Some writing, essentially

Also, today I watched War Horse. I cried.

The worst part was that the two German brothers made me think a whole lot about the two brothers I'm currently writing about, down to the situation (=potentially life-threatening). So my heart broke a bit when, and how, their story ended. Especially as the elder brother looks a bit like the story's elder brother. I was like, speechless. Dear god.
(and awesome movie, all in all. Really beautiful, if a bit romanticzed. The truce scene with the horse was absolutely genius. Not very believable, but who knows XD)

I didn't do much drawing this week. In fact, only an info pic for my compendium, which is still far from finished. I've been more obsessed with those brothers' story. So, here's a bit from the currently 14 written pages.

There's another tidbit available on Facebook that comes a short while after the one below. :)

(also, since I think about it: I guess this'd be an example of what'd be available on a Patreon of mine: not just these tidbits, but the entirety of the draft. And likely all sorts of assorted information.)

"So, tell me, Scrawny," Ines had begun after a sip of wine, "How's your sister Anna doing?"

Ethan had frozen – subtly, he had hoped. After a quick glance at Ines, and seeing his not-so-subtle smirk, Ethan had winced and resumed painting. "She's fine. Why do you ask?"

"Good, good," Ines had sipped again of his wine, "What about your dad? Giounai, right?"

This time, Ethan's hands had lowered as he'd frowned, eyes fixed upon Ines.

It had felt strange for this man, who had forgotten his name in a matter of minutes on the first evening, to somehow know the exact names of two members of his family. He had remembered how Ines had fumbled with Giounai's name – which, as is as widely known in Desri as his father himself, is as foreign a name as they come. Difficult to speak out – 'jee-oo-nigh', which most shortened to 'joo-nigh'.

Ethan had known – he had felt it, creeping along his skin: the foreboding sense of imminent danger. That a man such as Ines had made a point to know names and articulate them to perfection could be no mere coincidence. He would soon be proven right.

"Why are you asking?"

"What, can't I show some interest in your life?"

"Not you, no." The words had rushed out of Ethan's mouth before he realized what he was saying, and with what tone: anxiety blended with a hint of resistance.

And Ines, as per his insidious nature, simply had grinned in response. He would remain silent until Ethan, with visible difficulty due to instilled fear, had resumed work.

After the third nervous glance shot his way, Ines had spoken. "And how's your little brother doing, Gregory, right? Heard he's gotten himself into some trouble with the Honorary."

Ethan had felt himself go limp. The brush fell from his hand.

"Quite the disappointment, wasn't it – discovering your little brother is a failed criminal.

"I know everything there is to know about you," Ines had continued, in response to Ethan's worried yet defiant look, "I have to say, you're more courageous than I'd have guessed at first glance. Coming here on your own, warning no one… You could die here tonight and no one would know where to look for you. Well, you'd be dead," Ines had burst out into laughter, "but you get what I mean, don't you."

Yes, Ethan had understood Ines' meaning quite well: no one had known, indeed, where he'd gone to – not even Gregory himself. No one had known what trouble he had gotten into, nor for what reason. He had been so stupid. So young and stupid.

At the same time, Ethan would realize in the months, the years that would come, this dire situation had forced him to confront his own weaknesses, his fears of inadequacy… and though he would not overcome them on that evening, its ramifications would alter the very course of his life.

Ethan had swallowed hard, never taking his eyes off Ines. "You're not going to kill me, are you. I'm not done with your portrait."