Merry Christmas!! It’s officially the start of Christmas season (before the 25th, it was Advent season).
THE SIMPSONS NEWS
I had the week off this week. I turned in the last of my work on Thursday and started on the Couch Gag for the episode on Friday. It’s actually really difficult. I was given til Monday of next week to finish it, so first thing Monday, I’ve got to get cracking.
BUT last week I found out, one of my co-worker, Liz Heck, has gotten on Tumbler. Her plan is to update it two times a week with her own art.
As I mentioned last week, my wife Alesha is doing her blog tour this week, with an end of the world theme. The first post was on post-apocalyptic recipes. If you have one, feel free to participate.
I’ve participated with a different kind of contribution. I wrote the top three essential things you need, in order to survive in a post-apocalyptic world. Here’s a sneak peek:
And if you leave a comment on there, you have a chance to win a $5 amazon gift certificate.
FAMILY
It was a very busy Christmas. Our family tends to celebrate the 24th AND the 25th. We usually stay up til midnight on the 24th but this year, with the kids, it was impossible. The thing is, even though Christmas eve was very different then the way we have been used to celebrating it, it seemed so much more Christmas-y. This year, we went out of our way to really focus on the kids having a good time. And they did.
The big focus of the Christmas Eve party, was the coming of Santa Claus to the house. The kids didn’t know he was coming, but we gave him the invite. It was all going to begin with the kids sitting around the living room as I read them a Christmas book. In this case, it was THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS. That went relatively well. My nephew Paolo was his usual, over curious, excited self, and couldn’t stop moving but all the other kids were surprisingly attentive. Including my one year old, Ambrose, who had never had story time before. He sat and listened quietly. I was very surprised. I got to start reading to that little kid.
Once I was done reading, the kids where asked to sing Jingle Bells. It was going great until someone turned up the music. At first, everyone thought it was Jingle Bells and we all sang along until we realized it WASN’T Jingle Bells but something else. It threw everyone off and killed the singing. Luckily, around that time, there was a knock on the door and Santa showed up. He had his sack full of presents and all the kids got really excited. My daughter Elizabeth was jumping up and down with excitement. It was fun. They all got called up one by one to get a present and sit on Santa’s lap.
Lots of pictures and a little bit of crying. Especially from Ambrose, who was pretty sleepy by that point. That was a lot of fun. I’m glad that we did it. I think the worst part of the night, for me, was around the time Santa was going to leave. My three year old, Dante, heard my uncle say Santa had to go because his reindeer where waiting. Well, Dante REALLY wanted to go out see them. I ended up telling him that Santa didn’t really bring the deer. I told him he came by car today. He didn’t believe me, so I had to take him outside to show him there where no reindeer. He was disappointed. That really stunk. It made him sad. Which makes me want to rant about the whole Santa Claus thing, but I’ll save that til the end of this post.
We left the party around 11pm. We had eaten late and the kids had been starving. We should have thought to feed them before we left. Even so, around 8pm or so, Ambrose was an emotional mess. He was so tired, he just wanted me to carry him everywhere, which was a pain since he’s getting heavy. I also wanted to do thing, like eat, and it made it difficult when he just wanted to be on top of me being fussy. So we left early and by the time we where getting ready for bed, it was Christmas.
On Christmas morning, the kids got up and opened presents. There weren’t very many of them. In fact, most of them came from the dollar store. Only one didn’t, CARS SORRY SLIDERS. The kids really liked SORRY SLIDERS and I thought they’d get a kick out of having the Cars one because they call the SORRY SLIDERS the “racer game” anyway. Might as well give them a real “racer game”. Elizabeth was disapionted in her presents (for good reason) mostly because she didn’t get a doll. that kinda annoyed me because she has a ton of them and they just sit there because she doesn’t play with them. Why those she want another one to ignore?
We ate breakfast and tried to get ready as soon as we could. We had a few stops to make that day. We had planned to go to 9am Mass but we weren’t quite ready on time for it. I went alone and Alesha went to the 11am Mass. Around 1pm we were off to Alesha’s sister’s house. According to Alesha, we were there mostly to eat her sister’s gumbo. It was REALLY GOOD. It even had crab legs. The kids played a bit and then watched me play PLANT VS. ZOMBIES, or as they call it, “The bzombie game” (don’t know why they pronounce it with a “b”.
After that, it was off to Alesha’s grandmother’s house. We got there and visited for a while. The kids where all over me because they get bored there. On top of the fact that they were hungry. It was getting close to dinner time. After what seemed like a very long time, we left. We actually had one more stop to make. We had actually stopped off at Alesha’s sister’s house to pick up a document that she needed to take to an aunt’s house. We were going to go there only Alesha forgot to get the document. We canceled that stop and headed over to my parent’s house. We where going to celebrate Christmas there and open the rest of the kid’s presents. We ate there, opened presents and generally had a good time there. Alesha was so tired, I think she slept through most of it. She had done all the driving that day.
We left around 10pm. The kid’s where pretty tired. They had gotten some really great presents. Elizabeth got her doll so she was satisfied.
It was a busy, but fun, kid-centric Christmas and somehow, it was that much better for it.
SANTA CLAUS RANT
I’ve never really been a fan of the whole Santa Claus thing. I’ve been trying to avoid telling my kids that their presents are from Santa, but the culture makes it difficult to do that. I used to tell them Baby Jesus gave them the presents, which to me, is actually true. I suppose, it’s not a lie to say that Santa is real, if by Santa, you mean Saint Nicholas. Since he’s a Saint in heaven before the presence of God and therefore more alive than WE are. And I suppose we can say that it’s through his intercession (by which I mean his prayer for us to God) that we we give them presents. Still…it kinda bugs me, since Santa Claus and Saint Nick are often not thought to be the same person. After all, the popular image of Santa that we have in our heads, was actually made popular by Coca Cola billboards. Before that, there was no definitive Santa Claus look. It was easier to say, it’s Saint Nick back then.
Maybe I’m thinking about this too hard. What do you think?
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Oh boy, tough week this week. I was running behind on my board since I started it late last week. On top of that there were some writing changes that the director questioned. The problem was that a line was changed in the dialogue but the scene took place in a different location with slightly different action. The director was wondering if it was necessary to change the location at all since the scene worked fine in the original location. It would speed up the process and make less work for everyone. That was a big question that the director needed to ask the head director and I wasn’t sure if I needed to work on that new section or not. There were also a few things that the assistant director fixed in layout that I wasn’t suppose to fix in the boards. The problem with that is, it throws me off a bit. I’m not sure when I’m done revising the board or not and it’s very confusing. So I just turned in what I did and hoped it was what was needed from me. Later on that day, the director came over an we hashed out what was needed to finish the act. That helped a lot.
I started Act 2 after that, which, lucky for me, had less rewrites. That went a little smoother. Still, it really stressed me out in the previous weekend since I knew that there were a lot of “spinning plates” left to spin when I started work this week. At least, next week, I have a day off.
December 26-31, my wife, Alesha, will be going on a blog tour with an end of the world theme. Keep an out of for it. I’ll be making a small contribution for it.
Little by little, technology is creeping into board games. As it is, there are already tons of board games that can be played on: iPhone, iPads, and Androids. It was only a matter of time before board game pieces would start being introduced for these devices. Behold, the signs of things to come.
This video shows playing pieces that can be used to play board games on the iPad, using the iPad as the board. It’s called, the iPawn:
This video shows an interesting hybrid board game designed and developed on the Microsoft Surface by a student for a master thesis supervised by MiWi’s colleague. The game uses the Surface, Android phones, and other components. It’s a very odd board game about evolution or something. The video is in German, I believe but just watching what they do with the devices is fascinating.
ART
I was having so much trouble working on my thumbnails for my storyboard. I wasn’t sure why. It’s not like it was the first time I’d ever storyboarded something. It’s very similar to doing comics. So why was I having so much trouble? Turns out, I wasn’t asking myself what I usually do. Once I asked myself that, I realized, I usually sit down, with the hard copy of the script in hand and start doodling all over it as I read the script. I do this and, often, I put in a movie or TV show I’ve already seen, just to have something in the background that may or may not give me ideas for shots. It’s also nice to have something to look at when I want to rest my brain.
Once I realized that’s usually what I did, I printed out a copy of my script and, instead of using Post-Its like I did last week, I just drew on my script.
I worked beautifully. I put on MACROSS: FRONTIER and began drawing on my script. I managed to finish quite a bit of work that way. Okay, so, even though I wasn’t planning on posting my script here on my blog, it seems I going to do it anyway in order to show you the work I got done this week. So here’s the first page of my script. I doubt you’ll understand what my thumbnails are about, but the point is show you my process, so here it is:
Drawing on the margins forces me to draw tiny, which saves time since there’s less pencil mileage. I actually get more done.
Originally, I was planning to do all the audio recording before I started boarding. Since I couldn’t find a good way to record though, I decided to go straight into the boards. Turns out that was a good thing. I’ve found I change a lot of the script around depending on what I need the visuals to be.
MOVIES
Oh, and one more thing, this trailer premiered Tuesday night:
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I finished my board revisions early last week and was moved to doing story reel work on the Halloween episode for the rest of the week. I even kept doing it on Monday because the revised script of the episode I was going to started on this week, was late. I finally got to work on the new episode on Tuesday. I really like this episode. It’s heart warming and nice. We should do shows like this more often.
His latest endeavor is an iPad/iPhone app for artists. It’s a pose book, but not a pose book. It’s like a traditional pose book in that it has models posing so an artist can use it as reference for their art BUT it uses the fact that it’s not a book to go well beyond what a pose book can do. The best way to understand what this means is for Steve Silver to explain it himself:
I’m impressed. That’s really innovative. This is just the beginning of what artists like Steve Silver will begin coming up with in this new medium. I wonder what will come next?
If you want to see more from this app, CLICK HERE for the official page.
ART/Storyboarding
Production has officially begun on my Illustrated Film (as opposed to what I’ve been doing which is PRE-production). I’ve started the storyboard process. The first day I started it, I stared at my treatment, I stared at my script, and thought,
“I sooo don’t want to do this”. I forced myself to do it. I opened up the storyboarding program (Storyboard Pro) and stared at it. Nothing came to me. My mind was a blank. I felt tired. I have a very difficult time doing creative thinking in front of a computer,
“How do I usually start a board or a comic?” I looked around, “Oh yeah, I sit down somewhere comfortable and draw scribbles on a script, sketchbook or notepad”. I sat down on the couch we have here in our office and stared blankly at the large Post-it pad on my lap. “Where do I begin? What’s the best opening shot? How should I introduce the characters? Should it be an establishing shot? Should I show where the characters are and then cut close? Should I start with a close up of the characters and then reveal the environment? Why? Do I gain anything from either one that the other doesn’t give me? What’s this place suppose to look like again?” I was tired already and I hadn’t even started. I took out my sketchbook where I’d drawn all the designs and opened to the page where I had the rough “floor plan” of the environment:
Okay, that helped a little. I decided to start with an establishing shot. I drew it, it stunk:
I started again:
Better…done for the day. I hoped next time it would get easier.
It didn’t.
The next time, it felt just like the last time. I forced myself to do it again. Before I did though, I looked at some storyboard books I have. Not books ON storyboards but published storyboards by some of my favorite board artist. Namely Hayao Miyazaki and Katsuhiro Otomo. I looked at them, just to see how they used establishing shots. You see, I was still not sure about how I should start my boards. My script, as written, didn’t take into account an establishing shot. I was envisioning starting close on Rob’s stomach. That wouldn’t have worked though. I rewrote the script.
I had a great time. It was fun. I suddenly remembered why I was doing this, because it’s fun.
I’m still working through the shots and what will go where and why, but I now have something to work off of. I found that simply drawing the first shots the came to my head, was a good way to start. By simply drawing shots, in no particular order, I was able to start looking at them and piece them together so that they would make a story. I’d check my script and my treatment and then go and just draw shots. Then I’d stare at them and try to piece them together. I’d even change the script when I added stuff that wasn’t there.
So here’s what all the brain storming looked like by the time I was done. It was a big mess of Post-its all over the place so I tried to put them in some semblance of order:
Yeah, it’s difficult to tell what’s going on. Like I said, it’s just brainstorming. It’s just about throwing out as many visual ideas as I can so I get have the most to choose from. I’ll be continuing with this next week. I think the hardest part will be keeping track of all the thumbnails. It’s gonna take a while.
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Thankfully, I’ve had a light work load week this week. Mostly working on a Couch Gag. I’m sure the next episode I get put on will not be this way.
The holidays are coming up and that means we get some days off. This SHOULD be a good thing, but it rarely ever is. The reason being that, even though we get some days off, our deadlines stay the same. This generally means that we have the same amount of work to do in less days AND with less people (since some people take more time off).
I really hope the next episode I work on, has the same level of re-writes as the episode I’m on right now.
PODCASTS
I’m gonna be telling you about the PAPER WINGS podcast today. I don’t think I’ve brought up this podcast before.
The PAPER WINGS podcast is a podcast hosted by Chris Oatley and Lora Innes. The point of the podcast is to help you become a better artist and land your dream job in comics or animation. It’s one of the best podcast around when it comes to this topic. It’s a very positive and inspiring podcast, full of great information and advice.
Earlier this week I was catching up on some past episodes when I got to episode #17. It’s titled: Creator Interview with Comfort Love and Adam Withers, where in they do exactly that, interview the husband and wife team who write and draw the Harvey Award nominated comic, THE UNIQUES. I have to say, it’s one of the BEST interviews about creating and making a living off of your own comic creations I’ve ever heard. I listened to it in my car on my way home from work and my jaw was on the floor from all the fantastic information in this interview.
If you’re an aspiring artist and creator, this is a MUST listen.
Finished designing the last demon for my project! That’s it, no more things to design (that I’m aware of). I can finally get to the ACTUAL production of my film. Next week I’ll begin storyboarding my film. I have yet to record myself, and to be honest, as things stand with my crumby computers, I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I’ll figure something out though.
Okay, so here’s the design:
It’s not much to look at I’m afraid. The design needs to be a tad more work but it’s what I want.
Okay so this was one of the toughest designs I’ve had to do. I kinda had something in mind but when I tried it, it fell apart on me. Since the theme of this demon was blades, I wanted to draw something that fit the theme visually. I began with the sketch up top on the right. I was thinking I wanted to have a creepy head where you can only see it’s ugly mouth and the rest of it would be blades, but what I drew was not what I wanted and it would have been a pain in the neck to draw all those blades all the time. So I thought, maybe if it was armored, but then I realized it didn’t say “blades” to me, so I began experimenting with having the armor be sharp. That’s why it has those sharp looking shoulder pads. Thing is, I didn’t want to have to draw all those sharp things over and over. It would have made it too complicated to have made it look right.
I went to my reference folder that I keep, which has photos that I thought would inspire me. It had some creepy looking gas masks and I thought maybe I would use that as a theme and maybe have tentacles or something coming out of it. This is what I started drawing on the top left of the page. I really didn’t like any of it though and I gave up.
The next day, I went online for inspiration. I looked at photos and I was getting nothing, until I came across another gas mask but this one seemed hand made and all torn up. My original idea kept creeping back into my head, of having a head with only a creepy mouth showing. I combined the feel of the gas mask from the photo with the mouth showing idea and stuck two blades in the eyes. I thought it was creepy. But then, it needed a body. I just started drawing, something gaunt and thin but when it came to the one hand, I thought I’d give it blade fingers, then the other, I thought I’d do something else and gave it a blade arm, as if he might have gotten it cut off and replaced it with the blade. Finally, I thought I’d give it stitches, so it seemed as if it cut itself a lot, by accident.
That was it. I liked it. I might need to mess with it a little to streamline the design but It’s pretty much what I wanted.
So now that I’m FINALLY done with pre-production, it’s to time to get to the good part…
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I started my week by finishing up a very special Couch Gag. It was 14 shots long and it took me all day to do. Lucky for me, the episode I started on this week has one of the smallest rewrites I’ve seen in a long time. It’s such a small rewrite that I might be done too early. If I do finish early, I hope I don’t get put on something that too high pressure. I hate that.
I was assigned Act 1 and the Couch Gag. The director is thinking that the last two Acts of the show might not even be given to us since it’s such a small rewrite on them. Still, I don’t know why not. We can still adjust whatever needs adjusting. It’s our job.
I’m thankful for these light rewrites. They help us recover from the heavier, high pressure weeks and give us a little chance to breath and go home on time.
ART
Continuing from where I left off last week, I decided to give the vampire bat skeleton a try. I left out the eyes and eye sockets and gave the skull a slightly more human shape:
I think this is it. I’m happy with how weird it looks. The final version might be a bit more “pushed” in it’s basic shape and design, but rather than fine tune the design, I think I’ll move on to last demon design. I want to get to the story board process as soon as I can.
BOOKS
Chapter 5 of my wife’s book THE TOWER’S ALCHEMIST is below. This is the last chapter out of twenty one, I’m posting up. The story is just getting started. If you’ve enjoyed the story so far, please feel free to download a digital copy or buy a hard copy from Amazon. We’d really appreciate it:
Penn Margaux bootlegged liquor, smuggled weapons, and proclaimed to be a spy from Orleans—but for what it was worth, he wasn’t on the Gestapo’s side. I’ve known him for as long as I’ve been working with SOE and he had always managed to obtain information for me when no one else could or hand me a passport at the last minute. I had even bought ingredients off him that I needed for some spells.
I would usually reach him through La Dame Rouge—the Red Lady, Jasmine Léon. She had become a wildly popular entertainer at the Éclat nightclub after moving to Paris. While some of the locals believed that the Gestapo didn’t shut down the club due to the threat of an utter uprising (they adored the Red Lady), the truth was that Éclat served as a useful tool for the enemy in the constant game of espionage. The danger lay in the presence of Gestapo agents, both uniformed and plainclothes. They knew half the spies in there and have blackmailed some into working for them or betraying employers when it suited their interests.
I once knew a spy from Madrid who claimed he was sent to gauge how things were going in France. Though Spain claimed neutrality, the Gestapo didn’t like General Franco sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, and so as the spy left Éclat one night, two agents followed him to a woman’s house—his French sweetheart. The problem was that the spy had a wife back in Spain. They used this information against him and forced him to spy on the Spanish government and even other spies who came into Éclat. I guess he couldn’t take it any longer because one day his Gestapo handlers found him hanging from his necktie in his hotel room.
This taught me to keep a low profile and carefully craft a persona that blended in easily with the many young women who patronized the club. This also reminded me to remain aware of the fact that people still watched me just like the others at the club, which meant that I would have to be careful when leaving, and I certainly wouldn’t leave with a man. But as foolish and single-minded as many men were, I’ve seen several leave with women from the club without a thought.
When evening fell I hailed a taxi to take me down to Éclat. Well, I had to stand near the chapel and flag one down. I kept brushing off my dress and feeling like something was crawling down my back. I swore that I’d find a workable invisibility potion so that I could just go straight to Renée’s front door instead of through that creepy underground tunnel. I felt I needed the cab because it would’ve been awkward to approach the club on foot, and nothing screamed I’m a Spy Who Doesn’t Belong Here like pulling up on a foldable bike and trying to get into a swanky Parisian nightclub.
I wore a slinky purple gown and a black sequined wrap—and of course, my Agate stone ring, which I never took off. Renée had to beg me to wear full eye makeup but I must admit that I liked the rouge on my cheeks and lips, and my hairstyle. I looked damned good if I did say so myself. I checked my makeup in a compact mirror one last time before tossing it into my purse and instructing the bloated taxi driver to halt.
“If you leave that club alone tonight,” he said facing me, “out of compassion I will take you home with me.”
“Go to hell.” I threw him a few francs and slipped out. Maybe I looked a little too good.
I strutted toward the entrance like I was a Hollywood starlet, making sure to give the doormen a wink and a smile. They readily admitted me and I came in just as Jasmine began singing Blue Moon up on stage. People swayed to the music, oblivious to the haziness created by cigarette smoke. The scent of perfume wafted toward me and I narrowed my eyes as I silently critiqued or approved of some of the ladies’ choice in shoes.
I acknowledged a group of handsome guys at one of the tables with a smile, but kept it moving since most of them were spies. I could taste the essences of silverware, gold jewelry, and even guns. There were about twenty tables in there, and those closest to the stage were reserved for Jasmine’s most ardent admirers and paramours—or those pretending to be.
I nearly stumbled when I saw him sitting at one of those tables. At first I pretended not to see him, but then my gaze met his and I headed straight toward him like a moth to a flame. I probably shouldn’t have made a move to join him, but sitting in that area made it easier to keep an eye on who entered the club; besides, it looked like both of us had business with Jasmine tonight.
“Fancy seeing you here, Emelie.”
“It’s good to see you again, Drake.” His real name was Kenneth Aspen. He knew mine as well. We had obtained illegal copies of one another’s files after we first met, which wasn’t quite your typical romantic gesture.
“How long are you in Paris?” He pulled out a seat for me next to his and gently brushed his thumb against my cheek. I forced myself not to smile.
“I’m here long enough to enjoy the scenery.” I clapped along with the audience and gazed at Jasmine as she finished her ballad. She came down and stopped at a nearby table where an enthusiastic man with a thick mustache greeted her with flowers.
“The Boss sent me to take a look at some cars.” He took his seat and offered me some of his pochouse. I couldn’t refuse the stewed fish as it smelled delectable, having been cooked in red wine and flavored with a savory spice.
“Then I’m glad your Boss sent you.” I grabbed a knife and fork and dug in.
By “Boss,” he meant the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the American counterpart to SOE, and by “looking at cars,” he meant sabotaging factories that produced machinery and weapons for the Nazis. I thought I heard him say that I looked beautiful, but I was already on my feet welcoming Jasmine into my arms. We planted kisses on one another’s cheeks and gave each other a tight hug. As befitting her stage name, she wore a red rose in her hair and a scarlet dress.
“Well, look who’s in town!” She accepted a cigarette from a waiter passing by and asked for a lighter. Apparently both Ken and I had messages to slip her (conveniently hidden within our cigarette lighters) because we eagerly asked for her to keep them as gifts. She wiggled her way between us, lighting her cigarette with her own lighter and giving a rich, sultry laugh.
“I’ve missed you, Emelie…you too, Blondie.” She patted Ken’s cheek. I glanced toward the front entrance to see who entered and left before facing them again.
“By the way Jasmine, there’s another gift waiting for you in your dressing room.” He gave her a knowing look. It was probably the stipend OSS paid her for her services.
“Is it five thousand, like I asked?” She blew out a thin stream of smoke, her deep-set eyes watching Ken like a hawk.
“Would you mind telling me why you needed an extra two?”
“Things are getting tough around here.” She shifted toward me and lazily eyed the band that had started up a tune.
Ken leaned in. “I know about your side operation. For goodness’ sake, Jasmine, don’t get yourself killed.”
Not satisfied with just being an informant, she also took it upon herself to hide and smuggle stranded Ally soldiers across the border, Maquis resistance leaders with bounties on their heads, and Jews who’ve fled the slaughter in Czechoslovakia…anyone who needed it. I had always been meaning to ask her how she did it and who helped her.
She rolled her eyes and faced me. “How are you, Emelie?”
“I’m doing well, and I love being in Paris. Do you miss New York?” She acknowledged my code phrase referencing Paris, which meant that the city would be ripe with action within the next week or so, and that the Maquisards should be on alert. This time Ken watched the door.
“I’ll tell you what, I don’t miss performing in New York.” She faced Ken and I turned to watch the front. “Tell that to your Boss. Tell him as long as I can’t walk through the front door of a New York club that I’m performing in, then he can kiss my black ass and keep paying me my five grand.”
I smirked.
“Jasmine…” Ken began blustering.
“I know, I know—times are changing.” She fell back into her earlier jolly mood, welcoming the glasses of cocktails another waiter had brought over. “But I just love that Eleanor Roosevelt. Remember that incident a couple of years ago where she left that women’s organization and told them off because they were talking about being whites-only? Ha! We need more people like her!”
“Yes we do.” My cocktail glass chimed with hers in a toast and I drank.
I always hated when people told me not aspire to certain things because I was a woman. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be told this simply because of my skin color. One of the many things I’ve learned is when you’re holed up in a safe house with someone who doesn’t look like you or speak the same language, but who’s ready to break bread with you and even fight by your side, or when you’re alone in a foreign land and feel lost because you could barely communicate but by chance you run into someone who looked different but grew up in the same city as you and could talk with you for hours, you quickly realized that there were a lot more important things to gripe about, and at the end of the day people were just people—blood, sweat and tears, heart and soul.
“Jasmine,” Ken said, gazing at the front entrance, “get your things and go lock yourself in your dressing room. Emelie, I think our covers are blown.”
I looked toward the front and saw four Gestapo agents heading through. Ken covertly drew his pistol as Jasmine hid the cigarette lighters beneath her flowers and rose from her seat; she wasted no time in leaving the lounge.
The music died and people shied away or headed toward the exit. For a moment, I had hoped that the Gestapo were after someone else, but sure enough they came straight toward Ken and me. I felt the presence of other wizards as easily as I could detect metals, and despite the fact that the agents all wore black gabardine jackets with swastika armbands, I knew one or more of them were warlocks in disguise.
I turned back toward the table and immediately retrieved my golden knife from my purse and began carving the alchemical symbol for the sun on the table’s smooth surface. It was a simple circle with a dot in the middle, and since it dominated gold, any spells I performed would be amplified. I then carved next to it the zodiac sign for Libra, which would set off my Sublimation spell, which turned solids into gas. I charged the symbols with magical energy until they glowed and held off the effects until I was ready.
I looked at Ken. “Remember that crime lord in Cairo?”
“You mean the sadistic wacko who wanted to sell a ship-load of grenades up here to the Nazis? Yes, vaguely.”
I had to steady my hands from shaking. “And do you remember when he and his goons confronted us in that bar one night?”
In one smooth move he jumped away from the table and took a shot at one of the Gestapo agents. All remaining employees and patrons had finally broken into an open panic and evacuated the building. Two of the Gestapo officers shot back at him as he dove behind the bar for cover, while the other two agents—the warlocks—came after me. I used more of my energy to create an invisible shield with my Agate stone ring, which helped deflect bullets.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood when I saw the warlocks approaching with searing red daggers. I had seen less fortunate wizards hit with those, and as soon as it touched a person’s flesh, the skin would tear and fold, and blood would sizzle and spill forth. Though my stomach churned and all I could hear was the distant sound of gunfire, I reassured myself with the fact that at least these two warlocks weren’t Black Wolves.
With a swift move of his arm, the warlock on the right sent a red-hot dagger flying toward me as he charged. I dodged the blazing weapon by dropping to the floor and then grabbing hold of him. I flipped him over and made him land on the other side of me with a thud. I quickly rolled in the direction of my table where I had carved my symbol. The other warlock flung another fiery dagger toward me and I released the Sublimation spell, letting the flames mingle with the gas accumulated in order to create an explosion. The building shook as I dashed away to avoid the blast, and I took cover behind the bar where Ken had been. One of the Gestapo agents that had engaged Ken lay dead by a doorway that led to an emergency hall exit. I could hear a physical fight ensuing in the hallway.
I began coughing from the smoke that filled the room from the fire and knew that I had to leave the lounge if I wanted to keep breathing. On hands and knees, I peaked around the corner of the bar and saw only one of the warlocks still standing. The bastard had been waiting for me and spun a pestilential black mist that flew straight toward me. I didn’t jerk back quickly enough to completely escape it and grunted in pain when my eyes burned. My vision blurred and darkened to black—I had been blinded.
In a panic I rushed toward the doorway, tripping over the dead agent’s body and bracing my fall with my hands. I crawled in the direction where I remembered the door to be and heard the warlock’s footsteps and heavy breathing. I stiffened and timed the swing of my leg just in time to kick him. I didn’t know where my stiletto landed, but the kick stunned him and I got back onto my feet and rushed through the doorway and staggered down the hallway.
Believe it or not, I began to worry. I wondered why the warlock hadn’t blasted me with another spell since I was vulnerable and running blind. When the obvious answer dawned on me, I started running even faster. I cursed when I stubbed my toe against a utility box against the wall in the hallway and nearly lost my balance. The warlock caught up to me and I swung my knife and drove the blade into him. He cried out in pain and struck me; I hit the wall with a smack and tried to pry his forearm away from my neck.
I quickly froze when I felt the blade of my golden knife sweep across my cheek. I could hear his harsh breathing and felt the heat of his breath near my neck. I squirmed when he made a cut across my shoulder with the knife.
“God, no…” My voice grew hoarse and I was sick to my stomach. With revulsion I felt his mouth on my wound, lapping up the blood flow.
A single gunshot reverberated throughout the hallway and I jolted. I felt the pull of his body as we both slid down and hit the floor.
“Isabella! What happened?” I heard footsteps and knew that it was Ken who rushed to my side. I heard a rustling of clothes and felt his jacket being wrapped around me as he helped me to my feet.
“Ken…” My darkened sight seemed to spin in gray and red colors all about me. I tried to speak but my throat burned with every syllable uttered.
“That’s a nasty cut you have. We need to get you patched up quick to stop the bleeding.”
“Ken…”
“What is it?” He held me with a firm grip and pulled me along down the hallway.
“Cut his head off.”
“What?”
People in the normal world called them vampires. To wizards, they were a nasty bunch of warlocks called Cruenti. Blood Magic was one of the most powerful forms of magic, and Cruenti fed off of other wizards. They drank wizards’ blood to cast spells, enhance their own powers…and to regenerate from gunshot wounds.
“Hurry up and do it before we both die.”
I imagined that he must’ve looked at me as if I had gone crazy, but he didn’t bother to argue. I gripped the extra pistol he pressed into my hand and was about to tell him that I couldn’t see anything, but decided to say nothing so as to not delay him. I heard him go over to what sounded like the utility box and he opened it, probably grabbing an axe, and stalked toward the Cruenti.
I heard his nervous breaths, and then a pause. “He’s dead.”
Suddenly I heard Ken shout in disgust and shock, and the Cruenti roared as repeated thuds filled the hallway. I visualized the sickening tearing of flesh and crushing of bone, and forced myself to speak when I heard Ken’s attack cease.
“Did you get him?”
He breathed heavily and the axe clattered against the floor down the other end of the hall. “Yeah…I got him.”
“Do you see my knife?”
“Erm…do you still want it?”
“Please? I’d get it myself but he blinded me with a spell.” I heard him make a low grunt and grab my knife, and then he walked back toward me in quick strides. My legs grew weak and my head throbbed and grew feverish. I sank to my knees and pressed my hand against the wall for support.
“Let’s get out of here and get you healed.” Though his voice shook, his hold on me remained firm. Under any other circumstances I would’ve refused to let him carry me, but my legs felt like rubber and I could barely stay conscious.
“Got a first aid kit in your car?” I hissed through clenched teeth as the cool evening air stung my exposed wound. I heard sirens blare and fire trucks pull up toward the front of the club.
“Yeah, but baby…you’re going to need a lot more than that.”
“Renée Apolline…my jade powder.”
“I’ll get you there.”
“Thank you.” I shut my eyes and leaned into him as I closed out the spinning gray and red colors. I hoped that the jade powder would completely restore my sight.
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