Calligraphy
I do not have Idea where this pictures comes from (pointers welcome), but it sure works as a prompt – for anything from fantasy to espionage by way of romance.
What’s the story here?
I do not have Idea where this pictures comes from (pointers welcome), but it sure works as a prompt – for anything from fantasy to espionage by way of romance.
What’s the story here?
Paleontologist. By day, researcher, teacher and ecological statistics guru. By night, pulp fantasy author-publisher, translator and blogger. In the spare time, Orientalist Anonymous, guerilla cook.
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27 September 2013 at 12:14
I don’t know where the Hell you find such images but I’ve to say that this one got me started. It will be nice to be able to read that ideograms!
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27 September 2013 at 17:46
Alas, translating this kind of writing is beyond my very limited knowledhe of written Japanese…
But go on, make the text up and write something!
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2 October 2013 at 00:10
Masanhappo-gu – May 26th, 1905
The rich smell of green tea was enough to force him off the futon, it was still dark, a good hour before sunset. Rebel slowly got his dark blue kimono and followed the smell in the next room. There he stopped, his grey eyes full of beauty once again.
Aiko didn’t look at him, her gaze focused on the thin paintbrush. For a moment the only sound was given by the ink on her perfect skin. Rebel knew about her power, about her way to focus Teleforce through hideograms on her skin. Aiko could interfere with the near future, the more she wrote, the more she got. That put a price on her, her lifeforce was consumed heavily in the action.
Rebel had never seen so many hideograms on her before that morning.
«So, this is it. You’re going away today.»
She didn’t answer.
«I suppose you’re ready to embark on Mikasa, with your patron the admiral Tōgō Heihachirō.»
«My country needs me. Of all people in the West, you can understand that.»
He did. No matter how much he loved her, he did.
«You know you will not come back, don’t you?»
She smiled, a shadow on her eyes.
Rebel Yell walked away, then dressed again as an American. Under his leather jacket he tucked her last gift, a Type-26 revolver, then left the house without a word.
When the first light of the day illuminated the harbour he saw the Mikasa, with a number of other ships, leave against high waves. Nobody saw him crying.
Daremoga kare no gimu o hatasaneba naranai, everyone must do his duty. No matter where the Hell was located that nihonkai-kaisen or tsushima-kaisen written all over her back.
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2 October 2013 at 00:14
Great stuff!
[Hope you don’t mind if I edit some minor glitches.]
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2 October 2013 at 09:03
I don’t mind at all. 🙂
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2 October 2013 at 11:25
Lovely piece! Thanks, Angelo!
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2 October 2013 at 11:40
You have to thank Davide instead; Rebel Yell is an inspiring character and this image was too good to ignore it as a writing prompt.
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2 October 2013 at 11:43
Let’s say we are a good team 😉
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2 October 2013 at 11:57
We have a deal, guys! 😀
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