VIRAGO

Because what I always wanted from my Les Mis adaptations was more Tholomyès.  :/ 

.......So yeah.  This is still happening...

Pierre:

Natasha:

Anatole:

Helene:

Sonya:

Marya Dmitrievna:

Dolokhov:

Marya Bolkonskaya:

Andrei/Old Bolkonsky:

Balaga:

Well, thanks for tuning in for this year’s Virago Art Challenge all July long, and I thought I’d throw you guys a little WIP post to put a neat cap on it!  This is Day 29, a barricading Enjolras, from start to finish:

1.) Finished pencil lineart, scanned.  This one was done on an art board of some sort.  (I don’t know what they’re called, but they sell them in Japanese stationary stores, and I’m told they’re supposed to be for getting celebrity autographs and stuff?  Whatever the case, they take mixed media shockingly well, considering they just feel like a piece of printer paper attached to a bit of cardboard.)

2.) The start of the ink wash process: it’s hard to tell in this photo, but there’s a very thin yellowish wash over the whole piece except for the flesh-colored and white parts. 

3.) Flesh tones have been filled in completely, the shading on the pants has been started, and a few other details have been started, too.

4.)  Hair is fully colored in, and I’ve laid down an ink under-layer on the flag, to make it easier to color it seamlessly with marker.

5.) Flag is in the process of being colored with Copics marker.

6.) Flag is fully colored, and some of the lineart has been darkened.

7.) All the ink under-layers have been added, and more lineart has been darkened.

8.) More lineart has been darkened, and you can see the process I used to color in the coat with mechanical pencil, which I’ve started here on the sleeve.

9.)  Finished piece, color boosted on Photoshop.

10.)  Detail of the finished piece.

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 31

Combeferre had just joined us, and at this, he said, “The dormitory at Louis-le-Grand was nothing to remember with fondness, that I can attest to.”

“And yet we always found ways to amuse ourselves there, in that horrid freezing old room,” said Courfeyrac, and for once, there was none of his usual coquetry in this comment.

“Like the Great Dormitory Uprising of 1819, I suppose?” said Combeferre. “You found that awfully amusing at the time, as I recall.”

“Uprising?” I said with a smile.

“Our class barricaded the dormitory,” said Courfeyrac.

“And narrowly avoided being dismissed from the school,” said Combeferre.

“They had to bring in the gendarmes to pacify us,” said Courfeyrac proudly.

“I lived in dread of my parents getting that letter from the headmaster,” shuddered Combeferre.

“You know,” I said placidly, “Agnès was quite correct in her assessment of you two.  You are, and always have been, utterly shameless troublemakers.”

--Virago 1831.19

Combeferre and Courfeyrac as little Louis-le-Grand scamps, back when everyone still had Napoleonic hair.  :3

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 30

Sexy Enjolras and Combeferre.  You see, I do know what you guys really come here for.  ;)

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 29

The Virago Enjolras doing what she does best: barricading, of course.  :)

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 28

This badass Feuilly was planned as an oil painting, but I only got as far as the sketch and the partial acrylic under-painting, so that’s what you’re getting for now.  The usual deal: if he turns out crappy, you’ll probably never see any more of him, but if he ends up okay, he’ll eventually pop up on here.  ;)

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 27

What is with these Prouvaires lately...?  They’ve all been looking a little depressed......

This one appears to be (reluctantly?) on the warpath, getting ready for the 1830 “festivities”...

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 26

What better to do with a Feuilly than to make a fan featuring him?

Here we have an 1832 barricades Feuilly chilling on a multimedia uchiwa.  And yes, despite all the barricade bling on it, it still works nicely as a fan...As Feuilly would want it.  :3

(On a related note, this marks the first time I’ve used an elementary school glue stick in quite a while...)

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 25

“To be honest,” he said slowly, “I must admit that my motives are not entirely unselfish.”  He glanced up at me and quickly back down again, a flick of the eyes that gave off such intense feeling that I almost drew back from him.  “You must know that I care for you very much,” he said in a careful sort of way that dragged each word out, in the manner of a child giving an excuse for a misdeed.  “I’d like you to know that I—”

“It goes without saying,” I interrupted him gently, hoping he would be discreet enough to know when to hold back.

“No, I ought to say it,” he replied.  His gaze was fixed on his hands where they lay in his lap, fiddling nervously with his cuffs.  “I…For a long time, I’ve…”

“Stop,” I ordered him.  

“Won’t you at least let me say it?” he exclaimed, hurt.

“It’s better that you don’t,” I replied, but as I made a move to rise from the bed, he took hold of my hand and said, pleading:

“Have mercy on me, I beg you.”

“You should go,” I said without raising my gaze from the floor.  These fumbling attempts of his were terrifying.  My heart was pounding as though it would burst, and there was a cold sweat forming on my brow.  Standing there in only my nightshirt, my hand clasped in his, I felt suddenly the weight of this indiscretion as I never had before.  It seemed to me that he must be staring at me, at the body outlined by that paper-thin fabric—the breasts, hips, thighs that my shirt clung to, the naked legs—and I felt that my face was flushed in shame.

--Virago 1830.8

Even Enjolras and Combeferre (especially them!) had the “relationship growing pains”......

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 24

“‘And have you heard?’ said Prouvaire.  ‘The Friends of the People won’t prepare for war in France, but they want to send more troops to Belgium to help the revolution there.  They’re setting up a collection to equip such a battalion, and they’ll be asking for volunteers.  A revolutionary expedition in Belgium—such a romantic adventure that would be!  If only!’  And the glance he cast down at his crippled leg expressed all the hatred a man can feel for his own body’s weakness.”

--Virago, 1831.5

Prouvaire looking a little bummed...maybe about his 1830 war wound again.  :’(

On the upside, he is ponytailed (!), so that’s cute, I guess...? .....  :’(

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 23

A little Enjolras “doll” that I stitched up (I guess you could call her a sort of appliqué, though that doesn’t really make sense because she isn’t actually stitched down to the background...).  She looks like she’s in a hurry to get off and get rabble-rousing with that little newspaper of hers.  :3

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 22

Combeferre is totally capable of raising his eyes to heaven without expiring, thank you very much.

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 21

Combeferre and Enjolras, and a lot of affectionate side-eye.

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 20

Laigle can finally get a smoke in, when Joly’s not around to sneeze at it...

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 19

Combeferre sighed, rubbed his eyes, and said, “I don’t know why I’m being such a bore, forgive me.  These kinds of parties make me feel very low.  I know I shouldn’t feel that way, and I know you’ll never understand because you don’t give a damn about things like class and wealth, but truly, I feel like a peasant in these places.  And that’s when I start thinking, Well, at least in Gap I fit in with all the other peasants.’  He regarded me with a grave look and added, “You know that I would do anything for you, but if it weren’t you asking, I would never come to a place like this.”

I wasn’t sure what I ought to say to him.  It wasn’t a subject that had ever come up between us.  In my experience among the students of Paris, I had never met any young man who made class or wealth a prerequisite for friendship.  All were free and welcoming with their affection, and our friends were among the most so.  I had always known, somewhere in the back of my mind, that Combeferre and I weren’t equals in the eyes of society at large, but I had never seen the difference between us.  Even if I did consider our respective social positions, I could not fathom where the difference was between a man born of small-town bourgeois and a woman born of rural nobility.

But it pained me that a man so noble in spirit could be brought low by these shallow creatures who happened to have been born noble in blood.  It pained me even more to be the one who had exposed him to that humiliation, and I resolved that if it were a choice between Agnès and Combeferre on this issue, surely my duty was to him first.

“All right,” I said at last.  “I’m done playing by Agnès’ rules.  She wanted me to avoid causing a scandal, by which I suppose she meant I should treat you carefully and avoid giving any grounds for gossip.  But you know, I think I just realized how we might make this awful party a little more interesting.”

“Oh là,” said Combeferre with a sigh.  “This is going to get us into trouble, isn’t it.”

“I’m sure Agnès will be furious with me,” I said, “but I can live with that.  I want you to know with absolute certainty that I think you’re a far better man than these fools are.”

“Saying that is enough, you don’t have to—”

“No, I want them to know it too.”

He caught my little smile, and said apprehensively, “What kind of scandal did you have in mind?”

“Not a big one,” I said.  “I’m not that ambitious tonight.  Just a little scandal will do.”  And I took him by the hand.  “Dance with me.”

He drew back from me a bit, shocked.  “I can’t do that.”

“You can’t dance?”

“Of course I can dance,” he said indignantly.  “It’s just…I’m not—and you—and Agnès!—And I thought you hated dancing anyway.  ‘Meaty hands,’ and all that.” I laughed.  “Come on, let’s go in.”

“This is foolishness,” Combeferre murmured, but he didn’t resist as I pulled him into the room and towards the dance floor.  “And you’re going to try to lead, aren’t you.”

“I’ll let you lead,” I offered generously.

“Very kind of you.”

“Uh-oh, there’s Agnès,” I said, steering him a bit off course.  “Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“You know, you really don’t need to prove anything to anyone,” Combeferre said timidly, a final, desperate effort as we reached the floor.

“Be a man, citizen,” I commanded him, and I placed his hand firmly on my waist.  “You have your orders, now complete the mission.”

Combeferre stood undecided for a moment, gazing reluctantly at the other dancing couples.  At last making up his mind, he gave a short nod, suddenly every inch my level-headed lieutenant, took my hand, and pulled me out onto the floor.  His hand, resting at the small of my back, steered me gently through the steps with steady self-assurance.  

“Hold me closer,” I instructed him.  “Make it a little more indecent, if you please.”

In those days the waltz was danced either at arms’ length—the polite style, for society balls—or else pressed closely together—the vulgar style, good only for the lowest of dancehalls and guinguettes.  Naturally we had both been trained in the polite style, but a nice taste of scandal could be sparked just by drawing the partner a bit closer than was considered acceptable.  I did not go so far as to press my body to his, but as we moved across the floor together, we were close enough to feel the whisper of contact as the silk of my bodice brushed against the wool of his coat lapels.  Combeferre was struggling not to blush at that sensation, but to his credit, he did his job admirably and with the greatest professionalism.

--Virago, 1828.15

Among the many reasons Enjolras can’t be brought into polite society...

Virago Art Challenge 2018: Day 18

Even our poet Prouvaire gets writer’s block, just like the rest of us... ;)