Swan Song by The Mechanisms is such a gorgeous and tragic song. Again, I love the queer rep they manage to inject in pretty much everything. Siegfried is nonbinary here, and who doesn’t love a captain that’s in love with their ship wife?
“I don’t know how I survived the crash. Something strange must have happened.”
Drop Dead by The Mechanisms is based off the game: Crypt of the Necrodancer and it’s all just genuinely very fun! I’d recommend giving the song a listen and the game a go!
Week 2 of weekly comics! More to come from the backlog!
Actaea and Lyssa by The Mechanisms is a wonderfully beautiful song. For the past month, I’ve been doing one comic a week and this was my first choice. Stay tuned for backlog posting!
If you, like me, are now incredibly invested in these queer pirates, you can read this short story I wrote as an alternative version of the first chapter! It was a really fun experiment and I might continue some longer fiction writing, even if it isn’t about Pirate’s Life.
Small waves bump gently across the hull of the Legacy. Its mainmast lacks the usual profile as the sails are currently furled; it sits calmly in the green-blue sea, tranquil under the clear sky. Silhouettes of land are visible in the distance, but the ship moves no closer nor further as it has no sail to catch the steady salt-scented breeze. Above deck is empty aside from the coils of rope coming down from the rigging. A passerby, unfamiliar with the Legacy, may assume an unlucky crew lost their ship, forgetting to anchor at port. But below deck, four pirates and their newest addition to the crew – a young runaway named Hana – sit around the cramped table to discuss their next course of action.
Small waves bump gently across the hull of the Legacy. Its mainmast lacks the usual profile as the sails are currently furled; it sits calmly in the green-blue sea, tranquil under the clear sky. Silhouettes of land are visible in the distance, but the ship moves no closer nor further as it has no sail to catch the steady salt-scented breeze. Above deck is empty aside from the coils of rope coming down from the rigging. A passerby, unfamiliar with the Legacy, may assume an unlucky crew lost their ship, forgetting to anchor at port. But below deck, four pirates and their newest addition to the crew – a young runaway named Hana – sit around the cramped table to discuss their next course of action.
“So, do we even know what the treasure is, beyond a wish?” Aubus says, their brow furrowing as they snap out the question, gloved hand coming down a little too hard on the table. “What if it’s all just fairytale?”
Hana quickly glances across the table at them as they speak. Her eyes dart away as Aubus shifts their focus to her with an unhappy glare, still visible through the dim glint in their crooked glasses. It’s a wonder they don’t have any wrinkles yet with how often they frown. Or maybe they only frown so often because Hana’s here. They’re still angry with her; she nearly cost the crew the opportunity to steal the map last evening. She stares down at the old wooden table to pretend the uneasy feeling settling in her stomach isn’t there.
“Well, isn’t that what makes this so much more adventurous?” Dolce shakes her hands excitedly, her silver bracelets sending a small jingling noise ringing through the cabin, “What could be more thrilling?! Searching for a fabled treasure hidden away by the legendary pirate Silver Tooth Ward, only guided by a map and our aspirations!” She locks her hands together and brings them up to her chin as her eyes look past, seemingly imagining the words as she says them. Aubus rolls their eyes, huffs, and scoots a few more inches away from her, the wooden bench creaking gently as they do so. The deep greens of their clothes help them sink into the shadows of the dimly lit cabin, while the lantern’s light reflects the yellows and oranges of Dolce’s clothes, brightening her already vibrant form.
Ark looms stone-faced in the doorway, silently waiting and listening to the conversation. He’s squeezed in the polished wooden frame, not unlike sardines in a tin, too tall and wide to be comfortable. His eyes move over the group, and he begins gesturing with his massive arms and calloused hands. Still not completely familiar with the speed of the motions, Hana mouths the words softly to herself.
“Don’t get too excited… It could be gone already.” He punctuates the sentence with a quick twist of his right hand, pointer finger against his chin. Hana tilts her head slightly and squints her eyes, mind working furiously to place the sign’s meaning. It looks like candy, but the hand shape is different – oh! Of course, it’s Dolce’s name sign. She hasn’t gotten one yet herself, and she’s still trying to remember everyone else’s. She’ll probably never get a name sign. Ark always blankly stares at her, judging, instead of making any attempts at conversation. She’s never alone with Ark for very long because she evacuates the room as soon as she can.
Mari, their captain, begins to finally unravel the map for the group to see. The parchment is old and stained and Hana’s worried it’s going to simply disintegrate with how rough Mari is with it. It makes a terrible crinkling and rustling noise, dampened by the wooden crates, books, and trinkets pushed against the walls and stacked on the shelves of the cabin, balanced so precariously they seem to be on the brink of falling any moment. Somehow, they stay standing.
“Unless you can make sense a’ this, Ark,” Mari says, turning toward him, “our next step is findin’ someone who can. Probably Port Hue.” She leans back against the wooden bench and rests her arm over the back of it.
“Port Hue? I kissed a girl there once,” Dolce says, beaming.
Mari purses her lips, “I doubt she’d wanna see you again, though, given your track record.”
Dolce clicks her tongue and inhales slowly, clearly embarrassed, “Nope! But, it’s close. Port Hue, I mean. Only an hour or so out.”
“But first, my turn,” Ark signs as he shuffles closer, ducking his shaved head to avoid the low wooden rafters with their metal rivets. He gingerly steps over a rolled-up carpet that had toppled over some time ago. For someone so big and stoic, he’s awfully mindful of the space he occupies. Maybe he’s not that scary.
The next few minutes crawl by as Ark looks over the map intently. Aubus impatiently drums the pads of their fingers against the bench, staying away from the table after being admonished by Mari. Dolce has unbraided and re-braided her prematurely graying hair at least twice. Her silver bracelets are sitting on the table, their familiar jingling now silent, matching the atmosphere of the room. The air, muggy, thick, and stale as ever, has a loud presence in the stillness of the cabin. Hana sits up, tucking her feet underneath her to get a better vantage point to see the map.
Map isn’t the word she would use to describe this stained piece of parchment. It’s more like an old illustration, not like any map she’s ever seen in her parents’ collection. Three figures that could either be people or mountains face a large circle. Symbols that could be writing are littered randomly around the page.
She looks at Ark to see any clue of what he makes of it. His usual stoic expression is replaced by furrowed brows and confused but focused eyes. His tongue is sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he focuses intently. It only took Hana a moment to know that she doesn’t understand the map, what could be taking him so long?
She looks again at the map, and freezes when she recognizes a symbol, right in the center. It’s most definitely the symbol on her necklace, an old family heirloom she took with her when she ran away. But it could be different. She can’t check it now, Aubus will tell the whole group if they see anything and she doesn’t want to have to explain where she got the jewelry. She’s already lied about being an orphan and she doesn’t know if she can come up with another convincing fib.
Is her necklace the treasure? How would she even know, it’s not like her parents ever told her anything about it. It’s just pretty. A golden crescent moon with a turquoise disc, its white symbol inlaid in its center. Hana often fidgets with its spinning disc when she’s certain no one is looking.
“No, sorry. I don’t know what it means.” Ark looks almost, sad…or apologetic? Hana can’t quite place the look. If she wouldn’t be able to tell what it is with time to think about it, she certainly wouldn’t be able to with the few seconds she actually had with the thought.
A deafening blast disrupts the tense silence of the cabin. Hana can’t focus properly. Mari disappears. Aubus’s boot, briefly on the table. Footsteps thud up the ladder. The jingling of Dolce’s bracelets is what pulls Hana back into the moment: a familiar sound, in the unfamiliar chaos. Dolce nearly trips on her skirt on her way out and up. Hana scrambles up the ladder behind her, chipped fingernails scraping on the sturdy but splintering wood in her hurry.
It takes Hana a moment to adjust to the blinding sunlight, contrasted by the darkness of the cabin below. Sounds of the waves, previously dampened below deck, are crisp and sharp. The cool air, usually a relief from the stuffy cabin, adds to the confusion and battery against her senses.
Dolce’s voice sounds out from Hana’s right, high-pitched and questioning, “Is that…?”
“Wrinkle and Plink,” Mari finishes Dolce’s query, gruffly and with an edge of distaste. It comes out almost as a growl, and Hana might have fun imagining the captain as a wolf if their current situation was not so overwhelming.
A ship comes into focus, finally, as Hana’s eyes adjust to the light. It’s not much bigger than the Legacy, but its stark black cannons are focused directly on the crew like cruel eyes. Two men stand on deck, one tall and wide and the other tall and thin; it’s hard to tell anything else at this distance between the reflected sunlight and general chaos.
“How’d they find us already?” Dolce says. Her tone reminds Hana of her school playmates, whining when their recreational time was over. Hana turns back to look at the two men she doesn’t recognize, trying to find some semblance of familiarity in them. Nothing.
“Don’t just stand there gawking! Man your stations!” Mari’s words are cannon fire: sharp, loud, startling. But they provide clarity to Ark and Dolce as they make an immediate beeline for the strange metal pump on the ship’s starboard. One of Aubus’s inventions. Hana hasn’t seen what this one does yet, but it’s attached to machinery that looks just like a cannon.
Hana runs for the ship’s portside to grab the netting gun, another one of Aubus’s creations. The metal detailing is cool to the touch and glints in the sunlight, contrasted by the matte surface of the wood. She’s seen Aubus use this before in the week she’s been here. It can’t be that hard to use, surely. She turns the clunky object over in her hands, looking for any sort of indication of how to use it. Before she can recollect anything, the gun is snatched away from her forcefully.
“Don’t want you screwing things up again. Especially not with these two,” Aubus’s remark stings as they snap it out at Hana, netting gun now comfortable their calloused hands. She stumbles backwards at the abrupt movement and mumbles out frantic apologies as her stomach twists. She resists the urge to dash back below deck, away from the chaos and away from their bitter stare, hidden behind those crooked glasses.
It’s the same stare from yesterday. The anxiety-ridden memory consumes her, like the deep gray-blue ocean enveloping a ship in a catastrophic storm.
“All you have to do is distract them. It’s not hard,” Aubus said matter-of-factly. They gestured out into the crowded room of the tavern. Two women sit laughing at a lone table in the corner, a pristine leather bag draped over the back of their chairs, their fingers pointed at loud people making fools of themselves. The women are out of place in the dimly lit, rowdy room. But Hana has seen a great many number of people like this: prim and proper, dressed for some grand, unspoken event. They think they’re better than you, even though they’re just rich and mean. Anything Hana can do was going to be ignored or brushed off.
“But what if they–“ Hana’s meek protest was cut off quickly.
“Listen, Mari may have let you onto the ship, but that doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want. You have to work for your place. Get going.” Aubus pushed Hana forward unceremoniously, giving her no time or room to argue.
Everything was a blur as Hana wove her way through the crowd, murmuring out excuse me’s and sorry’s as she’s stepped on and bumped into. Her linen cloak dragged on the floor just as a boot clumsily stepped on top of it, nearly toppling Hana right over. She tugged the dusty and now dirty white cloak out from underneath the oblivious stranger’s boot. Before Hana knew it, her journey to the table was at its end, and her stomach dropped as the two women met her nervous eyes, flittering between their cold stares.
She’s sure she said something, but she can’t remember. She can only remember the heat crawling to her face and Aubus freezing in a panic behind the two women as Hana failed to distract the duo. Suddenly, Dolce was there talking, though Hana couldn’t understand the words through her pulse beating in her ears and the roar of the crowd. Only the gentle jingle of her bracelets was recognizable: the only thing that grounded Hana in that moment. Aubus grabbed the bag, and Hana swallowed her silent shame as Dolce took her hand to guide her back to the Legacy in a hurry.
Cannon fire sounds out as Wrinkle and Plink fire again, though it misses completely. Mari hoists the mainsail and foresails from her position just behind the mast. She’s like a spider in the center of web, all rigging running from the sails to her in masterful control of it all. Aubus climbs the foot rigging up towards the crow’s nest and wraps an arm through one of the ropes before grabbing the gun with both hands.
Ark begins cranking the water pump as Dolce takes aim. ‘Hard to rob a ship you sunk,’ Mari once said when Hana asked why they didn’t have normal cannons, ‘Plus, you can’t get chased down when the crew’s all overboard.’ She hadn’t clarified what she meant then, but now Hana understands. A torrent of water erupts from the cannon, following the arc of Dolce’s aim and landing just short of the opposing ship.
Another deafening blast erupts as Wrinkle and Plink launch another cannonball. Mari turns the sail and the rudder; the Legacy lurches and turns just in time. Hana stumbles and falls on her hands and knees, now face-to-face with the salt-stained deck.
Hana blinks. A rat blinks back, with its small black eyes. It tilts its furry gray head to the side and Hana smiles despite the chaos. “Oh, little one… This is no place for someone as small as you!” She regrets not being able to be gentler, but considering the circumstances she hopes she is forgiven for scooping the small creature up without giving it a moment to adjust.
“Ha! Gotcha!” Dolce’s high-pitched laughter rings out above the noise of the waves and the rushing water. Hana rises to her feet, rat in hands, just in time to see the man on board the opposing ship be pushed into the sea by the torrent of water. “Did I get them both?” Dolce leans around the cannon, squinting her eyes, “Where’s the smaller one?”
Hana’s attention is grabbed by the noise of Aubus firing their gun. A bundle of barbed netting shoots out of the barrel and hits the mizzenmast of the opposing ship. The mainmast’s sail still stays fully intact, but the ship’s movement is significantly hampered. Pieces of cloth wave like flags in the wind. The sharp metal glinting in the noonday sunlight is reminiscent of Aubus’s cold grin. Hana finds herself gently petting the rat in her hands. Whether it’s for her own comfort or the rat’s, she cannot say.
There’s movement toward the back of the ship that catches Hana’s eye. She glances over, assuming it to be Mari using the sheets to control the sails, but it isn’t. It’s someone else entirely.
An extra rope hangs out of place, attached to a grappling hook rather than any ship part. It’s newer than the rigging of the Legacy, not worn and frayed by time and use. A pair of pale hands grip the ship’s aftmost railing, behind Mari and out of her sight. Hana scans the rest of the Legacy, does anyone else aboard see this? No. Instead, Aubus is aiming another shot, this time to take out the mainsail, halting the opposing ship’s movement completely. Dolce is searching in the wrong direction for the other man and Ark is tirelessly working the pump for the cannon. Mari’s hands flitter from rope to rope, steering the ship skillfully and nimbly, eyes focused on where the ship is heading rather than where it’s been.
Hana turns back to aft of the ship. The figure is climbing over the railing now and makes direct eye contact with Hana. Is this Wrinkle? Plink? Either way, it doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t be here, and he is. He moves slowly, lifting a long leg over the railing. A finger raises to his lips and his stare intensifies. His hand reaches slowly toward his hip, and Hana acts impulsively.
She closes her eyes and rushes forward with all her might, cradling the rat against her chest so it doesn’t get hurt. She makes a little grunt when she collides with the tall but poorly balanced man. He scrambles to hold onto the railing.
“Kid, wh—” he begins speaking but is abruptly cut off by his own yelp. Hana looks down, the rat is looking up at her, having bit down on the man’s fingers. He drops with a satisfying splash off the side of the ship, his orange hair contrasting with that of the deep blue-green sea. Hana takes a few steps back, waiting to see if she wakes up because this has to be just a dream. But it isn’t.
“We’ll work on that form,” Mari says flatly, “but… Good job.” A smile spreads across her face as she finishes speaking. Hana can’t stop her own smile; she finally feels useful here. She scratches the head of the rat still in her hands before holding it up to her face. “You need a name, little one. How do you feel about… Tails?” The rat squeaks in protest, moving its tail from side to side, clearly annoyed. “Umm… Patchy? Squeaky?” Again, no. Hana puffs her cheeks out, trying to think of a name that it will enjoy.
“…Chomper…?” Finally! This suggestion is met with an excited squeak as the rat spins around in Hana’s cupped hands. “Well hi, Chomper.”
Mari interrupts Hana’s reverie as she calls out to the rest of the crew, “Come on, we’re making our way to Port Hue!” A few tugs on different ropes and the boat seems to be set on its course, leaving Wrinkle and Plink swimming towards their ship with its torn sails.
Before they can get too far away, Dolce sticks her tongue out and yells, “That’ll teach you to mess with us! The, uh…” she turns to her crewmates to quietly say, “we really ought to have a name, yeah?”
Mari scoffs, annoyed by the idea, “We ought to get to Port Hue to get this map deciphered.” As she watches Wrinkle and Plink’s silhouettes in the water grow smaller, she adds, “It’ll help us lie low from these bounty hunters, anyways.”
Aubus slides down from their vantage point on the foot rigging, “It’s closer than the likelihood of us agreeing on a name.” They roll their eyes and lean their small frame against the mast.
Dolce’s face scrunches up into an angry pout, “You two aren’t any fun. Can’t you just play along?” What would a good name be for this strange group of pirates? Dolce would want something cute, but Aubus would want something refined and Ark and Mari wouldn’t settle for anything that wasn’t formidable. Maybe they’ll agree someday, but certainly not today.
Ark taps Dolce’s shoulder, “Focus. You can worry about that later. We’re getting close.” His signs are fast and short which usually mean he’s annoyed, but there’s a softness in his expression that Hana can’t quite place. Dolce puts a hand on his forearm and nods before turning to look out at the horizon.
The silhouette of a large island peeks over the horizon, blurred by the sun and its reflections on the water. It doesn’t take long for it to come properly into view. Hana’s eyes widen as she looks on in awe. The island is almost completely built over! Greenery sticks out between the numerous wooden decks and docks and platforms, but what’s really stunning is the colorful tapestries and painted buildings. Ships of all shapes and sizes are docked here, many proudly flying flags of different shapes and colors, representing different islands and ships although Hana does not recognize many. Hot air balloons are docked on high platforms made of old repurposed ship hulls. Giant cranes haul in fishing nets and raise ships to higher levels of the island, while the base of the island opens to an interior canal system, allowing smaller ships to sail to the top. Even from this distance, Hana can see the crowds of people moving around the decks and stairs and sidewalks, moving in and out of homes and shops and trading centers.
“Be careful, kid. This place can get…” Mari pauses, trying to find the right words, eventually settling for, “…a little chaotic.”
The final of the sketchbook pages for my comic’s development! This was a genuinely fun project and I hope I’m able to continue it professionally. Read the full comic here: http://www.co-stella.com/pirates
More sketch pages for my comic’s development! Meet the characters! They’re all queer! We need more of that in media so I am prepared to deliver. Read the full comic here: http://www.co-stella.com/pirates
Our BFA Illustration Show is coming soon! Opening on April 29th at Syracuse University, Shaffer Hall 1st floor, the show will contain works from the graduating illustration class. HIVE will be open to see from April 29th to May 11th.
Well, we’re about a week into March at this point! My 12-page comic is FINISHED! Keep checking back for more sketch pages and insight into the making of it. If you’re attending MOCCAfest in NYC on April 4th and 5th, you can pick up a printed copy for $10. I’ll update this in future when I find out what table Syracuse University is at! For now, you can read the full thing here: http://www.co-stella.com/pirates
Characters from my comic, Pirate’s Life. Their designs have changed a little since I made these, but they’re just really fun!
The story itself has also changed a lot. I’m currently working on a 12-page comic as a little pitch, but you can read the last two chapters I did here: www.co-stella.com/pirates
A sequential assignment where we created a leporello (an illustration that can be split into multiple pieces but also works as one large piece). I wanted to capture the chaos of a birthday party at a playground.
Some sketches are included, if you like that sort of thing! I got a lot of really good feedback on this last semester; you can really see how the piece developed and turned into something that flows a lot better than it did initially.
Fitting that my first post is about the podcast I’ve recently been fixated on! Welcome to The Magnus Archives, where everyone hates each other and some people are dead. I choose to ignore this.
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