We’re doing bi-ped 3D characters the next month, and this week we’re working on the design. The thing is, that our current teacher has a reputation for being a lil’ bit misogynistic, and wanting female characters to have boobs, fluttering eyelashes and long legs, or else the audience won’t read them as female~
So I went ahead and came up with the most androgynous female futuristic pirate captain I could think of, just to shove it in his face.

These are my first two drafts.


All of these things - porcelain, books. All so goddamn fragile. The energy it must take to maintain it all. And for what?

I can understand a woman’s desire for domesticity, but a man’s?

I can’t understand how you cannot understand.

Bid Ye Soft Farewell- Ch. 4

What? Two chapters in 24 hours?! Just for you guys! :)

Find all chapters here!

Chapter 4: Si Delapsa Ero Resurgam

           Jamie entered the damp brig, the torch lights throwing shadows against the wooden walls. He peeked through the bars that held her. She was dirty, her face and hands smeared with black smudges. The clean areas of her skin, though, stood out brightly against the darkness, pale as the moon. She lounged languidly on the hanging bench, speaking softly her herself. Her hands were tied in front of her. She paid no mind to him; many of the men had come to see her in the past hour. He was no different.

           She spoke then, soft enough that he didn’t hear. He turned to her then. She stared straight at him when she said this, her hawk eyes making him feel quite like a mouse.

           “I’m sorry? I didna quite catch that lass.”

           “I’m not a lass.” Her voice was clear and clipped. English lady, indeed. “I’d wager I’m older than you, kit.”


           “Yes, tis a name for a baby fox. It fits you, I think.” She was taunting him; a small grin curving her lips, pulling at the scar on her cheek. He would not give her the satisfaction of his irritation, though.

           “My name is Jamie.”

           “Red Jamie, are you?” With this, she sat up and her eyes grew wide, enhancing her owlish appearance.

           “No, ye must be mistaken. I didna ken who that is,” Jamie answered sincerely.

           “It’s you! ‘Red are the curls atop his head. Red is the cloth that cloaks his body,” she gestured to his dark red vest. “’And red is the blood of his enemies spilled.’ That sounds a bit like you, no?”

           “Nay. Not me.”

           “If you say so,” she said, lying back on the bench. Jamie didn’t admit it to her, but it did sound like him. Was he really a famed pirate and didn’t know about it? He hoped not. It would just make it that harder to disappear without a trace, and go home…

           The boards above them creaked with the weight of a man. Someone was coming.

           He saw Dougal’s black boots before he saw the rest of him. He strolled over the cell, taking a seat next to Jamie.

           “How’s our prisoner, lad?” He spoke to Jamie, but his eyes were fixed on the woman. ‘La Dame Blanche.’ She scoffed, rolling her eyes to toward the ceiling. “What? Are ye no our prisoner? Are ye no tied up in our brig?” His eyes grew dangerous, the light gray turning stormy. Dougal had a temper, serious and harsh. The men knew not to cross him on such occasions.

           However, he took a deep breath, steadying himself, and rearranged his face into his merciful captain mask.

           “I didna want to argue with ye, lass. Just talk. Yer name is Claire, aye?” But Claire was a warrior, and didn’t mind fighting fire with fire.

           “I’m sorry. You’ve taken me at a disadvantage. I’m afraid I don’t know who you are…” Jamie saw Dougal’s neck turn red: he was holding his anger at bay. If this woman was who they thought she was, she was a valuable asset and could not be touched. Even if she was a pain in the arse.

           “Captain Dougal Mackenzie, ma’am,” Dougal answered with barely contained frustration.

           “Claire Beauchamp, sir.”

           “Well, Ms. Beauchamp. How did you come to find yourself on The Thistle?”

           “I snuck on.” Dougal rolled his eyes.

           “Aye, I ken that fine. When?”

           “Yesterday. When you fought that other ship.”


           “I was floating out at sea. Figured I’d have a better chance here than out there.”

           “And are ye La Dame Blanche?” The root of the issue made its appearance.

           “Does it matter? You’ll believe as you do. You’ll do with me as you wish.” She closed her eyes hard, as if she could will the men away.

           “Are ye?” Dougal asked, more forcefully this time. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Claire took a deep breath, and squeezed her eyes shut further.

           “I am who you say I am,” she barely whispered. Jamie could see that her energy was drained: physically, emotionally, mentally. But either Dougal didn’t notice or didn’t care.

           “Is it true that ye forced Frank Randall to murder his own brother?” Her lips twitched at that.

           “A man had free will. I can force no one to do something they do not wish. Frank murdered Jack, because Jack was a monster. Kin or not.”

           “And where is your Frank now?” But she merely shrugged her shoulders. “Are ye a witch?”


           “A spirit?”


           “I dinna believe ye.”

           “I figured you wouldn’t.” Jamie watched their exchange with fascination, and a little sympathy. For who, though, he wasn’t sure. He saw Dougal steel his shoulders, mind made up.

           “Come morning, ye’ll work with the crew, help us reach Port Royal. I’ll decide what to do wi’ ye after that.” And with a swish of his coat, he stood up and left the brig, marching only as a captain does.

           Claire’s eyes followed him until he disappeared through the door. Then, she closed her eyes again, tired. Jamie decided to take his leave, but before walked out the door, he heard her voice, clear as the sea.

           “Si delapsa ero resurgam.”

           If I fall, I will rise again.

They were finished, and Lucierin inspected each toy one last time before placing it in the box and wrapping it lovingly up.

There was so much else to do.

First things first, inspect the Kiss and ensure that the repairs had been completed, then contact Rubes to ready her arsenal of toxins and potions.

… no contacting her would be second, first she needed to run by the bank and take out a rather large deposit to pay her. With interest.

Lucierin sighed, Bless her mercenary heart, but I want her on my side and my side only. Wouldn’t do any good to have someone bidding higher than me. I’ve grown fond of the kid.

Teera wouldn’t be so hard to track down, and Luce needed her advice. Ethillis was more than likely having a good time, she just needed to distract him back to her, and Zellus…

Lucierin frowned, the rogue had disappeared as soon as they came to land.

But… she knew that he’d come when she called. She trusted him. She trusted the four that were the main part of her crew more than anyone else.

It was time to get the Serpent’s Kiss back on the water. They had spent enough time trying to find a purpose.

Kurel had one for her, as did Vel, as did Darnath.

She snorted, “You sure I’m not a weapon, oh Pirate King?” she said quietly as she looked over the packages meant for him, the toys he had ordered, “Seems to me that I still am.”

But this time the blade was in surer hands than it ever had been in before.

Luce smirked, she was closer to Kit than she admitted, there was another reason she was following him.

This was going to be so much damn fun!

@velerodra @kurel-andiel @theravir @ethillis @generalcero @darnath