Fan art, opinions, discussions, and fanfiction. Quill Kipps, Kat Godwin, and Bobby Vernon are my faves. If you need a beta for your fanfiction story, just PM me! Main blog, you can call me Kate, she/her.
Sorely disappointed by the choices of cast for Lockwood and Co.
If you tell me that ignoring the established racial identity of a character is perfectly fine and should be encouraged in the perfect world we live in, then tell me how would you feel if Holly Munro were played by a white actress? Wouldn't that be white-washing and disrespectful to both the character and the audience?
Secondly, the actor who plays George is strikingly handsome. A handsome George? Have they even read the books? We love George because he's awkward and pudgy. But I guess awkward and pudgy doesn’t sell as well as glamorous and handsome.
I’ve been waiting for the characters I love to come to life on screen but instead here are some random people that have little to do with the books.
The irony. I've been waiting for months and months to buy the official UK ebook edition of Scarlett and Browne. Finally, I found it at the UK Amazon - and guess what, "the title is not available in your country due to copyright restrictions". Great, just great, here I am willing to pay my money in the most proper lawful way but I'm not allowed to... so I guess I'll have to wait till it gets stolen and appears in pirate libraries? What kind of world is this?
Haha, yes, as unlikely as it seems, I’m still alive!:)
I spend every spare minute I have on sketching, painting, and writing (various fandoms), and the weird thing is - I have to choose between creating something and posting it online, since I haven’t time for both.
I’ll still try to upload my Lockwood and Co. stuff here someday, but now I’m into many other fandoms (so many fandoms, so little time!), and the place I’m going to be most active in the future is DeviantArt. I’m Katarina-Mor there, so you can stalk me there if you wish.:)
Here is the zine application form for all who wish to apply.
We are currently looking for 24 artists and 2 writers. If we get more than this amount of applications, we will select the participants, so be sure to include examples of your work.
All participants must have or be willing to make a discord account, seeing as organisation will go through that messaging app. For further information please refer to our faq and applications pages.
With so many people saying so many nice things about my art (and even following my blog to see more of it, gosh!) I feel flattered – THANK YOU, fellas!
Jonathan Stroud’s books gave me something I can seldom find – inspiration. His characters went through the hardest of times and stayed strong – battered, yes, but emotionally strong and true to themselves.
I have always been (or used to be, hopefully!) a miserable artist. Upset by how tiny I was in the ocean of Art with so many Genius And True Artists around. I didn’t exactly envy their skill, but I did envy their determination, their creative energy that enabled them to spend hours on drawing things they loved, while I had the attention span of a gold fish – getting bored and miserable after just 5 minutes of scribbling, and my drawings were never beautiful enough to show them to anyone (note: I had exactly the same skill level as I have now, maybe it was even higher because I used to try really hard).
One day I came across Walt Stanchfield’s book on gesture drawing for Disney artists, and it was an eye-opener. In short, the idea was: a drawing doesn’t have to be “beautiful”, it must convey something: a story, an idea, an emotion, etc. Ever since, I don’ t draw something to look “beautiful”, all I do is try to express my feelings and ideas in the most legible way I can manage.
My feelings guide me, not my knowledge of anatomy or perception of what people might like. Anatomy is helpful, and it’s always good to publish something that might make the viewer a bit happier, but perfection and popularity are not my things.
So yeah, that’s how I got this way, with the help of J.Stroud’s characters and Walt’s ideas. Now I feel happy hearing those nice words not because they are a praise but because they mean you like the same thing I like, and that we, all being so unique and different, have something in common, and it’s magical to hear! I love you! <3
Hi! I loooooove your art style and I was wondering if you could draw the Kipps Squad (y'know, Quill, Kat, Bobby, even Ned if you want) all together? Again, I love your art!
There!:) This is actually my most favourite episode in the whole series, chapter 19 of The Whispering Skull.But I have something else to say here. How the deceptive Lucy we all love led us to believe that Kipps was a useless supervisor and a coward for he fled the scene. Yet, has it ever occurred to anyone that he actually was THE FIRST to enter that place? Throughout the book Lucy casually calls him both a supervisor and a team leader, most of the times calling him a useless supervisor, so it’s really hard to grasp the difference, but - a supervisor is someone who is not expected to enter the dangerous zone, while a team leader is exactly the person who coordinates the team on the spot of the haunting. SEE? Kipps was both, but NEVER a useless supervisor, no matter what Lucy told us.
A short story of mine, and I’m eternally grateful to @vad73 for beta-reading! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.:)
Rated: T
Timeline: the end of The Empty Grave
Quill Kipps, Kat Godwin, Bobby Vernon
[Friendship, Drama, and a bit of Humour]
‘I wish we brought roses…’ said Bobby, eyeing the bunch of flowers Kat was holding in her hands. A dozen of unknown pale flowers looked a bit like daisies, and definitely like something maraudered off a grave.
‘What am I, a flower expert?’ retorted Kat. ‘These will have to do.’
She turned to the nurse, who looked up from the register book.
‘Kipps, is it?’ asked the nurse. ‘Yes, you can visit him.’
Apparently, the elderly nurse didn’t trust someone their age to wander through the hospital by themselves. She stood up from her desk and told them to follow her. Kat and Bobby trailed after her in grim silence. Bobby glanced at Kat from the corner of his eye but didn’t dare to speak. She looked as cold and stony-faced as ever, and still he knew she cared – just like she cared for Bobby himself when he ended up in hospital last autumn. To be tactful and (more importantly) to keep himself out of trouble, he looked away.
The nurse stopped opposite a door. Kat and Bobby, without even realizing it, stood closer to each other, just like they would stand in the circle of iron chains. They knew their former leader had been between life and death for some days – and they wouldn’t be here if it was anything less critical – but they feared what they might see inside the room. They had already seen too many of their colleagues pale and dying.
The nurse opened the door slightly, only an inch wide. Then she turned to them with an encouraging smile, which looked too ominous for Bobby’s taste.
‘He’s awake. You can come in.’
Kat and Bobby didn’t move. Kat’s hand, the one which wasn’t holding the flowers, jerked as if she wanted to take Bobby’s hand, but instead just wiped a speck of dust from her trousers. Bobby looked up at her mournfully.
‘Yes’, breathed Kat, without meeting his eye. ‘We’re coming.’
Quill Kipps was lying on his bed, leaning on voluminous pillows and lazily flipping through a magazine. For a couple of days now his mind wasn’t occupied with thoughts of dying. At the moment it was occupied with complete and utter boredom. He hoped someone from Lockwood’s team might pop up to visit him today, but apparently they were all too busy. He didn’t complain. His bedside table was loaded with a pile of cheap novels, a tin of biscuits, a bag of doughnuts, a bowl of fruit, and a packet of liquorice that he wouldn’t dare touch even in his best health.
As soon as he saw the door opening, he put the magazine aside and stared at the visitors. They lingered at the door as if this was a haunted house to enter – and it took him a long moment to recognise Kat and Bobby. Kat was carrying something that looked like a decorative whisk broom. Kipps raised his eyebrows – the move he could easily afford without suffering. If Flo came to claim her liquorice back, he wouldn’t have been as surprised.
The nurse ushered them in. ‘Don’t stay for too long,’ she said and was gone.
Silence ensued. Nobody felt like being the first to speak. Kat pressed her lips and stared out the window. Bobby’s gaze travelled from her to Kipps and back, like a pendulum.
‘Hey, you’ve come,’ said Kipps with a weak smile.
Kat’s eyes focused on him and there seemed to be a glimpse of warmth in them. Or not. It had always been hard to tell with Kat.
‘We couldn’t stay out of this,’ said Bobby, ‘could we?’
Kat frowned. Now that it was obvious Quill wasn’t dying, the idea of coming here seemed all too stupid to her. She lowered her hand letting the flowers hang neglected against her knee.
‘We’re glad to see you’re not starving,’ she said dryly, her eyes pointing at the bedside table.
‘Oh, that…’ Quill turned on his elbows to see his treasures. ‘I’m not allowed to eat anything of it anyway. Only bland and tasteless food for me, as a part of testing my will to live. You can help yourselves.’
‘Can we?’ asked Bobby. ‘Haven’t had anything since morning!’ He busied himself rummaging through the bag of doughnuts. ‘With apricot jam, perfect!’
Kat gave a repressed sigh and came closer, too. They both now were by the right side of Kipps’s bed. At least, his face wasn’t as pale as the blankets.
‘So it’s nothing serious, is it?’ asked Kat. ‘We were told you were badly wounded. Lost lots of blood.’
She spoke calmly, as usual, but towards the end her shoulders shuddered. Quill recalled how she was shaking all over, the night Ned died.
He tried to smile again.
‘Well, yes, I was, and I did. But I feel much better now. They patched me up and now they promise to let me out soon.’
‘That’s good,’ Kat nodded.
Bobby finished his doughnut and fished out a napkin from the doughnut bag.
‘So, where is your wound?’ he asked.
Kipps pointed at his right side with his left hand.
‘Here. I’d have shown you the stitches, but with women and children present I’d rather not.’
Kat’s expression remained flat, and even Bobby didn’t appreciate the humour. All in all, none of them truly remembered what being a child felt like. Not even Bobby.
‘Don’t worry about me.’ Kipps brushed the subject off with a wave of his hand. ‘I’m fine. But I… I’m happy that you came. I haven’t seen you for so long…’
He took sudden interest in his magazine, which was still lying by his side. He smoothed battered corners of its pages, but that was pretty much the only thing he could do with it, so he looked up at Kat and Bobby again.
‘It’s good to hear you are fine.’ Kat nodded. She hesitated a moment and lifted her hand with the bunch of feeble flowers. ‘Where can I?..’
‘Oh.’ Kipps looked around, puzzled. ‘I suppose I could ask the nurse for a vase and some water for them. Are you sure they aren’t dried?’
‘They aren’t,’ replied Kat dryly.
‘Er, well, I dunno, put them somewhere you can find.’
But the bedside table was full, so Kat kept holding the flowers.
Kipps pulled himself up a bit on his pillows, happy to discover it didn’t hurt as much as it did a couple of days ago.
‘And how are you? I’ve heard things are still messy at Fittes.’
‘Uh-huh,’ said Bobby. ‘They are still repairing the hall. The good thing – we have a lot of days off.’ He beamed thinking of evenings and nights free of work.
‘Paid, I hope,’ Kat added. ‘I don’t care who’s in charge of Fittes as long as I can pay my bills.’
That was Kat. All practical and self-centred, not worrying about anything that didn’t have to do with her personally. Sometimes Quill envied that trait of hers – not that he would ever tell her. If he were more like her, he would have been still working at Fittes and earning enough to pay all imaginable bills. If he were more like her and could close his eyes on everything that wasn’t his direct responsibility, he wouldn’t have hooked up with Lockwood, and wouldn’t be lying here now with a hole in his side. If he were like her – well, probably, Kat and Bobby wouldn’t have ignored the very fact that he existed for the past few months, resenting him for befriending their rivals. But apparently, he was nothing like cold-hearted calculating Kat.
‘So you have a new supervisor now?’ asked Kipps just to say something.
Kat looked out the window again.
‘Yeah,’ said Bobby, his face darkening. ‘A useless geezer. He’s something like forty and determined to teach us how to respect age and authority. We wish him a lot of things when he’s not around.’
Kipps gave a startled cough.
‘I hope you didn’t use to wish me things when I was your supervisor.’
‘Of course not!’ said Bobby promptly, and his cheeks flushed a bit.
‘Well, I’m happy for you,’ Kipps smiled. ‘I don’t think Fittes will go through any hard times. I’m sure you can continue working just like you have been.’
Kat turned her face slowly.
‘Continue working just like we have been?’ she echoed. Her lips had been pressed for so long that now they were devoid of colour. ‘Is that what you wanted to tell us on the day you left us? That we should continue working just like we always did?’
The flowers, which had been pressed irreverently to her knee again, trembled and lost a few petals.
‘I didn’t think you’d understand…’ Quill mumbled. ‘It was just as hard for me to understand, but I had to…’
‘We trusted you!’ Kat’s blue eyes were piercing his face. ‘You were always with us, you protected us and we protected you! You were one of us! You never were one of those assholes who don’t care how many agents they’ll have left alive by morning!’
Kipps stirred slightly, as if worried by a dead leg. He didn’t want to look Kat or Bobby in the eye.
‘Kat… I tried to be a good team leader, and a fair supervisor. But I always failed. We lost Ned. We lost many others, and I didn’t want to lose you and Bobby. You weren’t safe with me.’
‘So that is why you decided to dump us and toss us to somebody who didn’t give a damn about us?!’ cried Kat indignantly. ‘To keep us safe?’
Bobby gazed at her in terror, like a soldier staring at a grenade and wondering where the ring might have gone. Kipps, too, involuntary drew his head towards his shoulders.
‘It was the best I could do for all of us,’ he uttered bitterly.
Kat breathed hard through her nose, her hand’s grip on the flowers so tight that her knuckles looked like naked bones.
‘After all we’d been through! You scurried away and left us!’ She suddenly swung her arm and hit his pillow with her feeble bunch of flowers – just an inch from where his head was.
‘Ouch! Careful, Kat!’ Kipps asked.
But just like the squeaking of a mouse brings out the hunter in a cat, his words weren’t to much avail.
‘Coward! I hate you!’ Kat hit his pillow twice more.
Quill lifted his right hand in a self-defending gesture and Kat accidently hit his open palm. The sound of the strike clanged against the walls in sudden silence. Everyone froze. Two of the flowers fell off their stems and landed on the blanket next to Kipps’s side. Anger on Kat’s face mingled with absolute terror.
Bobby looked at Kipps, looked at her, and said:
‘It’s OK. It’s his good side.’
The next second was the most sinister. Terror on Kat’s face turned into pure cold gloating – which instantly dissolved into her rage.
‘I hate you, Quill Kipps!’ she hissed as she was striking his hand again and again until there was nothing left of the flowers but a few bare stems. When that happened, she tossed them off onto the bedside table and everything lying on it. ‘Choke on that!’
And without wasting another glance on him, she spun around and marched towards the door.
‘Come, Bobby!’
Bobby eyed her, eyed Kipps (who was still in stupor) and took a step in the opposite direction as if not willing to go away. He took another doughnut from the bag and nodded to Kipps respectfully.
‘Get well soon. And thanks for the doughnuts, they are superb.’
He turned around and raced after Kat. The door opened and closed again.
Quill pulled out a flower from somewhere behind his ear.
‘Hey, fellows! Hm… Thanks for popping in! See you! I guess?
Bobby caught up with Kat in the corridor and strode next to her, cautiously glancing sidelong at the furious expression on her face. She eyed him in contempt.
‘How can you even think of eating that guck?’
Bobby shrugged tucking into his doughnut.
‘It’sh tashty.’
When they went out into the street, Kat sighed and said, ‘You know, you were right, Bobby. Wish we brought roses.’
And she put her arm around his shoulders as they walked away from the hospital.
I confess, sometimes I think the only reason I long for a Bartimaeus/Lockwood crossover is because I need a ship called KittyKat to exist. I’m not even talking about their personalities, it’s just how cool it sounds!
Yeees, I can definitely see Lucy on drums!! in fact, I can't see her on anything but drums!:D And if the Skull is on their album art, does that mean they’re playing death metal?:D Or some goth/emo stuff? I need answers here!
A study for my previous drawing. Usually the studies I make go straight into the bin, but I kind of like this one, it has the energy I was looking for.
andulkaphoto
yousharknotpass
2087
prguitarman
