Jeune Femme Nue se Coiffant, Jean-André Rixens (1887)
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storm
Tested out my new oil pastels with a comfort zone drawing! Thinking about doing something more complex next now that I’m familiar with how to use these oil pastels.
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My siren from the previous post <3
His name is Roni (very very much placeholder (“my song” or “my joy,”))
He is a siren from a not-so friendly tribe that only just recently tried to mend its ways with (significally chewed, angered and not exactly ready to greet neighbours with open arms) human population of the nearest port city
Not having advanced enough to compete with their former prey neither in diplomacy nor armed conflict, it was almost completely wiped and scattered by the people that were too tired and afraid of not only loosing their close ones to the sea, but also now, as they thought, to their newly activated predators. Too many remembered the tales of their fathers and husband lured, bewitched by the ethereal song of the waves, dragged into the cold water by the colder uncaring arms, torn to pieces, too many for them to even try recognising peace and trade offerings as such.
Roni does not know of the fate of his tribe, as he happened to get into altercation with a sailors boat few days before their rocky island was tracked down and wiped off his family presence for good. He was running away from one of the previous attacks for so long that he fell asleep among the fish following the warm stream and got caught in a net. Sailors treated them as kindly as the sirens used to treat them, and left him on the shore, mutilated and, as they thought, dead.
He happened to survive, but is unable to see out of his right eye or speak outloud, nedless to say he does not sing anymore, only wispers to the waves at times, praying for the sea`s kindness and warmth, and he did not return to his native island out of fear. He travels now, trying to find his place.
As for his character, he is careful, cautiously optimistic, a bit detached, a bit naive, very much inclined to self-learning, well-read as much as it was possible - sirens know human speech for their ensnaring songs, but never had much use of the written word, but he learned it to his ability from the books and letters that were on the ships they wrecked and also with the help of one of the captive "food supply" men that warmed up to his curiocity, letting himself be entertained by wide-eyed child`s questions and candid demands in his last days. Now that he is older, Roni takes great pleasure and comfort in every book he can get his hands on. He especially favours the educational ones, artistic literature being too much of a cultural shift to truly appreciate.
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