- “There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in proportion” — E.A. Poe
I’m Risa Rosé: conlanger, worldbuilder, artist, writer, lover of historical and alternative fashion, occasional clown, and singer. Glass Coppélia is a way for me to incorporate all of my interests into one project, telling stories through music.
I’ve performed under the label of overseas idol since 2017, officially making my debut at Mini Mini Con in 2018 and improving little by little along the way. Now I prefer the term artist, but still utilize idol-related tags since the majority of songs I perform are in Japanese!
When it comes to genres, I’m inspired by too many to list. However, my biggest influences are artists like ALI PROJECT, EGO-WRAPPIN’, Nightwish, and a whole variety of anisong singers. I perform a lot of power ballads, but cute stuff isn’t off the table! I reserve the sweeter, more sugary songs for covers.
When I write lyrics for myself, most of my inspiration comes from my favorite works of literature or stories I’ve penned myself. That’s part of why I started this Tumblr: to serve as a peek behind the curtain! Instagram stories don’t really cut it, since they’re gone in 24 hours. Here I can nerd out as much as I want!!
I don’t want to ramble too much, so here are the links to the important things:
Insta - glass_coppelia_official
Website - Still a WIP
YouTube - Risa Rosé’s Glass Coppélia
Lyric Commissions - Examples and pricing here!
Thank you for visiting, I hope you enjoy your stay in the world inside my mind.
Spanish baroque clown style with heavy black and gold costume.
Daily introduction of stylish people who gather in “Kawaii Cult”!
minori
(Born in Kochi, living in Tokyo)
27 years old, artist, 149 cm
Today’s fashion theme ♦ Baroque
Hat, dress ♦ Handmade
Twitter @cute_minori
Instagram @minori00mon
I saw a shooting star
It was like a bird
.
What would you wish for a shooting star?
.
Whose wish will the shooting star grant?
.
That's too fast, no time to wish
.
But
I don't know why,
I felt like I flew so close that I could reach it
if I stretched out my hand..
.
What would you wish for a shooting star?
.
I can't wish on a shooting star, but,
.
I felt like I got courage
I'm sure that shooting stars is a blue bird
flying into someone's heart
.
.
少し前に見た流れ星は
鳥のようだった
.
私だったら
どんな願いをしただろうか
.
誰の願いをかなえるのだろう
早すぎて
願い事なんて言えないけど
.
なぜだろう
手を伸ばしたら届きそうなほど
近くを飛んだ気がした
.
私だったら
流れ星に願うことは出来ないけど
.
勇気を貰えた気がした
きっと流れ星は
誰かの心に飛んでいく青い鳥
“Scarcely does the sun rise ‘fore the night descends again // No one hears the lamentations of the sons of men”
My newest original song, Belmont, has been performed for the first time as of last week! Although I’ve got footage, I’m not all that happy with how distracted and unfocused I look while singing.
So, I decided to try my hand at a larger scale pixel art piece, a self portrait using the SNES color palette and using the Castlevania TV series’ version of Sypha as a reference…too heavily in the first WIP, where I didn’t realize the shadows on her neck are because of her gravity defying cloak, haha. That changed once I added shoulders, and eventually I found other references to use in order to re-shade.
Full disclosure, I’ve been using Sypha as a redlined overlay and checking that the lines match up well enough. There are some lines I’m going to redo now that I’m more confident I can match the style, to further separate my piece from the original work!!
I’m really, really proud of the hair. Cross-referencing Alucard and Carmilla did wonders, since Sypha’s got a much different look than I do. Adding in my widow’s peak was surprisingly difficult, but I’m learning that the circle tool works wonders if you don’t have a curved line tool to use. Lots of layers, but worth it!
Next steps are to fix the imbalance at the bottom of the bust and add clothing. I may also change the brows to be more serious, but I reeeeally don’t want to have to change shading and outlines AGAIN after redoing the neck/adding shoulders/figuring out how to make the collarbones look passable. Another possibility is making both sets of lashes larger, to reflect the makeup I wore during the performance (as well as make them more distinct).
For now, though, I’ve got something that’s coming along really nicely, and I’m happy about it. Will this be album art? Nah, probably not. I’d rather do a piece that’s more oil paint-y than pixelated for that. But I think it’ll be a good enough cover for the first live taping *^ ^*
A very short-lived D&D campaign I was in (like…two sessions before we all got super busy) had a steampunk city. This was great news for me, because I decided I wanted to play a bloodhunter.
I THEN decided to unknowingly up the difficulty by making my bloodhunter a kenku. Enter Wisp (depicted with wings on the “cover”), a kenku maid who grew up with the human girl she was in service to, Aileen. She was less of a maid and more like a sister to the girl, and Aileen tried her best to teach Wisp to speak.
This is Wisp’s book of poetry (taken from Victorian versions of nursery rhymes), hand-drawn by her with added notes from Aileen. All the phrases Wisp used were pulled from it, her favorite being “Thursday’s child” as an insult (“far to go” was interpreted MANY different ways). It allowed me to have her speak in broken, poetic Common, which was a fun way to circumvent kenku speech restrictions while still having some in place.
As I’m a massive Bloodborne fan, Wisp and Aileen were both references to Aileen the Crow, Hunter of Hunters. I don’t think Wisp would have made her proud, though, because she very nearly died in the one session we played. DM shenanigans and some clever thinking on another player’s part were the only reason she lived!
I’d love to use Wisp in a future campaign, but she’s going to need some class tweaking to be more viable. Great Old One patron warlock with some gothic/romantic era flair could work well…
Oh, and her collection of poetry/literature will have to be expanded, haha! We used the “kenku could, in theory, memorize a book and use sentences/sentence structures they found there” approach, and so seven nursery rhymes don’t exactly form a functional vocabulary. ^^’
Seijō Suzume/Crown Princess Suzume, an old magical girl character who’s recently been updated for a TTRPG
One of the things my group decided on was that we were going to play a group of older magical girls/boys, so she needed to be aged up.
So far, her backstory is that when she was 10, fairies from the Kingdom of Sonoria chose her as their Crown Princess and Protectress. Among the candidates they had been watching, Suzume showed the most compassion, grace, and determination. The oath of protection and loyalty she swore granted her magical powers, but then the training began.
Etiquette lessons, agility and swordsmanship classes under the best instructors Sonoria could offer, the overseeing of important ceremonies and programs, fairy school on top of normal human school, lessons on the politics of fairy society…all beginning before she even understood what she signed up for. She just kind of heard “princess” and went with it.
It’s been 13 years, and her responsibilities have taken their toll on her. College is a slow process, due to her duties requiring she travel between worlds often for different classes. But she’s used to it by this point. Dreams in the traditional mahou shoujo sense are foreign to her, and her two states of mind seem to be burnt-out and stressed. Despite being pretty good at masking her emotions, her eyebrows have gained a seemingly permanent worried expression.
She does want one thing, and that’s to make everyone around her happy. But of course, that means that she’s left feeling empty. That’s what it means to give your all in order to serve the greater good, right? So, she’ll follow along and do what others think is best for her. She’s got no reason to do anything else, she’s on a tight schedule and her duties won’t wait.
I wonder what she’ll end up discovering?
Also, hilariously, she’s for (a slightly modified version of) Thirsty Sword Lesbians but isn’t particularly thirsty, and isn’t a lesbian. Funny how things can turn out that way lol
Originally, her character had a lot more of a traditional magical girl look to her (almost Madoka-like, even though Madoka wasn’t an inspiration). Puff sleeves, puff skirt, twin tails, fairy tale motifs (the more family friendly version of Swan Lake)…
The inspiration for her new look leans more into traditional tragic ballets (specifically Giselle with some leftover Swan Lake pieces). On top of that, my group’s got a 9 Muses thing going, so I added in a neckline that’s vaguely Greco-Roman. I’m pretty sure her Muse is going to end up being Euterpe, since Sonoria is a kingdom based around sound and music.
Suzume’s name in Japanese is spelled 誓上 鈴女, with “Seijō” using the kanji for “oath” and “above/up/top” and “Suzume” literally meaning “bell girl”. I wanted to try and make a meaningful name in the style of Sailor Moon and Pretty Cure, where everyone’s names tie into their magical identities! PreCure does the whole “sounds like a real surname” thing a lot, and it took ages to come up with Seijō (jō is pretty rare as a nanori reading of 上). Seishita (literally vow-under) was my first choice, but “under oath” in Japanese is associated with 上, not 下. So, Seijō it is!
"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
’Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!"
All artworks above are from James Carling’s series of illustrations for Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” from the early 1870s. Carling, then 23, started his career as a pavement artist in Liverpool, went to America and entered a “Harper’s Magazine” illustration competition for Poe’s poem. Without success, alas, but he left us with some of the most fancifully dark and weird and almost timeless takes on an icon of dark poetry.
Richmond’s Virginian Edgar Allan Poe Museum preserved and currently exhibits the whole series of Carling’s illustrations – and can be acquired below, along with highly engaging background information on Poe, the poem and the artist.
One of the most popular poems in the English language, Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” has thrilled generations of readers. In 1882, the Anglo
Throwback to when I had grand plans of creating a “musical cycle” based off of the Four Humors, with different exaggerations of my personality to match each one!
I only did Sanguine and Melancholy before realizing that it would be an incredibly hard thing to stick to. There were too many overlaps between the four, and I had trouble assigning a humor to any and all potential cover songs! I never came up with any lyrics for the project, either, because in the end I didn’t really know what I wanted out of it.
However, it was great makeup practice! I wish I would have gotten an actual, good picture of Sanguine, but both faces were crucial in furthering my understanding of shironuri (Sanguine) and clown (Melancholy) styles of whiteface makeup. Sanguine helped with gyaru, too, since I drew pretty heavily from its make.
