#both of whom exhibit the same fourth wall breaking powers

[youngpettyqueen]

im like 90% convinced that the Doctor is of the same species that the Toymaker and Maestro are

[eorzeasfrozenknight]

[Short story] Uncaged.

Gazing at the beast before her with calm Yuki hefts her Caladbolg to face this threat expression never shifting waiting before the monster before her pounced. When it did she with a strength speed deceptive of her Plate-clad form managed to raise her sword enough to catch the beast midair running it through the heart ending its existence but not before it shrieked out a dying peal alerting the remaining beasts in the area all of them. 

“Ah Shite...” Was all Dark Knight bothered to utter before preparing for company, finding herself surrounded by no less than eight or nine of the very same creature she had just downed moments ago, but she sensed something else shifting her gaze to her left she sees a the silhouette of something much larger than the fodder around her: an Alpha. ‘Well then... this will be interesting.’ she muses internally ‘certainly so... art thou sure you wish to do this alone? you need only ask and i will lend you my power.’  Her Darkside asks her, both knowing full well she had not begun to succumb to her inner darkness just yet ‘perhaps, we shall see.’ 

She answers tersely to herself feeling its understanding yet smug grin in the back of her mind she centers herself and notices the Alpha approaching quickly too quickly “Fuck!” is all she gets out before she dodges to the side narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws of the beasts that had joined their leader in the attack. Sweeping her blade in a wide arc she catches three of the smaller beasts the serrated great sword cleaving bone and sinew with ease as splitting one of their heads in two at eye level in her sweep, dismembering another and catching the last one in the chest the blade biting hard as she manages to throw the now mortally wounded beast into a fourth its rib cage crushed inwards from the force of the blow. ‘thats three..’ ‘you still have five plus their leader don’t get distracted.’ her darkside reminds her sternly certainly not feeling like dying herself she rushes to the felled fourth beast as it recovers driving her weapon down its howling maw silencing it permanently then tearing her blade in an attempt to bring it to bear on her next target.

Only to be blindsided from her left being effectively rammed into the jaws of the Alpha, picked up and tossed like a rag doll before being thrown violently into the rock wall a distance away. Groaning as she hits the ground several new puncture marks in her armor and body, she looks up at the approaching 5 monsters before a menacing red aura begins to surround her as she gives into her Darkness and her rage within. ‘yes. that’s the way.’ her Darkside coaxes as it joins her in her fight a savage blood thirsty grin splitting her face as two minds become one, her chains broken, her Fury Uncaged, for the moment, she was free.

A guttural warcry screams from her throat despite her injuries she stands then leaps to the nearest beast, nigh cleaving it in two as she lands before rounding on the 3 closing as the Alpha watches. Attacking as a pack they attempt to surround the Knight once more, only to find when they pounced to have one aught by its throat in a vice grip and another impaled upon the knights weapon. That she was terrifyingly using in one hand, having leaned over forward to dodge the 3rd coming from her back she lifts her head to stare at the 3rd. Now wearily watching the monstrous combatant as She rips her sword from dying one whimpering beast and crushes the windpipe of the other like a twig, her expression one of enraged glee a maniacal laugh escaping her lips as she holds her sword aloft and points the tip at the remaining beast. “BEGONE.” She states her grin never dropping as an orb of abyssal energy and void fire build for but a moment on the tip of the blade, lancing the remaining beast and consuming it in Void fire.

Shifting her attention to the remaining Alpha Yuki stalks forward, breaking into a run still one handing her weapon and leaping once more towards her target. Only the Alpha was ready and attempted to snap Yuki out of the air in its jaws, it was not however expecting the feat of might exhibited by the small Knight whom having managed to land her feet on the edge of the beasts jaw and using her right arm to keep the maw open. Yuki swings her sword downwards in a lazy arc lopping off the front half of the Alphas lower jaw making it recoil howling in agony, the unhinged knight landed heavily arms loose by her sides as she picks herself back up and looks right at the Alpha, her eyes glowing a mix of Red and Purple. “Such a... Shame... the things that seem so strong always break so easily.” “Its why they summon their Weapon so often the weak fools.” “Yes, but we’re not talking about them, we’re talking about this... thing. not much of an Alpha, i was expecting... more. A pity.” 

She drawls out her grin never fading lurching forward as she presses her attack once again Yuki leaps in a way only a Dark knight could, sword singing as she coats the blade in abyssal magic and cleaves one of the forelimbs off the still Reeling Alpha sending it crashing to the ground. Standing atop her conquest her grin steadily fades to a look of boredom as she simply takes her mighty blade and drives it into the middle of the wounded beast “Burn.” Is all she utters before discharging another blast of abyssal energy and void fire into the beast cause its body to burst in a shower of gore and viscera. Standing among the mutilated corpses of her victims she takes a moment to look at her hand a solitary tear trails down her face her eyes having returned to normal. She then looks at the state of her dress “Gods... Cadette and Saeko won’t let me hear the end of this.” She huffs as she continues her trek despite her wounds. She had a home to go back to after all.

Mentions: @catdette and @abyssal-xaela <3 (seriously hope you like it)

[caveartfair]

When Can Artists Bend Ethics for Art’s Sake?

Sophie Calle, Suite Vénitienne, 1980. “At the end of January 1980, on the streets of Paris, I followed a man whom I lost sight of a few minutes later in the crowd. That very evening, quite by chance, he was introduced to me at an opening. During the course of our conversation, he told me he was planning an imminent trip to Venice. So I decided to follow him.” © Sophie Calle / ADAGP, Paris & ARS, New York, 2018. Courtesy of Perrotin.

What right does an artist have to use other people in their work—to invade their lives, violate their privacy, or cause them harm? What will we forgive in the name of art?

These are the questions I was asking a decade ago when, for a graduate performance art class taught by Tania Bruguera, I paid a classmate $1 to befriend my best friend Laura and write reports on how she thought Laura was coping after a recent break-up. At our final class, I passed around a folder containing these reports and a photocopy of the $1 check I’d written. The folder reached Laura last. I watched across the table as she read the document of my simultaneous care and betrayal.

I got an A for the class, but lost my friend. It was a horrible thing to do, but I was 21 and obsessed with Sophie Calle and the line between art and life. Since the 1970s, Calle has repeatedly invited us to question whether artists should be held to the same standards as other people. In viewing her work, we must ask whether invading someone’s privacy or betraying their trust is an acceptable emotional cost to art.

Sophie Calle, The Hotel, 1981. “On Monday February 16, 1981, I was hired as a temporary chambermaid for three weeks in a Venetian hotel. I was assigned twelve bedrooms on the fourth floor. In the course of my cleaning duties, I examined the personal belongings of the hotel guests and observed through details lives which remained unknown to me. On Friday March 6, the job came to an end.” © Sophie Calle / ADAGP, Paris & ARS, New York, 2018. Courtesy of Perrotin.

In 1979, Calle followed a man she’d met at an art opening in Paris to Venice, where she spent two weeks spying on and photographing him as he went about his business in the city. She presented the images alongside text detailing both her observations and emotions during the period, as Suite Vénitienne. This man, identified only as Henri B., was the first unwitting participant to Calle’s artistic game.

In 1983, she found a lost address book on the street and photocopied the contents before returning it. She then telephoned each of the contacts to question them on the identity of the owner, and published her findings as a series (“The Address Book”) in the French newspaper Libération. The owner, the documentary filmmaker Pierre Baudry, threatened to sue her, wrote open letters to Libération, and eventually sent the paper a nude photo of Calle that he demanded they publish as retaliation. This literal tit-for-tat response to her exposure of his identity did not perturb Calle; she ultimately incorporated it into the piece.

For The Hotel (1983), Calle worked as a chambermaid, exploring and documenting the private belongings and writings of hotel guests. Observing this piece, we experience both Calle’s curiosity and the unsettling thought that, at every hotel we have ever stayed in, our own possessions might have been subjected to similar scrutiny. What might someone like Calle have learned from our nightgowns and slippers, our diaries and postcards? How might she have misinterpreted us?

Sophie Calle, Suite Vénitienne, 1980. © Sophie Calle / ADAGP, Paris & ARS, New York, 2018. Courtesy of Perrotin.

Neighbors #14, 2012. Arne Svenson Robert Klein Gallery

A crucial element of these early pieces is Calle’s involvement of the viewer in her transgressions. By inviting us to immerse ourselves in the narratives of her observations, she makes us complicit in her voyeurism—even as we question it. It is not just Calle invading these strangers’ privacy and observing their lives without consent, but us, too. We may not agree with her methods, but by engaging with the work, we find ourselves tacitly condoning it.

Decades later, though, the question that still hangs over these pieces is whether or not they were ethical. Did Henri B., Pierre Baudry, or those hotel guests have a right to privacy? Can any of us expect to be protected from the artist’s gaze?

In 2013, Arne Svenson caused a Calle-like controversy for using a telephoto lens to take photos of his Manhattan neighbors, later exhibiting the work in a local gallery. Svenson was sued, but won the case based on his First Amendment rights, and “The Neighbors” went on to be exhibited across the country. Though the discussion continues as to whether Svenson’s photographs of families, children, pets, and intimate, private spaces is ethically acceptable, the judge’s ruling makes clear that legally, at least artists have a right to invade aspects of our privacy.

Santiago Sierra, 160 CM LINE TATTOOED ON 4 PEOPLE, El Gallo Arte Contemporaneo. Salamanca, Spain. December 2000, 2000. © Santiago Sierra. Courtesy of Lisson Gallery.

Considered in conjunction with conversations about digital surveillance, data protection, and online privacy—not to mention random strangers who might be livetweeting intimate exchanges—this ruling might seem rather scary. Belgian artist Dries Depoorter uses digital technology to explore this fear. For Tinder In (2015), Depoorter traced women (and some men) who appeared on his Tinder app to their LinkedIn profiles, then displayed and published their profile pictures from each side by side, pointing out both the ease with which individuals can be traced, and the split-personalities of online identities.

The interesting thing about all of these pieces is that, while their controversy lies in the question of an individual’s right to privacy, the works themselves actually reveal very little about their subjects. In reading the texts accompanying Calle’s work, we learn much more about the stalker than the stalked. It’s easy to understand the sense of invasion felt by Henri B. and Pierre Baudry, as well as Svenson’s neighbors and Depoorter’s Tinder matches, but perhaps the true grievance is that the artists have used these strangers’ images and identities to create works that have nothing to do with them.

Spanish artist Santiago Sierra’s use of anonymous individuals raises similar ethical questions, though rather than invading their privacy, he asks them to submit to him bodily. For 160cm Line Tattooed on 4 People (2000), he paid heroin-addicted prostitutes the price of a shot of the drug to allow him to tattoo them. For Group of Persons Facing a Wall (2002), he paid homeless women the price of a night in a hostel to stand facing a gallery wall. And for 10 People Paid to Masturbate (2000), he paid workers $20 to masturbate in front of a camera.

Santiago Sierra, 10 PEOPLE PAID TO MASTURBATE, Tejadillo Street, Havana, Cuba. November 2000, 2000. © Santiago Sierra. Courtesy of Lisson Gallery.

Unlike Calle, Svenson, and Depoorter, Sierra does seek consent from his subjects, but the nature of this consent is highly questionable. These pieces draw attention to the exploitative, transactional nature of our society, pointing to the commodification of bodies and exposing the power structures that operate within our everyday lives. Conceptually and politically, the works might be seen as noble, but in actually using the bodies of vulnerable individuals, Sierra must enact the very exploitation and dehumanization he critiques. He forces us to ask if it is okay for an artist to use people. Can the end justify the means?

In 1992, Paul Auster based a character in his novel Leviathan on Sophie Calle, borrowing some of her works as well as inventing new ones. This depiction of Calle is heavily critiqued in Chris Kraus’s autofictional novel I Love Dick (1997); she claims Auster’s version of Calle is “a waif-like creature relieved of complications like ambition and career.” Ironically, this criticism—that using a real person as the subject for art strips that person of their individuality and complexities—can be levelled just as fairly at Suite Vénitienne, The Address Book, and The Hotel. Like Auster, Calle presents her subjects as simplified versions of themselves, and treats them like fictional characters in a narrative she remains in control of.

It is, I think, this relieving of complications that is most disturbing and, in the end, most painful. Should we find ourselves the subject of an artist’s gaze, most of us would like them to see the whole of us, to render us fairly and try to understand our complexities. Unfortunately, the artist’s motive is often more to do with projecting or reflecting a part of themselves rather than reaching an empathetic understanding of their subjects. What they were looking for, really, is a mirror.

Dries Depoorter, Tinder In, 2015. Courtesy of the artist.

In the play between the private and the public, artists have both the ability and the right to provoke, shock, and disturb. What we often fail to recognize, however, is that by giving them a platform, it is us as viewers who have bestowed this position of power upon them. By consuming and applauding Calle’s early works, we effectively opened our own curtains to Svenson and gave our profile photos to Depoorter. Perhaps the question is not whether artists have the right to invade our privacy or cause us harm, but why we’ve allowed them to.

I’m not proud of what I did to Laura back in grad school. A decade later, I’m appalled by my callousness and can hardly remember my own justifications. But I do remember the surprise I felt at her anger. I remember expecting her to understand, wanting her to acknowledge my cleverness, to think about the nuances of privacy and trust, and sense as I did the precarious power wielded by the word “art.” I wonder if it is this kind of optimistic thinking that drives Calle and other artists. For those who have devoted their lives to their work, perhaps it doesn’t seem so extraordinary for them to imagine others should be willing to devote theirs, too.

from Artsy News

[beacon-of-chaos]

Defenders of Aura 2 - A Battle Century G Sequel

Session 7

(I’m kinda behind here, the campaign is already complete, will post session 8 tomorrow and get to work on the rest later)

We finish sorting through Victor's files. There's some interesting stuff about the nature of dark space in there; worth noting is the fact that Aura was once considered part of dark space and in fact still is by the nomads; There are several gas giants in dark space that are decaying like the one we fought the cultists in; and nearly everyone who goes into dark space either vanishes or goes insane. Looks like we were the lucky ones (or were we? Spectre seems to be plotting something and Sinclair has a voice in his head). There are also mentions of the Ebon Order, the group tasked with exploring dark space and taking out cultists. They've been doing their job for over a thousand years and it seems that they are fitted with far greater technology than they should for their missions. Interesting. No wonder Victor was so eager to join. Ultimately though, this doesn't help us find him. What Spectre does find is some kind of advanced energy pistol keyed to his bio-signature and some kind of device that seems to have some kind of temporal effect, though he doesn't know what yet. We get a message telling us that Quentin Crisp wants to meet with us again. We head to one of his hideouts in another bar, this one apparantly abandoned. Inside is Mr. Crisp and his associate, the android from the boxing ring. Crisp has hatched a plan to get us some technology, take out a key member of the coup, and make a show of force to potentially attract more rebels to our cause. There's a technology exhibition going on in the upper city; a huge hall filled with the latest advances in both civilian and military hardware. We're going to get inside, steal one of their new mech protypes, destroy the others, and assassinate Adrian Jeminko, a general in the army and Jasmine Jeminko's father. In exchange for doing this Crisp will get us the parts we need and talk to his associates about getting us some extra muscle. None of us are eager to take part in an assassination, especially Fauna, but Crisp assures us that Jeminko is not a good person and has been involved in several war crimes. We decide to check this later. As the others plan the mission out, Sinclair is approached by the other android who has a personal mission for him. She introduces herself as Morgana and tells him that there will be a new android being unveiled at this exhibition; another of her line. She wants Sinclair to grab this android and bring it back to her. Sinclair asks why and she says that she wants to meet her "brother". Sinclair is willing to do this but asks what she offers in exchange as this may be difficult to do during the current mission. She says that she is programmed for statistics analysis and probability but has never really had a chance to use her abilities to their full potential. Analysing data from a war appeals to her, so she will join the Argo's crew as an assistant if we aid her. Sinclair agrees. We spend a long time planning the mission. Stealth is not an option here as we need to make a show of force to convince others to join us. As such we will drop into the convention hall in our mechs through the skylight. Spectre offers to make some of his knockout gas that we can use to stun some of the guards and civilians that will be there, making our job a little bit easier. Razorinth is still back at the enclave so Katari will drop down on foot and make his way to the security centre to take it over and close off the area and prevent reinforcements from arriving too quickly. Sinclair gets in touch with Ajihra who is able to do some digging and find the codes to get into the security room. Fauna will use her vines to slow down the reinforcements. Spectre and Sinclair will deal with the automated defences in their mechs. As Lucis is away, Juyon has agreed to fill in as an extra combatant. In preparation for the mission, Katari gets himself a new sword and some industrial sawblades (The GM insists that he won't be able to throw them hard enough to damage a mech but allows him to take them anyway). After planning we talk to the President about the plan and ask about Adrian Jeminko. DuClair agrees that Adrian is not the kind of person anyone will miss though he believes that Quentin Crisp likely has a grudge against this man. Fauna noted that Crisp had an unusual energy to him that felt like he had been exposed to some kind of biological weapon, the cause of his limp and why he wears a mask. The president suggests that this narrows things down and Crisp is likely Crispen Gallahad, previously a high ranking member of the Camelot army. He lost his son in an accident several years ago, an accident he blamed Adrian Jeminko for. Gallahad went public and attempted to prosecute Jeminko but never got anywhere so he took it upon himself to try and kill his enemy with a bio-weapon. The attempt backfired though, and Gallahad was presumed to have accidently killed himself. Clearly he wants to finish the job he started. Before we start the mission, Sinclair asks Fauna for some help with his magic training. Fauna doesn't really understand Sinclair's power, though neither does Sinclair so he assures her that he doesn't mind. The two do some practice meditation in which Sinclair reaches out with his mind to the world around him. Fauna's energy is noticable to him and while he doesn't really understand what he's looking at, he feels as though he has gained a measure of control over his own power. The GM states that Sinclair has learned the magic skill "Energy". Sinclair: What does it do? GM: You have no idea. (I had to pay 20 character points for it though so it had better be good!) The time comes and we put the plan into action. We manage to sneak out of the city in a drop ship provided by Crisp and we get to our mechs. We drop into the exhibition hall through the skylight as planned. What wasn't planned, however, was that we would immediately be surrounded by four enemy mechs. Sinclair engages the mech standing in between the group and the security room, allowing Katari to jump from his mech over it, but not without using his sword to slash at the mech's optics on the way. Fauna entangles two of the mechs in vines that travel from Wyrdwood's body, under the ground, and then back up and around the enemies' legs. Spectre blasts them with his bazooka, rolling well enough that he destroys a chunk of the wall behind them too, and even takes out one of the protype mechs we were meant to destroy. Juyon takes a shot at the fourth enemy and we take some fire from a security turret set up in the corner. The knockout gas canister made by Spectre drops into the hall and puts the remaining attendees and guards to sleep. Adrian Jeminko's bodyguards seem to have been prepared for this and they give him a gas mask and shuffle him away from the podium where he was giving a speech. Spectre uses his flamethrower to cut off the escape route. While those of us in the mechs fight, Katari uses some explosive charges to blast his way into the corridor where the secuirty room is. He immediately rushes in through the smoke and is able to get the drop on the the guards. He takes a few bullets but this is Katari we're talking about, so he just shrugs off the damage and moves on. Back in the exhibition hall, reinforcements have started to arrive. Adrian's bodyguards have gotten him to one of the mechs which is trying to make a break for it. Sinclair distracts the enemy mechs while moving to where the new android is being displayed. Juyon and Spectre continue to deal damage while Fauna moves to the prototype mechs so she can place a tracking beacon on one, which will allow our dropship to pick it up. Katari races down the hallway, gets to the security room, and punches in the code to open the doors. He is met by three guards and an officer of some kind, all of whom open fire on him. He's hit badly and knocked back. His super-strength helps him a little but he's now bleeding badly. He flings the saw blades he was carrying (with the covers still on as he doesn't want to kill them) and manages to knockout two of them before the others move in on him. Outside, further reinforcements have arrived, serious reinforcments this time. It's Jasmine Jeminko and her entourage. She rushes forwards and manages to pin both Spectre and Juyon in the same maneuver. Jeminko: Where's the dragon!? I want a rematch! Fauna: He's not here, you can go away now! By this point however Sinclair has managed to grab the android and Fauna has placed the tracker on the prototype. Adrian's mech is also down, so Fauna uses her vines to open up the cockpit and drag him out, alive, and place him in Wyrdwood's hold. The dropship arrives so we blast the remaining prototypes and begin our escape. We desperately try to raise Katari on the radio. No response. We reluctantly leave while Jasmine screams at us to give back her father. GM: You haven't been captured. Katari: I haven't? GM: And you're not dead either. I'll tell you what happened to you... later! End of session! Our GM loves a good cliffhanger. Bonus quotes: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/shows...&postcount=632