L'APPEL DU VIDE
okay so. jack! jack. what a collection of guys. the overlap between jack and the beanstalk and jack the giant killer, though. that sure is something! sometimes king arthur is there, which always takes me by surprise.
this. specifically. is an idea I've been kicking around. jack and the beanstalk is not a story I've ever enjoyed, as a kid it was probably my least favorite to read. as an adult, I was INTENSELY fascinated by reading j.g. ballard's the drowned giant. I think about it frequently, and somewhere during a re read of it, I ended up revisiting jack.
combining different versions of jack into one character is not a new concept, but it IS a fun one! the version I've been assembling together plays less with the fun elements of a jack story (and adjacent folklore stories), and focuses more on the potential for tragic elements with the addition of the usual grim and jagged narrative edges that I personally enjoy.
jack with the backstory of the devil and the three golden hairs, only jack doesn't find love, he's TIRED, all he wants to do is go home, but there isn't a home to go back to. what is the point of being born lucky if this is what it gets you? jack the giant killer, only he doesn't want to kill giants, jack who saw a body of a giant when he was a small child and cannot bring himself to do as a king commands. jack, who climbs up the beanstalk and stops halfway to look down. etc.
to go back to the drowned giant real quick, both to set the tone about jack seeing the body of a giant as a youth, and also because I've been haunted and obsessed with this excerpt of it ever since I read it:
J. G. Ballard, The Drowned Giant
anyway! this was originally like, a two illustration concept to get out of my system. however. I'm halfway through outlining a narrative. so. maybe it will also be several illustrations and also comic.
bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost
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Eddie is super excited about going on CC’s first tour. They just realised an EP, they have a couple of their favourite covers on the set list and a couple of venues are even sold out closer to home. His bags are packed and in the hallway, guitar securely in its case.
He isn’t excited to leave Hawkins.
Or, more specifically, his bed and the boy who has made a home in it.
The first alarm goes off around 9am. Steve sleeps right through it but Eddie has been in and out of sleep all night. He hits the snooze button and pulls the cover over his head. He’s in no rush, the guys won’t be around until 12pm to set off for Indianapolis.
The second alarm is one Steve set, knowing this would happen. 9:10am. He stirs, stretching out his arm to find Eddies hair to tangle his fingers into. Instead, he finds a mound of duvet moving up and down softly.
“Eds?”
“Hm.” The duvet is pulled up to reveal only Eddies face, a little red and pouty.
“Don’t make me leave, you can’t.” He says looking up into Steve’s eyes. Steve moves himself down, pulling the duvet over his head and soon they are breathing into each others air.
“You’ve been so excited for this since you were, like, 12 what’s giving you cold feet now?” Steve furrows his eyebrows.
“You.”
Steve softened.
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Rover sent me an article a while back talking about how letting the dog sleep in bed with you is bad for the quality of your sleep, and I have a little health tracker app that includes "dog in the bedroom" as a factor that could be negatively affecting my sleep, and like... Listen, I hear you, but consider this:
he my baby???????????
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“But just now an intelligent and I must admit, very attractive young woman had just chosen Lord Golden’s companionship over mine.
‘There’s no accounting for tastes,’ I told Whitecap, who was looking after his departing mistress with an aggrieved air.”
*****
“‘Good. And now we must all try to get what rest we can before tomorrow’s hunt. Good night,Tom.’
‘Good night, Lord Golden, huntswoman Laurel.’
After a moment or two of silence, I realized something. I had been expecting Laurel to leave so that I could secure the door behind her. I had wanted to tell the Fool about the basket and the dead rabbit, but Laurel and Lord Golden were waiting for me to leave. She was studying a tapestry on a wall with an intensity it did not merit, while Lord Golden contentedly contemplated the gleaming fall of Laurel’s hair.
I wondered if I should lock the outer door for them, then decided that would be an oafish act. If lord golden wanted it locked, he would do it. ‘Good night,’ I repeated, trying to sound sleepy and not awkward. I took a candle and went to my own chamber, shutting the connecting door gently behind me. I undressed and got into bed, refusing to let my mind wander beyond that closed door. I felt no envy, I told myself, only the sharper bite of my loneliness in contrast to what they might be sharing.”
*******
“I turned and found the Fool regarding me sleepily. He lay on his side in his bed, his chin propped on his fist. He looked weary, but insufferably pleased about something. The effect made him look years younger.
‘I didn’t expect to see you in your bed this morning,’ I greeted him, and then, ‘How did you get in? I latched that door last night.’
‘Did you? Interesting. But you can scarcely be more surprised to see me in my own bed than I am to see you in yours.’
*****
“Was my friend honestly losing his heart to her? I considered her silent profile as she rode alongside me. He could do far worse. She was healthy and young and a good hunter.”
- Fool’s Errand (Tawny Man #1) by Robin Hobb
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