the outermost wall to camp these days, of course, so the bunch of them settle in an abandoned park, before doing as teenagers do when provided alcohol, and getting plastered.

at some point, eda, raine and hyacinth get into an argument of some kind - one that results in eda opening the grimmoire she brought along, and going along with the plan she'd nearly abandoned: using her rudimentary knowledge of the old tongue the tome was written in, she makes a circle out of salt around herself, and reads the spell.

its words are all wrong. whatever she summons she angers, and, at first, nothing happens.

then, as she and raine lay together on her hammock the afternoon after the party and the tiny backyard camping "trip", eda falls ill.

it was fever and it was vomiting. then the lining of her stomach, then her gums and her teeth and her tongue. her skin sagged and it was like she was all liquid inside it.

raine slept by her bedside, singing to calm her down whenever she awoke. lilith laid in the old manor's basement, endlessly brewing potion after potion to try and quell the pain that refused to ebb away.

darius and hyacinth did not go to belos - instead they were stopped at the door by the clawthorne patriarch, and with his help, took a griffin out of the city, found an old thing. it called itself queen of bats, and it was made of wood, and it knew dell very well.

the three give her the griffin, and spend four sunsets and three sunrises walking back with their prize - it's a living tether, a wooden owl dell had made as a toy for his daughter when she was very young. filled with the griffin's soul, it was given by its enchantress the mission of tethering its holder.

they arrive to a burning house. darius and dell don't speak of it, but the only time they both see the emperor is when they deliver his selk concubine's mutilated carcass at the throne room, laid at his feet like an offering.

dell lost one eye to his daughter, the other eye and both hands to the emperor.

raine was gone to everyone except the thing that eda had become, a sphynx that spared their life for the price of their song. they land atop a rocky cliffface, a few miles away from the outer border of the bonesborough wall - soon, something finds them.

the owl her father had carved for her followed eda, and raine became sure, at that moment, that she wasn't lost.

lilith and darius compensated for hyacinth's loss, sitting for years at the foot of the throne as the emperor's guards, until belos found it fit to entrust them both to make for him a new selkie servant - they took hyacinth's old heart, a blue stone that ebbed and flowed, and they took the lungs of a dragon, the innards of a maiden, and all the blood they could get from a seal-devil, along with a tiny fragment of bone that had been strapped to hyacinth's old heart.

they spend day and night putting him together - the rough face of clay mixed with blood, the organs gracefully gifted, the bone.

they bury the sculpture. a boy digs himself out of the dirt while they sleep in the temple, curled up together in a mess of ratty old sheets they'd found.

they name him hunter because he was more demon than boy, but had hyacinth's face, and, though something seemed very wrong, he had somehow killed and dragged in a rat to eat by their side during the time they'd spent asleep.

belos allows the name to stay, and grants them both titles and robes of white, and allows them to mary whomever they wish.

lilith secludes herself to a temple and studies every grimmoire she can, and darius takes on apprentice after apprentice, teaching them how to pull the throat strings of a bard out, and how to best slay a sphynx.

hunter looks just like hyacinth, and, despite how strongly he'd imprinted on his makers, they both hate him from just the look in his eyes.

lilith finds the portraits of every other selk concubine, every other golden guard.

it's always hyacinth's face. meanwhile, raine managed to unearth eda - partially.

they bind her to them, and she remembers very little, but she is undeniably herself, and despite the tragedy of her body, or maybe because of it, she seeks to cause chaos. she embraces the life of a wildling, and raine follows in her stead.

a year passes. then two. three, maybe. probably more, considering everything that comes after. what really matters is that, as raine grows more frantic in their search for something that can help her, occasionally coming in contact with the fragmented clawthorne family's matriarch (before finding her treatments too harsh), all in search for a way to stabilize eda's mind and body...

she accepts that fate she was given.

the system of castes and castings and divisions becomes pointless to her, and she eagerly, easily pushes raine to rebellion by her side. the wards around the walls have nothing against her - usually, griffins and dragons don't fly that high.

raine found gwen's attempts to heal her daughter too much - but at some point, more than a decade after the two set out together, a night after raine settles a chain with a golden ring around her massive paw's wrist, they catch wind, through that shared palisman of theirs, that raine's mother has passed.

they leave eda to sleep atop the church, tail around its tower, and enter it to pray.

they meet someone - a who who dances on the edge of being a what - and, in their grief, bear to her their heart, and are offered a deal in return.

all they want in life, for a price, their mind.

eda wakes up, a moon later, transformed, and with every memory made vague, erased except for vague outlines.

naked but for a wedding ring around her neck, in a dark, low chunk of the city, with the body of a beast, she's seen as exotic enough to work the night for a couple years, as she catches up on a life she lost, and takes the name of a harpy, not knowing she's a clawthorne.

… clawthorne health clinic seems so familiar of a name, though. she jots down their contacts. attends every speech given by darius deammonne, head of the carnomantis force, and often borrows from the library books on forbidden magic written or translated by one lilith clawthorne.

it's not familiar.

she feels like it should be, though. so she digs into it all - never takes the name of clawthorne, but as her social standing falls and she teeters ever closer to living outside the walls, the people around her take to calling her the owl-lady.

she eventually takes to stealing from old homes - the abandoned sort, full of hobs and rats and hexes she can easily bypass, with magic as strong (as well-trained, despite the lack of any memory of schooling) as hers.

there's a farm-house, though, mostly burnt, long ago vacated, that feels very familiar when she enters. she tears up despite not remembering her, when she recognizes her twin's face beside her own in a portrait. in the rubble of a bedroom, a large woven hammock still has an old violin sitting broken on top of its torn fabric.

inside its case, the thing she knows she gave up her memories - or maybe something more - for, sits waiting and patient.

... a key to the human realm. she knows a lot about it, and remembers an unbound fascination.

(her one visit goes very wrong, of course - but she can spy through her palisman's little eye, so it's worth it. it's all worth it.)

meanwhile, raine wakes up, married to a woman whose face is foggy to them, with three apprentices who don't know their name but promise they've been there under them for weeks.

whomever wiped their mind didn't bother to take the human-styled wedding ring off their finger.

194 notes · View notes

dez7re · 23 days ago

Text

drew some different designs for (humanoid) cat tango because i was unhappy with the first i did :P

full ver + the other sketches + my thoughts under cut

don't look too closely i doodled these on a piece of spare paper

i think only the first design really has legs (heh... get it? ... because i drew legs? :D)

anyway! when i drew these i actually started off with the fully cat head tango and he got progressively more human! i think the most humanoid tango is more cat-like in nature to make up for his general "lack" of cat attributes. the more cat-like attributes easily get overlooked by some as a general fire spirit/elemental thing because the cat part isn't very obvious in his humanoid form. he has cat-like fangs + resting :3 face + the paw pads on his hands and feet.

i'd like to imagine that his cat-like attributes aren't very known at first, so when the hermits first saw a little sphynx cat with its head on fire, they just thought it was a pet of tango's instead of him himself!

of course this mostly human/regular tango humanoid form came from the fact im not well versed in drawing digitigrade legs or animals in general :P

#tangotek #tangotek fanart #hermitcraft #my art

24 notes · View notes

the8thsphynx · 19 days ago

Text

Latest batches of WIPs while I settle into my new place!

#sphynx in progress #my art

3 notes · View notes

silverinkbottle · 1 year ago

Note

hi! hello! your velvette fic was literally amazing, i read it like at least 5 times haha! the way you write is,, wow.

anywho, i wanna request a rosie fic if that’s alright!! with a reader who’s hellborn and finds a lot of excuses to visit pride ring/cannibal town (totally not just to see rosie) bonus if reader’s a hellhound! i just really loved the way you wrote sphynx reader with velvette, animal themed demons have a soft spot in my heart ❤️ another bonus, the two are incredibly flirty with each other

thanks for your time!

A:N: Hello Anon!!! Thank you so much for the sweet request, I hope you enjoy!!

Summary: Being a Courier of Hell has it's perks; benefits, travel and sometimes the occasional yearning friendship

Warnings: Violence, Cannibalism

Flowers and Other Things

Rosie X GN!Hellhound!Reader

Word Count:3.2K

The scent of rotting meat permeated the air like a thick perfume as you let out the quietest of excited yips. It finally bloomed after months of waiting and watching as you leaned closer to the cream-colored petals of the giant orchid. The inner depths speckled with crimson as the plant seemed to shudder at your closer inspection as if wanting to welcome you inside. It was just as you suspected another carnivorous plant for the books as you hastily scribbled the observation in your notebook. However, it wouldn’t thrive in Hell with it’s slow maturity phase, it would need to be crossbred with more via-

“Taking a little break, my little Bichon?”

The gentle address startled you from your thoughts as you sheepishly smiled embarrassed at being caught from slacking off your duties. Goods didn’t transport themselves after all in the Seven Rings of Hell. It was a dangerous job, but someone had to do it as you tucked away the small book into your pant’s pocket. Straightening your cap, you clicked your heels together in a quiet greeting as Rosie giggled in amusement.

“Apologies, mam. It’s just that-”

“Oh my stars. It bloomed overnight, I see.” Rosie’s words cut over your own as she clapped her hands together in excitement, grabbing you by the waist to turn you back around to admire the flower. You could feel your heart leap into your throat at the gentle touch as Rosie cooed over the flower’s progress and vibrant shade.

“No wonder you wandered into the garden, Bichon. It’s lovely!” Rosie hummed as you quietly nodded your head in agreement. It’s how your unlikely friendship started afterall. Several months ago, picking up a mail order from Cannibal Town, it was impossible to resist the urge to wander about trying to track the unique scent of the Overlord’s garden. A lush bloom of nature and greenery within the Pride Ring that could rival the hanging gardens of Gluttony. Diligently tended by the lady herself as if were her own children.

“But how did you manage to figure it out, mam. Last time it looked so..sad” You asked as Rosie’s smile brightened flashing sharp pointed teeth.

“All it took was a little bit of positivity, my Bichon. Well, B positive. Seems the soil was a bit too dry for our delicate specimen here.” Rosie explained as the heel of her shoe dug into the brownish dirt. The small impact provoked the faintest puddle of crimson that rapidly retreated back into the earth. The bodies of Sinners had more uses than food in Cannibal Town.

“Now, come with me. I need to give you something.” Rosie insisted as she grabbed you by your paw without hesitation. Once more your heart did that stupid flip flop sensation as you tried to ignore the funny sensation, but even that didn’t stop your tail from giving the smallest of wags.

“Oh now, don’t get anxious. You’ll like this even more than the flower.” Rosie tutted as she mistook your excitement for anxiety. Still, it was a shame as greenery was exchanged for the ceramic floors of the shop. At least it was well-lit as sunlight flitted through the glass interior as you watched Rosie rifle through various storage cabinets with a determined expression.

“My offer still stands on helping you declutter, Miss Rosie.”

There was a clatter of muffin tins and small decorative metal cookie designs as the Overlord swept them aside with a kick of her shoe. She was almost inside the lower cabinet as you leaned further over the counter as your ears twitched at the various noises of shifting items. A bell? Something metallic rubbing against another. A strangely enticing squeak?

“All things are worth keeping, Bichon. You never know when- Ah ha!”

Your eyes went wide as you smelled the item before it was gently set down on the counter. She wasn’t going-, no, you couldn’t.

“I insist. Think of it as a favor for ol’ Rosie. I know you can make it thrive, Bichon.” Rosie praised as she lightly pushed the small burlap sack closer to your stunned form. Even within the protective material, you could still smell the faint metallic scent of the seedling. It’s what drew your attention to its’ parent in the first place as you and Rosie organized seeds one day. In comparison to its’ dramatic parent, the seed itself was a dull green color with a thin shell. So thin that you worried its protective coating would flake away before the plant grew enough roots to properly set in the hard earth.

“But Rosie what if-”

“It fails to thrive? Then, we’ll come up with another plan, my dear.” Rosie promised as she gently pried open your closed paw to place the small sack in it. Gentle, she was so gentle as you were forced to look anywhere but at her.

“I’ll give it my best then.” You promised as Rosie clapped her hands together in delight at your acceptance. There was the faintest chim of the shop’s greeting bell as Rosie rushed away to make quick conversation with the new guest. The small seed package in your hand still felt warm as you quickly tucked it away into your vest pocket. Next to your thudding heart as your keen gaze watched Rosie’s exaggerated hand gestures in her explanation to the guest.

“And the poor dearie thought that violet wouldn’t clash-”

Lively. It was one of the traits you admired in the woman, her seemingly endless supply of energy as it was rare for you to see her sit down. Her heels clicked against the floor as she placed another brown package of her guest as her hand idly waved towards you. The guest raised a brow, but nodded all the same before passing a sealed letter over to the shopkeep.

“Now, don’t you worry. It’ll get there within a day or two. Hellhound Couriers haven’t failed me yet.” Rosie chirped as she ushered the guest out with a flourish of her hand. While the other grabbed the letter off the counter without a second look.

“Where’s it going?” You asked as you opened up the satchel looped over your shoulder. Its contents were depressingly small for the effort it took to get here. Traversing through the Rings could be exhausting and expensive from the impossibly slow crowds of Sloth commuters to the bolder pickpockets of Greed.

“The Envy Ring. Something about a scorned love affair or something. She wasn’t exactly keen on the topic.” Rosie explained with a huff as the woman was a gossip hound at heart. Even as much as she denied it, stating it was mere conversation over tea and cake with a touch of theatrics.

“Want me to try and get more info from the other party?” You suggested with a grin.

“Oh, you know me only too well, Bichon.” Rosie praised as she handed over the letter with a knowing look. It was a fair trade in the end as you knew that she too would be benefiting from advertising your services. Currency freely exchanging hands as Sinners weren’t exactly able to travel between the Rings compared to Hellborne. At least half of your jobs came from the Pride Ring, it would have been even more if you took on more dangerous jobs like weaponry and drugs. Yet, you had seen too many of your fellow Couriers waylaid carrying those sorts of things. No, it’s why you stuck to letters, smaller packages and other less flashy deliveries.

Alarm shot through your form like an unpleasant shock as you spied the time on the wooden grandfather clock in the corner of the shop. Has it been that long? It seemed like merely an hour had passed since your arrival to the garden.

“Shit, Rosie, I’m sorry, I need to-” Your words rambled over each other as you hastily closed up your satchel. Rosie shook her head with a gentle look, she knew what you meant to say as you quickly dashed out the door without another word.

Somehow, it made the small seed packet feel all the warmer against your chest.

Your quaint morning didn’t last long as another client slammed their door in your face. You could easily hear the curses directed towards your unexpected news through the door. What else did the Sinner expect from a loan shark in the Greed ring, clemency? At least it was over and done with as you stepped out onto the cracked pavement of the street. It was almost second nature now to ignore the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as eyes followed your trail.

Hellhounds weren’t unheard of in the Pride Ring, but it was a rarer occurrence. It didn’t help that your company’s logo was stitched on the back of your blue vest ‘Hellhound Couriers. Bones, bags and bodies, we’ll fetch it all.’ in stylized block lettering. At least, the rest of the uniform wasn’t too drastic as you ran a finger over the brim of the knitted cloche hat, smoothing it out. Black slacks tailored for Hellhounds alone as the seams of the ends flared out for larger paws.

Your grip on the satchel tightened as your path was blocked by a pair of Sinners. Now the hair on the back of your neck was raised as the one with goat-like horns picked at sharp teeth with the tip of a knife. While the other held a casual nonchalant air about him, eyes piercing like serpents, but you could see the defined outline of a gun in his coat pocket.

“I told you Jack, it’s funny thing.”

“Oh, is it?” The goat retorted as you took a single step back.

“Ya, we go looking for Hellhound and lookie here. Satchel n all.”

A low growl vibrated in your throat as the would-be thieves eyed you up and down. Fuck, it wasn’t like you couldn’t fight, but it would risk the packages. That wouldn’t do at all. What would the recipient of the lover’s letter from earlier think if the sincere words were stained with blood.

“I don’t want trouble.” You hissed through clench teeth as your ears twitched at the loud click of the gun’s safety going off.

“Well, our associates don’t want debts. So here we are. Now be a good little doggie and hand those papers over.” The goat sinner demanded as he held out his hand, only to pull it back with a sharp scream as your teeth clamped down on flesh and bone. The sudden pull made it even easier for you to vault over the injured man.

“DON’T JUST STAND THERE, SHOOT.” The goat Sinner bleated as you could see him clutching the bleeding stubs of his pointer and index finger while his surprised associate scrambled with the gun.

A single loud crack broke through the air as you took a stuttered gasp of air. Fuck, your lungs burned even though the chase only begun. Blood blossomed over your vest as your shocked brain put two and two together, the bullet had pierced through your back and went out your chest. Hissing through the pain, you did your best to stifle the warm blood with your palm. It still dripped slowly onto the pavement as you scrambled into another alleyway. Copper hazily fogged your sense of smell as you tried to focus on anything but the wound. You needed a plan.

Quickly.

Another bullet thudded into the brick wall above your head as you willed your strained body to move once again. Blood, too much blood had been lost as you could feel the edges of your vision begin to flicker with black spots. Still, hope flickered in your chest as you caught sight of the familiar brass lettering of the gateway, all it was going to take was a few more steps.

“Fuck.” The curse spilled from your lips half spoken and half in a howl as a bullet tore through your lower left leg. Your sharp nails dragged into the concrete below as you tried to pull yourself forward, even with the numbing sensation spreading throughout your body.

“Could have made this all the easier if you had given us the damn-” The goat sinner growled as you felt the cool tip of the gun brush over the tops of your ears. His words muddled as you feebly tried to shrink away from the weapon. His mocking laughter rang in your head as you weakly held on the satchel as it was ripped from your form. The noise stuttered to a halt as the pointed tip of a knife protruded from his eye, warm blood dripped onto your cold form as you could hear the soft shake of an umbrella.

“Now, now that isn’t necessary.”

“You crazy bi-”

Another shriek pierced the air as the packed earth beneath you rumbled like a startled beast. Something wrapped around your midriff as it pulled you forward toward the gateway. You could feel the unintentional prick of thorns over your skin as the thing shuddered protectively before carefully setting you upright, still supporting you about your waist.

Vines? You blinked rapidly trying to clear the fog from your vision as you lightly brushed over the foliage. Yes, vines as the thing shuddered as you accidentally pricked yourself on a sharp thorn allowing dark blood to drip over its’ green-brown ‘flesh’.

“Now let’s take a look at you, looking a bit peaky, my little Bichon.”

“Rosie?”

Her gentle smile was the last thing you saw as the world was blanketed in darkness.

Soft. Warm. Too warm. You jolted upward as hot fire ripped through your chest from the exertion. Fuck, that was right, you had been shot, your sharp nails digging into your chest felt like a gentle caress compared to the throbbing muscle beneath it.

“Now, now. Let’s not be hasty.” The gentle voice was melodic in your ears as Rosie’s hands gently removed your tensed nails and held your paws in her own. You tried to speak, but your dried lips went mute as Rosie fussed over you. Holding cool water to your lips as you eagerly wet your parched throat. The back of her hand on your forehead as she tried to gauge the potential on-set for a fever.

She was taking care of you.

In her personal quarters.

In her bed.

“I removed the bullets, don’t fret. Seems like you are already healing up from that little misadventure, lamb.” Rosie tutted as she could see your eyes bounce around the room. It was surprisingly sparsely decorated.The bed, a modest wardrobe, a single bouquet of flowers in a crystal vase on the bedside table. The vase inhabits some sort of snapdragon that flared out with bright crimson petals.

The cool sheets did little to hide your flaming face as Rosie chuckled at your poor attempt to burrow yourself further under the cotton sheets. Anything to hide the pure scalding embarrassment of the disastrous day and having to be rescued by the Overlord of all people.

“Honestly, those interlopers must have been desperate to get after you for entering the Town uninvited. Whatever could have set them off.” Rosie questioned as you muttered an answer in a half-hearted explanation about Greed Ring loan sharks and bills. Or well coming due problems as you got a split second glance at the material when it was thrown back at your face.

“Ruffians. The lot of them. Going after my little Bichon like that. Well, Miss Tufele and Mr.Remius were delighted to have the late lunch-in. Gave me the most lovely of little tea cakes that we’ll-”

“I am sorry for causing you problems. Miss Rosie. It’s not becoming of my -”

“Hush.”

Your apology was cut off by a single finger against your muzzle as you went mute as commanded. Delicate, she was so gentle towards you as sharp nails brushed over your face. Treating you with as light a hand as a new sprout ready to be transplanted into the outside soil. Now a different sort of heat brushed through your fur, a slow warm ooze that started from the tips of your ears down to your toes. All because of a simple chaste kiss on your black snout as Rosie’s fingertips ghosted over your alert ears.

“Rosie, can I-”

“Oh, sweet Bichon, even in your injured state of are all manners” Rosie teased as your tail wagged at the flirtatious inflection in her tone. Her girlish giggles were like the chimes of the most delightful bells as your lips met for a proper kiss. Short, sweet and to the point as her perfume fluttered over your form. She always did smell delightful, but now up close, it was like a banquet. Sweet smelling vanilla and the gentle notes of roses. The faintest taste of copper as you leaned in to deepen the kiss, , but at the same time you whined as your injured flesh twinged from the movement.

The sharper sound ended the kiss quickly as Rosie clucked her tongue at your hasty actions.

“Now, there will be time for that later.”

You couldn’t help but sink dramatically into the pillows with a sigh as Rosie patted the top of your head with a chuckle.

“I promise.” Rosie muttered against the top of your ears as the sensitive things twitched from the brush of warm air against them. Still, you did as she asked and gave her a winning smile which she winked at.

“Well, this is a change. Usually I can’t get you to sit and stay for the briefest second of calm. Always underfoot like a cat in the kitchen wanting to help me with something. Although, I do have a request, next time, show up at my doorstep unbloodied, bichon.” Rosie hummed as she flitted around the room. Opening up the window to let fresh air inside as the low rays of the sunset crept into the interior.

“I’ll promise, Miss Rosie. Thank you..for..the..exciting day..” You promised as Rosie smiled that gentle sincere smile that made your heart flutter like a Hellhound pup over a bone.

“Think nothing of it, Bichon. Now how about a bit of tea?”

That’s how you spent the next few days. Sending apologetic letters to clients about needing to recuperate from unexpected delays. A few hesitant steps around the garden, Rosie on your arm giving encouragement. Piping hot tea and the little ginger cakes that you got to howl your praises over. Most memorable was the gentle kiss on your cheek as you left, satchel on your shoulder and a promise to come visit within the next few days.

Things were looking up in Hell.

#rosie x reader #x reader fic #x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #silverinkwrites

57 notes · View notes

indigovigilance · 2 years ago

Text

Tarot Symbolism in 1941

inspo: Three of Swords ask and answer by @embracing-the-ineffable

Okay guys this is outside my usual wheelhouse; I know just enough about tarot to be a nuisance. That said, once I saw the ask/answer above, I got to thinking about what other tarot symbolism might be in the S2E4 episode. "Nazi Zombie Flesheaters" was written by Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman, so it stands to reason this episode may contain unique elements not found elsewhere in the show.

I didn't analyze every suspect artifact, just the strong contenders. I'll demonstrate that whatever symbolism there may be directly pertains primarily to Aziraphale and to his relationship with Crowley. Below the cut we'll look at:

The Magician

The Chariot

Two of Coins

Ace of Coins

Three of Swords

Four of Swords

The Lovers

Two of Cups

Major Arcana

The Magician

First off may I just say that I am shocked and appalled that I have not come across a Fell the Marvelous magician tarot card. C'mon, artists of tumblr. Get it together.

This one is pretty obvious: Aziraphale is The Magician.

He has the ability to bridge the gap between heaven and earth and as such, he is capable of converting energy into matter.

The Magician is a card of manifestation: you want it so you make it happen. Aziraphale just grabbed this entire West End Stage situation by the horns and is steering it in the most ridiculous direction possible to show off for his knight in shining armor that just rescued him and his books.

Aziraphale manifests reality even when the miracle blocker is active: the bullet misses, and his notoriously unreliable sleight of hand works when he five-finger discounts Furfur's damning evidence.

Aziraphale is feeling his oats in this episode, and approaches every new challenge with the absolute and unwavering conviction that he can overcome it, and seemingly through sheer willpower, he does.

The magician is typically represented with all four symbols of power: a wand, a sword, a cup, and a coin (pentacle). This represents a high level of resourcefulness and adaptability, underlaid by the knowledge and skills necessary to deploy those tools.

The magician is a dangerous character, a boon to his allies and a threat to his enemies, but sometimes wields more power than wisdom. The magician has more ability to get what he wants than to necessarily know what is good for him.

The Chariot

This isn't symbolically referenced in 1941 per se but like I said, I have just enough knowledge of Tarot to be a nuisance and the symbolism was already there throughout the show so why not talk about it here.

This card depicts a black entity and a white entity (sometimes horses, sometimes sphynxes, depending on your deck) pulling a chariot. But the white thing and the black thing tend to be pulling in different directions, working against each other instead of with each other because they have different ideas about where the chariot they are both yoked to should be going:

It's rather inefficient.

And if that isn't a metaphor for Aziraphale and Crowley's influences on humanity and Earth, or the progress of their own relationship, I don't know what is.

But more generally, the Chariot represents the warring [internal] influences on the singular charioteer; their masculine and feminine aspects, their conscious and unconscious desires, etc. The message of the card is that the charioteer must define their goals so they can steer their powerful steeds in a single direction.

Much in this same way, Aziraphale [in the role of charioteer] is being pulled in opposite directions by his loyalty to Heaven and his conviction that Crowley is morally righteous. The challenge he faces is in unifying these beliefs.

The Magician & the Chariot

Where once there was one, now there are two; with the magician representing power and the chariot representing the unification of direction and purpose, the holistic effect is an incredibly powerful combination that can accomplish anything. Now that Crowley and Aziraphale have hitched themselves to the same cart, they will be unstoppable so long as they stick together and keep moving toward the same goal.

In the context of Aziraphale as the charioteer, however, the interpretation feels a bit more dire; there is great strength behind the forces that pull him in opposite directions, which now threaten to tear him in two. His ability to manifest has no clear direction.

Coins

Two of Coins (Pentacles)

Back at the bookshop, Aziraphale presents a sixpence and a farthing in the palm of his hand as part of a magic trick.

The Two of Coins is generally depicted as a juggler; like the chariot, this represents unsteadiness and conflict that needs to be resolved. The juggler is juggling multiple influences, trying to find balance and struggling to prioritize. It can indicate he is not giving enough of his energy to his romantic partner.

Ace of Coins (Pentacles)

After Aziraphale recites the magic words (and again, shocked and appalled that no one has done a meta on "banana fish gorilla shoelace with a dash of nutmeg," I mean are we meta-analysts or aren't we?) and the farthing has vanished, symbolically resolving the tension of duality:

The Ace of Coins (Pentacles), in the context of romance, represents a fresh start with a person who will provide stability: a knight in shining armor who arrives and provides a sense of security. It can represent a new beginning or a strengthening bond within an existing relationship.

If you have been considering taking your relationship to the next level, [the ace of coins] can also serve as a good omen.

I'm not even kidding, that's a straight quote from the source text.

Two of Coins -> Ace of Coins

Within this magic trick we have a symbolic transition from relational instability to stability, from unresolved romantic tension to a fresh start and strong bonding. If the magic trick is representative of Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship, this transition is a sign that they are coming closer together and starting a new chapter of their romance.

Three of Swords

Taken directly from the inspo; in the magic shop, as they are discussing the bullet catch, Aziraphale is standing in front of the Excalibur chest. Three swords emerge from the right side, and appear to be piercing his spine. The most direct imagery correlation is with this version of the Three of Swords:

The Upright Three of Swords signifies a sudden and unexpected blow to your emotions. When you see this card in a reading, it often foretells the sudden loss of a loved one, the realization of betrayal, or the end of an important relationship with someone you loved very much.

This accurately represents how Aziraphale felt the last time they saw each other, following the holy water request in St. James' Park.

At the end of this scene, Aziraphale disavows their "fraternity" and stalks off in a huff. Crowley makes no attempt to stop him. Clearly, neither of them expected the conversation to go this way, and each feels betrayed by the other.

Three of Swords & The Magician

When this duo appears in a reading, a breakdown in communication is causing serious issues.

During the entirety of S2E4, Aziraphale rushes boldly forward without duly considering Crowley's objections; by the same token, Crowley is also not being honest about his limitations. The "serious issue" that this causes is Crowley almost shooting Aziraphale in the face, a situation they would not be in if Aziraphale had not been so bull-headed about performing a dangerous and unfamiliar show-stopping trick.

Their relationship has barely been rekindled and has not had time to heal from the damage done in St. James' Park; it is too fragile for them to speak honestly with each other, and Aziraphale, fired up by egoistic fervor, charges boldly ahead with minimal regard for the consequences.

Suffice to say, this is some on-the-nose symbolism.

Four of Swords

When Aziraphale shakes Crowley's hand, he brings his hand up uncomfortably high to chest height, which seems like an odd choice until you realize that he has to do that in order to get his hand lined up perfectly between the aperture of the camera and the sword that sticks up from the Excalibur Chest. The three swords still emerge from his back, so Aziraphale is now the focal point of four swords. Additionally, the arrangement of the swords is in keeping with the general depiction of the tarot card; one sword is in his control/possession, three are not.

The Four of Swords is a symbol of chaos. It warns the subject that they are overwhelmed, overstimulated, out of touch:

- Haven't you fired a gun before? - Not as such.

...and needs to retreat and rest.

In romance, it can indicate that a rocky relationship is stabilizing and returning to normal. But it can also portent new issues that will make or break the relationship. One way or another, it is indicative of relational stress that needs to be resolved.

Four of Swords & The Magician

The combination with the Magician foreshadows a long-term relationship in your future. The key interpretation of the Four of Swords in this combo is that building yourself as a person first will attract the right partner.

Aziraphale (the Magician in question) has a lot of self-work to do resolving his attitudes about Good and Evil in order to be a good partner for Crowley, but if he can do it, the Four of Swords symbolism in this scene is a positive portent for their relationship.

Three of Swords -> Four of Swords

The transition from the Three of Swords to Four of Swords seems to indicate that a relationship broken by bad communication is starting to heal; it is not completely repaired, and there is still work to be done, but they have taken the first step. But it may also indicate that Aziraphale has bitten off more than he can chew and has introduced chaos into the relationship in his attempt to repair it.

The Lovers

We can't talk about Tarot without talking about the Lovers. Well, we could, but I'd get a lot of comments about it. The romantic candlelit scene invokes an image of lovers, so I'm running with it.

This card is rich with relevant symbolism and deserves its own meta from anyone who wants to do it. I will only briefly discuss it here insofar as it is directly relevant to the S2E4 depiction of events that occurred in 1941.

The upright Lovers tarot card can imply that you have major life-changing choices or are faced with a dilemma. Temptation is often part of that choice or dilemma.

Aziraphale constantly oscillates between the side of Heaven and the Third Side, but the events at the church have swung the needle and imbued our angel with a renewed sense of allegiance to his demonic companion. But this only serves to make things more complicated; no sooner is the flame of romance reignited than Furfur shows up to threaten Crowley, using their association as evidence against him. Miraculous escape notwithstanding, the danger of the situation is apparent. Aziraphale is aware that he may soon have to make some tough choices about who's side he's really on.

Two of Cups

The Two of Cups tarot card is one of the most positive relationship cards in the deck. When you pull this card in a reading, it stands for harmony, togetherness, and working as a team to build a strong partnership.

The Two of Cups is arguably more about love than The Lovers. This card indicates that the subject is in a deeply intimate, supportive romantic relationship. It serves to confirm that they've found The One.

The Magician & Two of Cups

...your new lover won’t be someone new at all, but a friend you already know well.

With the combined symbolism of Fell the Marvelous and the two glasses of wine at the end of the night, we have some holistic tarot symbolism that these two friends that go back a long time are, well... soulmates.

IN SUMMARY

I have no idea how much Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman, or by extension Neil Gaiman and John Finnemore, are into tarot, but it's a show about angels and demons and the episode features homoerotic magic tricks and Nazi zombies, so, you know... it wouldn't be the weirdest thing they've done to include some tarot symbolism.

This was a fun meta to write and if you enjoyed it please say so; if anyone would like me to do a deep dive into the Lovers card, let me know, and I'll put some energy into it the next time I feel like neglecting meatspace responsibilities.

If you enjoyed this meta, you may enjoy Why Aziraphale Wears Spectacles or, if you want to see my full catalog of metas, you can check out indigovigilance original content (metas)

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #tarot

130 notes · View notes

rxng · 2 months ago

Text

"On an aside..."

He lifts Quip, her progressing age shown in the steady growth of her limbs. Or, mostly, her midsection.

"Very long kitty."

The sphynx looks resigned to her fate.

#text #grammie's fave....

3 notes · View notes

volno · 1 year ago

Text

Sphynx Khajiit update - Oops

"pfftt converting these skin textures from cbbe/sos to the vanilla body types shouldn't be that hard, right? I can bang that out in like a day to two, right?" I thought, like a fool.

Turns out that it is, in fact, a lot harder than I thought; especially after my original plan of simply baking the maps from the modded bodies onto the vanilla bodies in Blender proved not to be a viable method (it both took too long and produced baking artefacts that had to be manually cleaned up). So I've opted to doing it manually in Substance Painter, which gives better results, but takes a fair bit longer to do. But I have, at least I've learnt a bit more about the program as a result. Otherwise, I have made progress on patching the issues with the non-diffuse head textures reverting to the default textures when the player becomes a vampire (massive shout out to Papitas and their guide on NiOverrides, I legitimately can't find a better resource on it anywhere else) Progress on this hasn't been as swift as I like, and I am finding it once again difficult to work on (thanks ADHD), but this project is something I both really want to, and sort of need to, finish. As some of you know, the least year was uh, not great to put it mildly, mainly for me due to my irl situation, and I started this project when my mental health was really starting to deteriorate. But now that I'm in a better spot and my health is improving, I feel like finishing this mod will bring me some closure for that chapter of my life. So I'm gonna take it as it comes, maybe even finish some other projects first, but so help me god, this thing is getting finished eventually.

Got a little serious and emotional there at the end, huh? What can I say, the raw chicken cats bring that out in me for some reason.

#Sphynx Khajiit #elder scrolls #skyrom modding #devlog #mod dev

9 notes · View notes

thebearthatreads · 1 year ago

Text

Get to know my characters

Hi, I'm still here! If you've ever wanted to know what kinds of characters I write here's a brief rundown of the main characters from my novels and my current works in progress.

Willow – The protagonist of It’s All Magic to Me, Willow is a twenty-something balance family and friends along with university studies. Coming from a mixed-race background, predominantly Scottish and Malaysian with some other unmentioned nationalities thrown in, Willow is closely bonded with her family particularly to her grandfather who lives with them. Asexual and Aromantic, Willow has no interest in dating but adores spending time with her two best friends – Miri and Sam. At university she is most of the way through a Bachelor of Arts with a History major and is considering further study. Her hobbies involve nail art, she has over thirty shades of nail polish in her cupboard, and training her newfound magic abilities.

Sphynx – In lieu of a MMC, It’s All Magic to Me has Sphynx. Full name Synphineuous Abydian. A copper coloured Abyssinian cat whose been around for a few hundred years. He’d retired as a familiar up until he discovered Willow but was more than happy to pounce back into the role. Patient, kind, fiercely protective, and a little stubborn. Sphynx enjoys teaching magic and talking about his previous owners, he also loves sleeping in laundry hampers and hiding under the bed.

Millicent ‘Milly’- NPC energy, main character of Customerpocalypse. A bit of a pessimist, stuck working in customer service, Milly is a disillusioned twenty-something before the apocalypse hits. After the apocalypse Milly bounces between self-loathing and general boredom with how despite a world changing event, she’s wound up in a customer service position again. She does not appreciate her boss’ secret hiding places, the mutated creatures of the wasteland, or the general weird nonsensicalness of the survivortopolis. What she does like is rabbits, (Hunky) Crossbow Larry, and her weirdo friends/former co-workers.

Selby – One of the three MCs of the Venatores de Mythos trilogy. Hailing from Darwin, Australia, Selby comes from a mixed racial background but predominantly gives off white girl vibes. Eighteen and studying an undergraduate medical degree at Bond University when Book 1 starts. Upon joining the Venatores de Mythos organisation she is assigned to Team Excalibur. Selby has been practicing Muay Thai since she was a child and is a proficient fighter, she bonds quickly with her teammates and with Shahrazad and Roque (the other MCs).

Shahrazad – Lowkey my favourite of the Venatores de Mythos trilogy’s three MCs. Born in Marrakesh to a French father and Arab mother, Shahrazad is multilingual fluent in both her parents’ languages as well as English. Her family moved to New South Wales, Australia during her early teens. Twenty-two years old and studying Stage Management at NIDA, when book 1 starts Shahrazad is uncertain of the path her life is following searching for a sign. Eager to reembrace her French heritage, having had it completely shut off to her after her father’s death some years ago, Shahrazad wholeheartedly embraces joining the Venatores de Mythos. She’s also a lesbian and she gets a happy, positive, romance subplot throughout the series.

Roque – Venatores de Mythos trilogy’s MMC! Roque is a twenty-year-old, engineering student at the university of Buenos Aires when book 1 starts. Fascinated by machines, architecture, and history. Roque is extremely close with his family, constantly trying to find ways to support his mother and younger siblings. He takes the opportunity offered by the Venatores de Mythos in honour of his deceased uncle, and because it allows him to financial support his family. Over time he comes to consider Selby and Shahrazad as his second family.

Ginny – FMC for Chimera. Ginny is the Chimera in question, a witch with various mythical creatures interspersed in her genetic and cultural heritage. Twenty-something years old and in hiding from creature specialists who want to dissect her and her family, Ginny struggles with her newfound lack of freedom desperately longing to return to the time before the incident. Fiercely protective and loving towards her family, Ginny has the gift to see death omens.

Adrian – MMC for Chimera. An only child, Adrian is the adopted son of creature specialist Caspian. With innate magic, Adrian wants to learn how to control his power and become a fully recognised warlock or at the very least he’d like to have a little freedom in his life. Ever since he was a child he’s been under the constant watch of Charity, a ghoul contractually bound to his father’s service. If the only way to obtain a modicum of freedom is to prove to his father that he has what it takes to be a creature specialist then that’s what he’ll do.

#writeblr #writing community #my ocs #my characters #my writing

4 notes · View notes