gentlelass - Tumblr blog

[gentlelass]

Hey there, good folk of Tumblr! I am in a bloody mighty draw-y and writ-y mood.

Anyone curious 'bout Margo, since I purposely left you in the dark up until now? Anyone wandering 'bout her and Mordecai, their relationship, anything? ... no? Well, if you do, ASK! In my 'ask me anything' box thingy, which is officially open! And I WILL answer, because... well, because I am just that much desperate to info dump someone 'bout her. And bloody slow at finishing the illustrations for her character sheet, might I add.

[gentlelass]

More Margo WIPS

Somewhat chibi Margo WIPS - one in her work attire running around making even more of a mess than the one she’s supposed to clean, the other in her… petticoat, I suppose? Her chemise? Her slip? That kinda thing. Maybe even her night attire.

I think digital colouring may work for me. It’s two times the amount of work, but I like how it turns out.

-GentleLass.

[gentlelass]

White, the magna pinna (don’t know whether that’s how you call it in English? The super long squid of the Mariannes Trench it is, the name comes from latin), dark chocolate

@foco01 @aghostnamedcalamity @ahhhh-118 @samantha-and-her-chaotic-desires

A person's favorite color, favorite animal, and favorite flavor of ice cream can say a lot about them when considering the answers as a whole. Some prime examples I've heard are:

~ Silver, Artic Wolf, and Mint Chocolate Chip.

~ Pink/Yellow, Putu Bird, and Cotton Candy.

~ Light Brown, Tree Kangaroo, and Rum Raisin.

~ Green, Pig, and Cookie Dough.

Mine are:

~ Burgundy, Fox, and Moose Tracks.

Tag some friends and get a sense of who they are! :)

@notable-bumblr @persistentchaos @enterfandomreference @valerietompson @paper-crowns-and-tiaras @ironxprince @acecuddle @angst-dealer @hey-you-i-just

[gentlelass]

Margo WIP, and she’s mighty cute at that, coloured and non ❤️!

-GentleLass.

[gentlelass]

Mordecai doodle.

Mordecai doodle❤️.

[gentlelass]

Wow, so— I really wasn’t expecting this, I guess it’s kinda the first time I get tagged. Thanks I suppose, lol.

@serval-whiskers @samantha-and-her-chaotic-desires @aghostnamedcalamity @ahhhh-118

Let’s start a tag game!

Picrew: Link

Tags :D

@ramblingsofacotlfangirl @bunnybitsy @gameslotel @fluffysweetnectarine @itti-bitti-yibbi @anti-c1ffee

[gentlelass]

This is honestly the only way I can imagine and accept a domestic partnership - be it romantic or not - between Margo and Mordecai to go about. Him, militaristic discipline, order made person, a obsessive-compulsive hypochondriac.

While her…

Bringing random strays, probably sick and dirty as well, inside of the house in the dead of the night or something.

Not very original as a concept, but still.

Also, yea, it’s literally a cat holding… cats.

-GentleLass.

[gentlelass]

(Translation: ‘Incredible, gentlelass! You have reached 100 likes!’)

Oh. My. God.

THANK YOU!! Guys, I’m so bloody happy— not for the likes per se, but the mere fact people enjoy my art, so silly, to the point of actively following me and my journey and actually bothering to interact. I get butterflies in my stomach every time a new notification comes up, the fever of hope making me turn on the phone at speed light; and when I recognise a name or profile picture (because yes, I do recognise you!), my heart throbs and my lips curl up and I just can’t stop ‘em. I love ya, people of Tumblr: this might sound like the empty words of a girl who hides behind a phone, but I really do. I never dared posting any of my art before, y’know? The fear of judgement, of failure, of being labeled as ‘cringe’ and ‘childish’. But this platform, so friendly and welcoming, so inspiring, gave me the courage… and look where I am now! Only thanks to you, sweet folk of Tumblr ❤️.

The one in the drawing is supposed to be me, by the way, lol. Not Marjorie and neither GentleLass, but just me, the lass behind the blog,

Forever yours,

-Isabel.

[gentlelass]

In this world,

there are the face of someone who is in love...

... and the face of someone who is in love.

❤️.

-GentleLass.

[gentlelass]

HEY THERE, SWEET FOLK OF TUMBLR!

So, I ain’t been posting for quite a few days and feel mighty guilty ‘bout it, so do take these few sketches I’ve been working on (without further context about them)—!

Featuring Margo’s finished re-design, which at this point isn’t as much of a re-redesign as much as it is just a re-styling:

Indeed in the end I’ve decided to go on with the Sphinx theme- it is just historical for me of her character and it felt wrong to change it. What I did change however were her hairstyle, the shape of her face - which now is rounder and ‘softer’ than it was before - the shape of her eyes: before her eyes were slant but wide open, and she looked somewhat worried or anxious, whereas now they are semi-closed and with more eyelashes, giving a more ‘chill’ feel. I also changed her default attire: as you can see, it somewhat recalls of a maid’s uniform… or perhaps that of a housekeeper. Just a pointer for you my dear readers to start discerning her role within the Lackadaisy (or better say, Marigold…), tho I ain’t about to disclose anything further about her… just yet.

I DO will finish, and perhaps even colour, and then post these sketches. I am also working on Margo’s Lackadaisy character sheet in the meanwhile, so sooner or later you will do get further information about her.

If you’re too impatient to wait for it, though, do be be aware that my ‘ask me anything’ thingy box is open - I WILL be accepting any kind of questions ‘bout her because I’m just that much desperate.

Bye bye and hope to hear from you soon!

-GentleLass.

[gentlelass]

Hey there, lovelies.

Take this doodle I did just now while I was supposed to be completing my Latin homework - featuring Margo's desing-in-progress. At this point she's became some weird, halfway-done hybrid between a skunk and a racoon.

Also, I do am aware that Mordecai looks like either he is on drugs, or the one who drew him is. Perhaps both.

I've got no further words.

-Gentlelass.

[gentlelass]

Hey there, lovely fellas.

Update 'bout Margo's redesign development ^

Currently trying to base her off of... a skunk. Don't ask why, I just like them. They're cute, and odd enough. Also, the black and white pattern of their fur heavily recalls Mordecai's.

That you see up there is just a prototype, though. A sketch I did today at school 'cuz history and chemistry classes were making me feel very lethargic. I didn't have any skunk's reference at hand (unless my best friend Simon counts as one, which I'd wager he does), hence the drawing might be not that much accurate.

I'll update you when I reach a final product.

Bye bye!

-GentleLass.

[gentlelass]

Hey there, fellas! Have a look at what I just found:

That's right, old drawings of Marjorie - from a time where I was still delusional-ly convinced I could actually color a drawing without making a mess out of it.

... yes, the second drawing is a shameless and quite frankly horrid attempt at self-insert of that one drawing of Serafine Savoy:

As I have already mentioned in a past post of mine, I have been in the Lackadaisy fandom for a LONG time, hence my OC has been being worked on for... a very long time. And she still is! Hence why I haven't been posting in the last few days, actually. I'm still working on her character design... it doesn't fully convince me as of yet. Ironically, I almost like the old design you see up there ^ more than I like the current one shown in the posts of this blog. Then again, I am a very fickle person, I do admit it: I might as well jump with a post in two days and reveal I randomly decided to drastically overturn her whole character or something. Seriously, do expect it, I am the type of person to do that on a whim.

Also, I have not been posting because I'm trying to make a Toyhouse for Marjorie. I already have an account there... the problem is learning how the hell to use it. I am not a very technological person - quite the contrary, call me a fully-fledged grandma - and that's also the reason I solely draw traditionally.

What else? Nada, I guess. See you as soon as possible with some more or less new design for poor Marjorie, and, hopefully, a decent Toyhouse profile for her.

Bye! - GentleLass.

[gentlelass]

Strange creatures, those of St. Louis

21st September 1927, US, Missouri, St. Louis.

Marjorie ‘Margo’ Ford sat and waited on a bench in the park, the imperceptible sound of her own and her companion’s breath sole company in the dreaded waiting that came before a hit.

Where Serafine Savoy would have found the hunt to be the best part of a hit, Marjorie Ford thought it to be the worst.

Ghost-like figure in her silence, just as ephemeral as the quickly ever-changing, ever-dancing lights and shadows of dusk. Her pale face was impassive, devoid of any emotion that might betray what was happening around her. Her eyes, daggers of gold which could pierce through steel, watching everything with dispassionate scrutiny. She wasn’t looking at the park and its sights, however. Rather, the crows reunited at her feet, almost as if the universe itself was mocking her, really - the crows, birds of ill-omen by definition… and the gunwoman feeding them. Oh, the irony! Marjorie thought bitterly. Feed them, feed the damned, and they would come back in her dreams with blood in their beaks! Or, more likely, it wasn’t the crows the problem but rather her own guilt tripping her… still, the birds had a way of irritating her.

The hit itself was… well, quick for a lack of a better term. As many killers have stated before, once you shot one bullet, you thrust a blade, you can’t exactly stop to think. It’s a daze, almost a fever dream, you don’t know when or how it starts, and neither when or how it stops. You just know that the moment before you’re clean, physically and mentally, and the moment after you’re sweaty, bloodied, panting and overall in dire need of a change of clothes, and quite possibly, soul.

But the hunt. Oh, the hunt. Prepare, check, search, ambush, wait. And when you wait, you think, and thinking always is a bad idea, for those who have a dirty conscience.

You know what they say, from where I come from? ‘Occhio non vede, cuore non duole’. Literally, ‘when the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t ache’. Or, more metaphorically, ‘out of sight, out of mind’.

The morale of it? ‘Don’t think, just act’. That was the way Margo should have gone about her hits, if she wanted to come out of this half sane - if she ever did, come out of this American underworld she found herself stuck in, that is.

The only problem being, Marjorie Ford had always been an overthinker.

It was a cold night, too. Despite the fact that it had rained earlier in the day, the humidity remained heavy and damp, like a veil drawn over the city, obscuring any chance of sight, let alone breath. Marjorie could feel herself suffocating under the layers of it. And perhaps it was also the layers of her shawl draped over her shoulders, and her head as well, concealing her features almost like the veil of a nun. Except, the lady was far from it - her camouflage was more a need than a vow, and for all the wrong reasons at that. Not to avoid sin but rather to hide it, perhaps the suffocation that came with it was just karma.

Well, better smothered by a mantle than by the hands of a cop.

Margo threw yet another piece of bread at the ravens, and the vicious circle that were her thoughts began yet again.

There was another person lurking around the park tonight. His uniform, carrying the same emblem of Margo’s… and so was his mood.

In his own peculiar way, Mordecai Heller was interested in the crows too. Such… well, peculiar, creatures, indeed. Strange, creatures. Volatiles, animals, sacks of flesh, blood and instinct… and yet so intelligent, their eyes so shiny, their beaks so sharp, their claws so able. Not quite as dull as pigeons, and neither as… sickly, yet also not quite to his liking either.

And so was the veiled woman accompanying him on this subfusc crepuscle, much to his own dismay or not, he wasn’t sure about it.

Marjorie Ford, strange woman just as much as the crows were strange birds.

Strange creatures.

Mordecai sat on the edge of that same bench, in a park in St. Louis, trying to keep a certain distance between himself, that woman and those… ravenous ravens. They might not be as dull and sickly as pigeons, but you know what they say, ‘better safe than sorry’. And the same concept applied to… that strange woman, as well. Not quite as rowdy as the Savoy sibilings, Mordecai would have almost found her presence tolerable, if he could have found it at all that is. The truth is that she was tolerable because she almost wasn’t there, a refreshing change of pace from the insufferable Savoys, whose presence was as much unforgettable as it was unrequested. Refreshing, but not completely welcomed either, rather unnerving for a lack of a better term. The way she would go about their hits, wrapped in a stole like the Virgin Mary… or more like Bloody, Mary, in this case. Quite the clever choice actually, although he would never say it outright - the red colour, although it wasn’t the most surreptitious of all for a gunwoman who was meant to go unnoticed, it would also conceal traces of blood, as well as weapons and all manner of unGodly artillery in her not-so-Saintly hands, stained of blood indeed, but only metaphorically… thanks to that shawl of hers indeed. Garbed that way, she somewhat reminded him of his mother - and that only added to the unnerving vibe of it all.

The way she would clutch her purse as if it contained her soul - ‘soul’, read: Luger P08.

The way she would follow him like a shadow on a hit: she didn’t speak, barely breathed, and would practically mimic him in his movements, his methods of… hitting the hit. Was it out of inexperience? Or was it HIM, the one who was subconsciously copying HER? Mordecai didn’t know. Just like he didn’t know where Miss Ford lived. Only where she did not, live: that being the Maribel Hotel. As meticulous as he was, he had probed, checked, investigated, and turns out they had never heard of a Marjorie Ford at the reception; Mordecai had tried three different spells of the the name ‘Marjorie’, had tried going for Margo Ford, Margo-t, but nothing. Well, that was still in his favour, wasn’t it? The less he had to hang about the Maribel Hotel, the less time he had to spend around the Savoys. Or Mr Sweet and his dysfunctional jokes. Or that… invasive Miss of a certain Zulie. Mordecai shuddered, at the tought of her touch on him, and the touch of Seraphine’s blade that had came right after it. As much as stoic as he could be, as much as he could have the sensitivity of a table spoon in more ways than one, Mordecai Heller was just a man under the veneer of cold elegance, just as susceptible to Mr Sweet’s dubious sense of humor, Miss Zulie’s flirtations, just as susceptible to pain - both of the flesh and the mind, as well as the hunger of the former - as any other man.

But hey! Now there was Marjorie Ford in his life, and the more Miss Ford, the less Serafine, Nicodeme, and… Zulie.

Well, she wouldn’t be able to save him from Asa Sweet, but she wasn’t safe from his ire - more like feigned joy, in this case - either, and, well, a trouble shared is a trouble halved, isn’t it?

Strange woman, this Miss Ford… but one whose presence would play to his advantage, in the grand scheme of things. And Mordecai Heller always, thinks ahead.

… if only she could QUIT attracting this pesky, petty, PESTIFEROUS avifauna to their stalking spot though— didn’t she know how unhygienic that was?!

——————————————————

Hey there, sweet folk of Tumblr! Yes, I have already RETURNED with my feverish passion for Lackadaisy, this time burning in the form of writing! Have this little… uh… fanfic? Scenario? One-shot? Picturing lovely Margo and Mordecai on one of their first hits together. They don’t know each other quite well - and it shows. One barely notices the other, and the latter goes on a mental rant trying to figure out the former.

As you may have noticed I am very psychological in my writing, going for thoughts rather than actions, and I’ve tried to get inside the characters’ heads as much as possible. I frankly don’t know how much of a good job with Mordecai: he is a very nuanced character after all, plus an adult man, where I am just a lass - I’m not sure how realistically did I picture him, I don’t know how a grown man thinks, I can just hope it’s as close to canon as possible.

To a lighter note though! Thank you All for the support I’ve been receiving until now, the likes, the reblogs and the comments! Really, you’ve sent me into something dangerously close to a sugar-high… should I call it a love-high?❤️

I may or may not try to draw an illustration based on this later in the day and then post it.

[gentlelass]

Hey there! As promised (and threatened...) I've came right back to torment you with my dubious art!

With sweet Margo up there ^, flavor: day-to-day attire. I kind of like how it turned out, although the hair doesn't convince me much.

I would have tried to color it, but I've already learnt in the past, to my own expense, that it isn't really my forte. The colors I would associate with Margo though are the most blinding white only to be stained with sweetest shades of blood red.

Her dress, especially the frills on it were inspired from the ballerinas of the time - more specifically Vera Fokina, in 'Le Carneval', Stockholm 1914:

I've always loved ballet, and the opera as well- the grace, the wispiness and the elegance.  Traits connecting to cats and the Sphynx species in partcular, given the daintiness of its features, so sleek and svelte - hence my association of it all with Margo herself.

I think she would enjoy the likes of Turandot, 1924 - or Madame Butterfly, 1904, both from Puccini. Love, tragedy, intrigues, Oriental lore: there's for all tastes to enjoy, really.

But now I'm running on a tangent again, am I not?

These were Margo and some trivia I hope entinced your curiosity about her character, this was GentleLass on speaker, and you'll be hearing of us - me, Margo, and Mordecai Heller - again much to your dismay!

Stay tuned. Over, and out!

[gentlelass]

Hey there.

'GentleLass' on speaker.

These lovely fellas you see up there ^ are Mordecai Heller from @lackadaisycats and my very own OC. Her name is Marjorie 'Margo' Ford. She's based on a Sphynx cat by the way, hence the lack of fur and whiskers alike.

They both look mildly pissed, lol, I love 'em. Please excuse the less-than-ideal quality of the photo, the device is what is is and I myself am no photographer, far from it.

I've been in this fandom for a LONG while now but never really had the guts to start a blog about it myself. Well, until now.

I feel really awkward right now and I'm basically writing a manuscript here, so I will cut the chit-chat. Tell me what you think in the comments? I don't even know if you DO CAN comment on Tumblr, lol, I'm new to the platform.

Just... do your thing, sweet folk of Tumblr.

You'll be hearing of me, Margo and Mordecai again. It's as much of a promise as it is a warning, a threat and a mantra for myself to not give up out of laziness.

Adieu (but not for long),

GentleLass.