Concept Art Writing Prompt: Blue Girl in the Chemist's Lair

Illustration for article titled Concept Art Writing Prompt: Blue Girl in the Chemists Lair

In his Blue Girl series of illustrations, artist Sungwon creates striking scenes focused on a single character, a girl all in blue. It's left to us, the viewers, to imagine the story behind each individual scene. What can you come up with for this one?


Sungwon has ten Blue Girl illustrations so far, some clearly connected while others stand alone (via Ian Brooks). So tell us your Blue Girl story and post it in the comments.

Here's mine:

When Blue Girl grew older and her color faded to a light periwinkle, she would reflect on that night she spent hidden on the chemist's floor. She'd remember the way her dress kept catching on a splintered plank, and how she kept farting from the black-and-white beans the Dragon of Blacksbane had cooked for her lunch, and worried the chemist might notice the smell. She remember the chemist's long, leather shoes as he paced about, muttering formulas that might as well have been mystical incantations to Blue Girl's ears. She remembered willing him to grow sleepy, to abandon his study of the blue rose and go to bed. She thought she might catch fire from wishing so hard.

But mostly, she remembers the books, the grand tomes of knowledge about things Blue Girl didn't even know she was seeking. What if, instead of stealing the rose and sneaking out in the night, she had shown herself to the chemist? Could he have told her all he knew of the color blue? Could they have studied the rose together and unlocked the secrets of its elusive color? Would she, Blue Girl, have grown up to be as powerful and as frightening as the chemist himself?

She'll never know the answers to those questions. Instead, that was the night she learned that even blue girls bleed red.

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It was cold. It was always cold, but on days this cold the absent minded chemist would be forced to leave his home to get more wood for his stoves. Knowing that this was the only time the chemist ever left his home, Marta hid in the bushes of a neighbors house and waited for the strangle little man to leave. Sure enough, around two in the afternoon the chemist emerged from his house, dressed in nothing more than his white coat, and headed in the direction of the town store.

As soon as the chemist was out of view, Marta jumped out of her hiding place and ran as fast as her short legs could toward the chemist's worn down home. Knowing that the doors and windows of the home would be locked tight, Marta immediately headed for the back of the house. She had followed a pretty blue eyed cat into the secret entrance before, behind the large bush a small hole led to a loose floor board that led into the basement. The exact place Marta was interested in.

The chemist's basement laboratory somehow felt colder than the outside air Marta had just come from. Her breath made little clouds in the air as she walked around the room's many desks, all covered with vials and beakers filled with liquids whose names only the chemist could know. On one desk a beautiful blue flower stood covered by a glass jar. Marta touched the glass with her finger tips, wishing she could hold the flower.

Then, something caught her attention in the corner of her eye. On a small desk near the stairs to main floor, the shiny gold sides of a picture frame called out to her. Hidden behind a stack of books was a picture of a familiar couple. The ugly little chemist with his sharp teeth and boney features, looked at least better groomed in his younger days. Next to him stood a young woman that would have been unremarkable if it wasn't for a pair of gorgeous dark blue eyes. Eyes that made the now deceased bride of the chemist look alive and well in the picture.

A door slamming upstairs jolted her from her admiration of the women. It was then when she noticed an old leather billfold sitting on the desk, that absent minded chemist had forgotten it. As she listened to the sounds of steps approaching the basement door, Marta ran for cover under one of the lab tables. The door opened, the little man rushed to his desk, retrieved the billfold, and rushed back upstairs. He was about to close the door to the basement when the sound of a book hitting the ground filled the room.

The chemist walked slowly down the stairs and then across the room to where Marta was hiding. She watched as a pair of wet shoes stopped next to a book lying on the floor, directly in front of where she was hiding. Slowly, an arm came down and a small hand rested on the book. Marta instinctively reached out an grabbed the chemist's wrist, “Boo,” she screamed.

The chemist shouted, grabbed his chest and staggered backward. “What are you doing here!” he screeched.

“I'm just checking on your progress,” she said. “And I don't see much. Where are the mice?”

“There all dead,” the little man said nervously. “I don't think I can do this.”

“Oh,” she said, circling the chemist. “That's too bad,” she motioned at the desk. “You know your wife had beautiful eyes.” She smiled and started for the stairs.

“Wait,” he said, a small tear in the corner of his eye. “I'll keep trying.”

“Good,” Marta smiled. She saw a reflection of her self in a small mirror on the wall. Her eyes were completely blue with no iris or pupil. They were beautiful she thought, and soon everyone in the town that teased her because of them, would soon have a pair for themselves.