... The next Trump depicted a street-side cafe', sunlight
streaming in through the trees and bushes to light the white enamled chairs, tables
covered with pink tablecloths, and the subject of the card who sat at one of them.
He was clad in sleek black slacks, brown leather shoes, a cream-colored sweater,
and a yellow shirt beneath the sweater. A turtle atop a heart was stiched on the
pocket of the sweater. His red-violet hair was straight and well-tended, framing his
slim, almost effeminite features. His left hand rested in his lap while his right
elbow rested on the table, holding a love-letter in his hand.
This was Aburatsubo, Touga's son, a kind and gentle man who was one of my favorite
nephews. His skill at sorcery was well known -- as was his sexual preferences,
for he was quite unreservedly attracted to men, not women. But for some reason
(much to my surprise), this did not upset Touga or Suu (his parents), nor the rest
of the family. This was a rare and special thing, which I knew full well.
I wished him the best of luck, adventuring with my granddaughter, Shiori. However,
I wasn't about to place any bets on him scoring with Orien. ...
... This Trump was set closer to home. It illustrated one of Castle Amber's many practice halls; with
the number of martial artists and warriors this family's produced, it's amazing that
we haven't run out of them. The dark wood was stained to reveal its grain, the high
windows thin but providing sufficient light, the tatami mats fresh and unsoiled. Within
the room a youngster stood with sharp similarity to my half-brother Touga. However, his build
was somewhat slimmer, his hair lavender instead of red, and his expression much less cunning
-- more thoughtful and earnest than what we expected from his father. He was clad in
red gi and black hakama, and his left hand held a practice sword at his side.
Kiyoharu ("Haru" to most of us), was a philosopher-warrior, much in the same vein
as my sister Juri. But his focus had led towards trying to understand the
cosmic balances and how they might affect us. This had led to some snarkiness
from others in the family -- but he had chosen his own path, as had we all. ...
... Over time, I have come to recognize certain temperments and preferences
in my family members and their children, especially when capturing their
essances in paintings. And if I hadn't already known that Kaname, my niece,
had a love for the sea, her Trump certainly would have laid all doubts to rest.
In it, she was seated on the edge of a pier, a sailing ship in the distance.
She was clothed in a blue shirt and green pants, an echo of her usual Rebman
naval uniform's colors. Her deep blue hair hung straight and long, and her
brown eyes were quietly kind and thoughtful as she looked out at the viewer.
The sun was slowly setting behind her, the sky and clouds turned multiple
shades, but she was unconcerned with the coming twilight.
This was the newest daughter of Miki and Madoka -- Kaname, the Crown Princess
of Rebma, now that Mitsune had gone on to rule Arcadia. She was a good sort,
strong and navally skilled -- and one of the younger generation member's who
had taken a deep interest in the arts of trump. Indeed, she knew more than I had at her
age by far; though she didn't know everything... yet. After all, a Queen
has to keep some secret techniques for herself. ...
... It was not often that I needed to revise one of my trumps, given the amount
of time and energy invested in their creation, duplication, and distribution... but
the events of the past weeks had all but required changes to be made to one of
my trumps of the youngest generation.
In this card, a woman clad in white, trimmed in black and gold, stood among the stones
that led to the stairs to Tir'na'nog, which shimmered in the air behind her, leading
up to the dream castle. The plains of Harad could be seen in the distance; nighttime
had not yet fallen, and the sky was painted with both clouds and stars. Her face and
body were half in light, half in shadow, a theme echoed by the Yin/Yang emblem in the
hilt of the sword she held in her left hand. Her right hand
held up a golden rose, freshly plucked, held beneath a face that was both soft and
sharp, wearing an expression that was unfamiliar to me -- and, I suspected, to her
as well. Her hair was red and straight, tied back into a long ponytail, but some
of her bangs had already sprung free, adding a tousled look to her overall demeanor.
This was Nanami Minor. A woman of dedication, strength, and many contradictions,
who had recently cracked the shell of her self-hate to restart her life anew, to
dare to dream again. Although I didn't understand the full cirumstances of what
had caused her original change in demeanor so many years ago, I felt could emphasize a
little with the feelings she might have had, when one's universe had been turned
upside down and then only much later righted. I wished her well on her new path,
for what it was worth. ...
... The next card portrayed a person who was a study of contrasts, and
of whom nobody could have a simple opinion. He was clad all in dark green, though
a shouldeless blue greatcoat, trimmed in white, hung over his jacket and pants.
Silver-white hair hung down his back and over his face, hiding one eye on his tanned
face. A tawny owl flew for his shoulder, ready to perch; while a dark blade
crackled in his right hand, lightning playing over its face. Fires billowed
in the background and lit him from behind.
I was of mixed minds of the man shown in the Trump I had painted. For he
was Setsuna, son of Kuonji. And while I had respect for his martial skill
and his knowledge of lores far beyond my own, part of me was utterly convinced
he was a fruitcake. For how in the Pyricorn's name could he believe that
'Cone People' were in control of every little conspiracy known to our family?
His beliefs baffled me, even now. But part of me was determined not to judge him
based on his upbringing and his 'father'. The rest of me just felt that avoidance
was best for all involved.
And I was still curious as to who his 'mother' was. ...
... This Trump felt like a concert advertisement, and with good reason. Within it,
a woman stood proudly, accepting the accolades of the crowd as she finished
another performance. Her skin was tanned, which contrasted well with the
white jacket and pants, trimmed with blue, that she openly wore. A blue
tank top was visible within the open jacket's front. Her right hand held
a microphone, while her left was raised to catch the rose petals that floated
down from the ceiling of the stage. Her hair was short and pale blue, and her
blue eyes were filled with merryment.
This was Random Tenjou, self-styled Rose Prince, woman of multiple bloodlines,
star of stage, screen, and the battlefield. Indeed, she was perhaps more skilled
at the arts of war than anybody else in her generation -- she pulled off maneuvers
naturally, almost without thinking about it. But she most often put those skills
to work in organizing her cross-shadow concerts and promotional tours. She too had
decided to learn the arts of Trump, which was refreshing. After the paucity of
artists in my generation, we certainly needed more around!
As for her relationship with my sister, Juri... well, I was still trying to decide
how I felt about that. ...
... This card was one of my more dramatic, action-packed efforts. On reflection,
it was probably influenced by Morgenstern's trumps, which tended towards emulating
action movie posters. It was certainly dynamic, as it depicted a thick-necked,
burly man clad in a blue uniform and orange jacket smashing his way through
a window from a medival street, firing a heavy crossbow into the room beyond.
The expression in his green eyes beneath his thick green eyebrows and short
green hair was driven, determined -- and perhaps a little crazed as well.
I shook my head. Ota Minor, of the Royal Family of Arcadia, kin to our own --
he was a good boy, and he meant well, but he tried a little too hard to live up
to the example of certain branches of the family. His
obsession with firearms and other weapons of mass hoseage didn't help matters. ...
... Within the following card, a guardsman crouched as he spun in place,
a slivery rapier in his right hand. His blonde hair was tied back in a
ponytail, while his bangs framed his stocky, green-eyed face. His green,
white-trimmed shortsleeve jacket hung open to reveal a lighter green
shirt within. Brown leather pants and belt sheathed his legs, while
knee-high black boots and black gloves trimmed in gold covered his
extremities. The wood-paneled room around him was partially smashed,
due to the brawl that he was a part of.
This was Tomos Valois du Therin. He was the pride of Castle Amber's
Palace Guard, and I tried to capture some of his adventuresome nature
in his Trump. But these days his outgoing spirit was being tempered,
hammered on the anvil of circumstance, as many revelations were being
made known to him, circling around himself and his loved ones. I hoped
that they would not break him -- but one cannot know what stresses
the Child of Metal can endure without testing. ...
... The tall, long-haired blonde woman stood with her back to me in the middle
of a field at night. She was clad in a long dress made of green fabric;
it had long sleeves, and a large applique of a butterfly on its back.
She looked back at me with a proud expression in her brown eyes,
and her left hand was lifted in thumbs-up gesture. The night sky
was filled with stars, with the constellations of Ursa Minor and
Ursa Major most prominent. But even though it was night, multi-colored
butterflies took to the sky.
This was Arisa Uotani, one of the Castle Amber Guard's success stories. She
was strong, much like Kanna, and she also had hidden depths, like her skills
at dressmaking. She didn't take much guff from anyone, and I approved of her. ...
... The scene in the next card depicted a green valley with a winding golden
road leading to a gleaming emerald city, filled with buildings of green
crystal, gems, and metals. However, high above the city and the low clouds
flew a woman on a broomstick. She was clad in black and grey, with a black
pointed hat, but interestingly she wore red ruby slippers. She looked at
the viewer with cool amusement in her dark eyes, and her right hand played
with the braid made out of her black hair.
The third of Castle Amber's notable Special Agents, Hanajima Saki was
Dowager Queen Anthy's protege'. She was skilled in the arts of the mind
and the winds, and she used them both to further protect Amber's interests.
She was certain to go places, of this I was sure. ...
... What a difference a day can make! This new trump of Hanajima was much like the prior one I had painted of her, but the figure within was 'warmer', for lack of a better word. Her hair was now a dark reddish brown and her eyes green, adding an openess to her face that wasn't there before. Through the actions of others, she had been made whole and inducted into our growing family. I will be proud to call her niece. ...
[A potential future son for Corrine and the Red Knight...]
[And another future daughter for Corrine and the Red Knight...]
[Description to come one of these days.]
... The tall, well-muscled man stood on a rocky seaside cliff that overlooked
several rocky islands and technological periods. His dusky skin was
revealed by the fact that he had no shirt on, which revealed his well-formed
chest, but it also demonstrated the fact that life had not been as kind
to him as we had once thought. For his entire right arm had been replaced
by a magical, metal arm, grafted onto his shoulder. He looked at the
viewer with a stern expression in his dark eyes, as if to challenge
the viewer to comment about his new 'accessory'. His left hand rested
against his hip, catching a red trenchcoat in the wind, while his
lower half was clad in black leather pants and boots.
Orien. I had had my suspicions about him, but now they had
been more than confirmed from his actions in the current crisis. Far
from being the lazy, cowardly playboy he had pretended to be, he
had finally revealed the hard, sharp core of steel within him. This
was exemplified by the new trump I had painted of him, at Shiori's
insistance. ...
... This trump wasn't a recent one; it had been drawn by me soon after my
niece had re-entered the navy. She stood on the deck of one of Amber's
ships, the decking clean and the rigging straight. Pale blue clouds
traced across the sky, and the sea was calm. Shiori herself stood
proudly, her naval jacket removed to reveal a violet tank top that
showed off her muscular arms and Harad build to good effect. Her sword,
a gift from my sister, her mother, rested in her gloved right hand,
while her left waited on her hip above the sword's scabbard.
She smiled at the viewer, her wide blue eyes drawing you in towards her
face, framed by her wavy raspberry hair and her crimson forelock which
jutted out like a question mark. But her expression was mixed, and
there was a shadow behind her eyes that I didn't quite fathom -- a
tentativeness, an unsurety that was at odds to her public persona. Was
she uncertain of her good fortune, much like Kanna felt at times? What
had she seen in her decades out in Shadow to make her feel like this?
I did not know, but I did know one thing -- she hadn't walked the Fire
Pattern in nearly two decades, even though I knew she had walked the
others regularly in that time.
That worried me. ...
[Yet more Quantum Geneology for Kanna and Ruka, folks!]
[And another future daughter for Kanna and Ruka...]
... The woman was tall and slim, clad in formal, religious robes
of white. They were trimmed with purple cloth, as deep as her long
violet hair, which was tied back with a wide, red ribbon. Her
skin was pale and her eyes were closed, her face lifted up in an
expression of supplication, or rapture. In her right hand she held
four wards, in her left a prayer-stick topped with a golden metal
bird. Flames rose up behind her in the Trump, again in the shape
of a giant bird of prey.
This was Akari, Princess of Amber -- and despite how much she had
been battered by the twists of fate and fortune in her quest to
resolve issues from the past, she had endured the crucible to be
reborn as the Song of the Phoenix, the voice that escorts the
spirits home.
I had a feeling that before this was all over, Akari would find
out she had gotten more than she had bargained for. ...
... This next card was a more recent one, but I was pretty proud of it.
Its subject, a purple-haired woman in an abbreviated black bodysuit,
spun in place in the middle of an ancient ruin in Shadow, her green
and maroon cloak whipping around her body, hiding and revealing
her slim frame in turns. Her lower legs and arms were sheathed with
practical leather boots and bracers, and in her hands she held three
thick knives. Her green eyes went with her expression, which seemed
to be that of cool calculation.
She was a newcomer to the family, but she had been openly welcomed.
She was Chloe, another daughter of Kozue, lover of all things
Pattern. I knew that we'd get along like a house afire. ...
... I tend to be leery around large quantities of water, as a rule. Oh,
it has its place, of course -- and one can create some interesting things
with it in the right situations (Shinobu Minor, for one -- my hubby and I
certainly had fun making her!) -- but it isn't generally something
I dive right into, unless the proper precautions can be made. But who could
help -not- getting involved in the setting for the next trump? Water
fountains sprayed about, pouring into a large pool with a rock outcropping
in the middle. On it sat a purple-haired lass with blue streaks in that hair,
her body fit and shown off to effect due to the fact that her
clothes were wet and clung to her skin, revealing the bikini underneath.
Of course, she had specifically requested that pose...
This was Yurika, sister to Kaname, a princess of Rebma -- in some ways
the same (like their interests in Trump) and other ways diametric opposites
(one would need VOLUMES to write all the liasons Yurika had engaged in. Kaname?
You could fill a pamphlet. Maybe). I liked her, though. She was definitely
one of the more fun-loving members of the family. And her ways of
combining physical combat and trump were pretty damn cool.
And, believe it or not, Shiori had not slept with her. That amazed me,
even now. ...
... The young woman sat in the sunlight amidst an ancient ruin, worn
stone blocks and a carved, broken-down head of some statue scattered around
and behind her. She was clad in soft leather pants and boots, and leather
bracers covered her forearms while her torso was clad in a yellow-orange
tank top, allowing a goodly amount of lightly-tanned skin to show from her
upper arms and midriff. She rested easily and comfortably, her wide grey eyes and
light orange hair catching the light and framing her face which held a quiet
calm smile as she leaned on the staff in her hands, the shaft topped with
a curious device -- as well as an Elder Sign embedded in the wood.
She was Haruka Minimus, one of the youngest Harads of the family, born of
a night of accidental passion between Juri and Miki brought about by an insane
construct which would be better off dead -- but despite her star-crossed
heritage, she was well-loved by those who had born her and watched over her.
I knew that several among the family (especially mother, sis, and Shiori)
hoped that others would be able to overlook that checkered past. ...
... Shapely and full figured, the woman in the next Trump stood poised
with two violet fans in her hands, hiding part of herself while leaving
the rest exposed -- though this did nothing to halt her allure, as she
was sheathed in a sleeveless violet dress with an opening revealing her
ample clevage. Her expression was sultry, violet eyes above a smug
smile, long black hair with purple highlights trailing past her hips.
Behind her stood a folding screen, its faces decorated with violets.
It should come to no surprise to anybody that the woman's name was
'Violet'. Violet Butler, to be exact, another in a long line of
Butler Beauties. She was as skilled with her words as she was with
her combat fans, and could put them to good effect in getting her
point across and completing difficult negotiations. ...
... I turned over the next card, and sighed. It depicted a lightskinned,
bookish-looking young woman with long black hair, standing within a large,
high-ceiling library. She was clad sensibly -- in blouse, vest, skirt, and
a rumpled trenchcoat -- her earnest expression, glasses, and slight
disheveledness offsetting the figure she had underneath. She held a fan
of five index cards in her right hand, and the handle of a travelling
briefcase stuffed with paper in the other. The sunlight streamed through
unseen windows, lighting the library and the woman and the rows of
shelves behind her -- but there was also a hint of darkness in the
cavernous room and the shadows cast within.
This was Yomiko.
Yomiko, Yomiko, Yomiko Butler... I had once thought you bookish, but an
okay sort -- after all, those who don't take the time to read often suffer
for it, and you were certainly not shy of the printed word. And your skills
with magic and plantlife I had some cause to respect, even though Fire and
Wood do not usually get along. But since then I had learned what ELSE
you had learned, from books best left untouched save by the Pyricorn's
purifying Pattern flames. What the HELL had you been thinking,
girl?!
It would appear that Wisdom, in your case, could not be learned from books. ...
"As I gazed on the card, I felt a sense of the good humor of the woman upon whom
I was looking. She smiled broadly as she shimmered on the verge of shapeshifting, but
I could make out her long brown hair, tied back in a ponytail, and her large green
eyes, which glinted with merryment. She dressed in black and gold this day, black
pants and a gold tunic, and twin short swords hung at her hips. Just from her stance,
I knew she was a woman to be reckoned with if you roused her to anger; but that was
a force not easily unleashed.
She stood on the shores of a beach somewhere in Shadow, a jetty cutting into the
waves, and I knew that she commanded the waters as expertly as she shapeshifted --
for she was Katherine d'Medici, Amber's newest Special Agent and a water elementalist
of renown."
... A tanned man with dark hair and dark green eyes sat on a low pilinth
in the middle of an austere stone valley, carved pillars of rock jutting up into
the pale blue sky. The entire trump had a feeling of warmth to it, from
the background haze to the firey motif of the man's priestly robes, yet he
he appeared unaffected by the heat, and if anything, welcomed it. A black-furred
wolf sat at his feet, while a four-armed brown gargoyle danced with a
serpent made of fire in the sky above him.
Former Chaosian Stylite, now Priest of Pindin and player of many roles over
the past century, Duke Davros was a formidable man who still sometimes seemed to
wonder how he had come by his present station. But the road of destiny was
often an exceptionally trying one. I just hoped that everything he had gone
through was worth it. ...
... This next Trump Card was a riot of conflicting colors, centered around
a single figure of stability and calm among the foleage that sprouted. She
was clad in a long green Lipunese kimono, held closed around the waist with
a wide red belt, and its green surface decorated with red crysathemums and
light green palm leaves. Her hair was black and straight, pulled into
a ponytail that hung from the side of her head, and her brown eyes looked
out from a lightskinned face. In her raised right hand she held a black
rose, careful to not get pricked by the thorns.
She had played many roles in her long life in Shadow and the Courts, but
the one that Lady Kodachi of Alars was most renowned for was rebuilding
the tattered shards of a broken Great House into one of the prime movers
of Chaos. While her past was still shrouded, by her own preference, she
cared deeply for her remaining children, tended her gardens, and trained
those who had the patience and persistance to study with her in the arts
of magic. Shiori was one of those people, and she had benefitted greatly
by her association with the matron of House Alars.
Now, I had to wonder what she saw in her current husband (personally,
I thought she could do much better) -- but hey, even superfreaks need
somebody to balance them. ...
... It was a pleasant day on the seashore in the next card in the deck.
On the edge of a grassy dune a man stood in profile, clad in red dress shirt
and black pants, one hand in his left pocket while his other held a red-trimmed
black jacket over his shoulder. His pose was relaxed, his expression subdued
and calm on his tanned face and in his brown eyes -- a sharp contrast from his
usual regimented demenor. The scar on his cheek and his unkempt brown hair
only added to this impression of contemplation, where usually it made a person
think he thought of warfare and nothing else.
Lord Sousuke, Heir to House Helgram, the soldier's Solider. He was, perhaps,
too stiff for his own good, but he was a good man at heart, and I knew that
Shiori approved of him. Chaos needed more guys like him, to offset the
superfreakness of the others around the place. ...
... A toned, fit woman with curled black hair walked confidently through
dun-colored rocky terrain in the next Trump card. Her skin was clear,
her green eyes were keen, and she had long black hair pulled back into a
ponytail, save for two bangs that framed her smiling face and curled at the
ends. She was clad in a sleek black bodysuit with a red-and-white jacket
over it, and white boots on her feet. Black shoulderpads trimmed in gold,
gold buttons, and black cuffs on the sleeves accentuated the jacket and
the body contained within. Behind her to her left, a gold-winged
orange harpy-woman flew in for a landing on the branch of a blasted
tree, while to her right a flaming kingfisher did the same, about to touch
down above a flaming lake of fire.
This was Orihime Soletta. She was a warrior and skilled Logrus user, a Hendrake
Hellmaiden down to her core, and perhaps Shiori's oldest friend in the entire
universe. She was certainly the first person Shiori had ever loved -- and I do
mean that term in both aspects. It wasn't like either of them denied the
fact that they had been lovers -- and although they weren't technically together
now, one could never be quite sure. But their friendship had withstood the
tests of time, and I heartily approved of her.
I did have cause to wonder, however -- what WAS it about Chaosians
and their desire to have their Trumps made on sere and desolate landscapes? ...
... I was of mixed feelings of the subject of the next card I turned over. A darkskinned
man -- well, he wasn't -really- a man, but he looked and acted like one, anyway -- stood
within the flames filling what appeared to be, of all things, a recording studio.
Gold records hung on the walls, and in front of him were turntables and other
musical equipment with which to ply his trade. He was clad in a tight, high-collared
shortsleeve red shirt, with bands of gold around his neck and wrist and a gold ring in
his nose. Spiked brown hair stood out in impossible angles around his head,
his chin tapered into a brown-haired goatee, and his eyes were hidden by gold-frammed
mirrorshades. His expression was smug and fatlipped, his smile showing clear
teeth --
-- and on his brow was tatooed a flaming letter 'M'. Typical of Morgenstern, the Construct
of Flaming Funk, my sometimes-rival, sometimes-thorn, sometimes-ally.
We didn't see eye-to-eye on many things, and we hadn't gotten off to a good start,
and one could blame it on our natures -- after all, we both were Fire Constructs,
and -he- had been Broken and Flawed from the start -- but in the end, his loyalties
were to the family and the defense of our Realities, and he hated the Outsiders as much
as I did. I just hoped that his ... 'promotion' to guarding Charcadia's Fire Pattern
didn't give him a swelled head. ...
... This card depicted a barren, rocky coastline, islands of layered stone in the distance, while clouds hung balefully in the sky. On the middle islands stood technological pyramids of chrome and iron, their ultimate functions hidden to me. This was Black Haven, Orien's staging point for the Order side of Reality. ...
[To be created once Atrus settles down and chooses a base of operations...]
Trump Cards : [Pre-Campaign]
[Through A Mirror Darkly]
[Unicorn no Seishi]
[Forth The Nine Riders]
[Related Campaigns]
Illustrations : [Pre-Campaign]
[Through A Mirror Darkly]
[Unicorn no Seishi]
[Forth The Nine Riders]
[Related Campaigns]
[Library]