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#because people tend to think anyone with a white cane (the official name. also long cane) cannot see at all :)))
senseiwu · 1 year
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Hey, I was curious on some nice canes you use? I want to draw a blind character but they don't walk anywhere in the one episode they were in. And I just wanted to check with you and some canes you own?
Hey!
People with low vision usually use what's known as a white cane. You've probably seen 'em before. Some places might provide more colourful ones, but generally it's the white cane with the black handle, with a red bit at the end and a red or white tip (usually a ball) on the end.
This is the cane I use. (Sorry for the bad picture, I'm on the bus lmao)
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There are different cane tips you can get, I usually get the big ball cause it's most helpful for me. But there are smaller ones, and also kinda hook shaped ones that are apparently good for bushwalks!
The silvery bits on my cane are where it folds up, mine folds into four parts, but I think I had a cane before that folded into five. They're held together by a stretchy rope, the one you see at the top. There are telescopic ones too, but I can't tell you much about those cause I've never used one. My one is made of aluminium, I believe, but there are also some made of graphite that are apparently lighter. I'm thinking of maybe getting one of those cause I do so much walking.
Also a note - you want the cane to come up to your character's armpit.
Most people i know only really have the one cane. They can be provided in some other colours, like I said, but usually people havr white ones. I've seen someone with a blue one, a fluro pink one, and when I was on a Guide Dogs camp in year eight or something I saw someone with a rainbow cane. I thought it was super cool. I want to get a coloured one, but I'm not sure if it's as recognisable 😅
Oh yes, there's also a similar type of cane called an ID cane. They're generally thinner and don't have a ball on the end, because you don't roll it along the ground. An ID cane is tapped against the ground, and is used to let others know that you have a vision impairment. Hence the name "ID cane"
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dragoneyes618 · 3 years
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Ben didn't have official days off, but every so often he (and his mother) made himself ignore any pileups of work that may have been looming and relax. King of Auradon he may be, but he was also a teenage boy, and everyone needed some down time once in a while.
So now he was sitting in an armchair in one of the small, private sitting rooms that Belle referred to as her "hideaways." It was a small room, with comfortable chairs, beautiful curtains, and hanging lamps. And, of course, piles of books.
His mother was in her own chair across from him, reading. As he was himself. As even his father was, sitting near the door.
His mother was right, Ben mused. There was nothing quite like a good book.
Someone coughed.
Ben looked up.
A woman was standing by the doorway.
That in itself wasn't so unusual. There were many people who lived and worked in Beast Castle, after all, although this room was off-limits. But it wouldn't be the first time someone had snuck in, usually to read one of the books. Belle never punished anyone who did that-in fact, she always gave the perpetrator as many books as he or she wanted.
Ben vaguely recognized the woman as one of the new servants. He didn't know her name, though. He felt bad about that. He always did his best to know the names of all the workers in the castle. Their literal job was looking after his family; the least he could do in return was call them by their names. This woman, however, tended to avoid people, and so he hadn't learned her name yet.
She was elderly, with a lined face and hair that was almost completely white, with just a single strand of black running through it, tied up in a bun. She looked as though she could use a cane, although she wasn't leaning on one at the moment. She wore an old-fashioned dress, all black but with white lace.
Also, she was holding a pistol in her right hand. That was definitely unusual.
It too looked old-fashioned-the kind of pistol that had exactly six bullets, that you needed to manually reload and put in gunpowder each time you used that, that wouldn't work if it got wet, and that had an even chance of exploding when you fired.
Still, a gun was a gun. And she would only need three bullets to kill all of them, if she was so inclined.
"You-" the Beast sputtered. "How-Guards!"
Nothing happened.
"I'm afraid your guards are somewhat indisposed," the woman said, training her gun on the Beast. "They won't be coming to help you anytime soon."
"You didn't..." Belle whispered. Ben swallowed nervously; but they would have heard gunshots, right?
"Oh, they're all right," the woman said. "They're just a bit...tied up at the moment." She laughed. "I didn't do it myself, of course; my family still does have allies, you know. Even now."
"What do you want?" Ben asked.
Both his parents moved toward him, as though to shield him; but he was king. Surely dealing with dangerous assassins was his job?
The woman focused on him. Her face was lined not just with age, Ben realized, but with grief and stress. Her black eyes seemed to scorch into him.
"The boy king," she said musingly. "The one who overturned a generation of wrongs-or tried to, at least. Too late for most. But, as some say, better late than never." She sounded sarcastic.
"No one pays attention to the servants, do they?" she mused. "No one wondered who I was, or where I had come from. It was ridiculously easy getting a job here. I suppose you've gotten complacent, with all the villains on the Isle?" she sneered.
She looked at Ben. "What do I want? I want to have my say."
"Then-speak," Belle said. The longer this strange woman kept talking, the more time there would be for someone to find them, or discover the guards.
The intruder nodded at the Queen Mother. "My name is Madeline. Madeline de Vil. But you probably know me as Malevola."
Malevola de Vil.
"So you have heard of me," Malevola said with a wicked smile. "What do they say about me? That I was one of the greatest fashion designers of the last century? That I was the best owner of the House of De Vil in three generations? That I was a respected member of society? That I would do anything for my family?"
Her face darkened. "Or do they say that I, like all those bearing the de Vil name, are cursed? That I care more for fur than my family? That I am frightening, mad, evil, just like my daughter?"
Ben found his voice. "Cruella de Vil."
Malevola glared at him. "Don't call her that."
"But-that's her name."
"No, it is not," Malevola said, quietly, menacingly. The hand holding the pistol remained steady. "Do you really think that I would give my own daughter a name like Cruella?" She shook her head in disgust. "No. What runs in the de Vil family, particularly with the females, is that people-and by people I mean the general public, people who don't even know us-they give us nicknames.
"Not friendly, endearing nicknames. Perhaps nicknames isn't the right word. I don't know. I was ten when people started calling me Malevola. Ella was twelve when they called her Cruella. My own mother, her name was Dinitia, but do you know what people called her?" Malevola sneered, but in that sneer was anger and hurt at lifetimes-not just her, but many members of her own family-of mockingly being called the wrong name. Perhaps parody was the word she was looking for. Or travesty. "They called her Dementia. You think my daughter is cruel? At least she calls others by their proper names."
"They fear us, you see," Malevola went on. "And they scorn us. So they either name us to fit their beliefs about us, or they mock us, so that they can pretend we don't frighten them."
"I'm sorry," Belle started.
Malevola whirled on her. "You think I have finished?! I have barely even started!"
Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she continued. "You have done me, and many people, a great wrong." She sounded like she was trying to be formal, like she'd rehearsed this in her mind.
"What have we done?" the Beast asked.
And just like that, her composure was gone.
"What have you done?" she hissed, her knuckles white, her eyes wide. "What have you done? You take my children from me, and you ask what you have done?"
She laughed bitterly. "The enchantress who cursed you was right. You are a beast inside and out."
The Beast paled; that was his worst fear.
"First, you took my Ella," Malevola went on. "You took her, and you locked her up, and you said she was a danger and a menace to society and that we should be glad you were taking her away.                                                                          "For stealing dogs." Her voice shook. "Even young Anita said that the punishment didn't fit the crime. But no, you take her, you do not help her, and you send her away to an island full of murderers."
"She's a villain," the Beast tried to reason.
That was the wrong thing to say.
"She is my daughter!" Malevola screamed.
Ben suddenly understood why people feared the de Vil family. Malevola truly looked like her family's surname.
"And my son, Cecil, came to you," Malevola continued. Her voice was dangerously calm now. "And he begged you, lowering himself, a bearer of the de Vil name, for you. He asked you to help her, to be kind to her, to do something else-anything else-but you refused.                                                                    "Tell me, Beast, what is the line between villainy and insanity?"
The Beast did not answer.
"And with no other option left," Malevola continued, "my Cecil volunteered to go to your cursed Isle, to be with Ella, to help her, because he could not leave his sister alone. You agreed to that. And you sent both of my children to the Isle."
"Did you plan," Malevola wondered, "for there to be no communication from the Isle at all? Did you want us all to forget about them, to pretend the villains never existed?      
"I had no letters. My own were returned, marked Return to Sender. There were no phone calls. Nothing. The de Vil family has much influence, but I could do nothing.      
"Do you know what it is like, not to know if your own children are alive or dead? I would not wish that on my worst enemy."
She locked eyes with the Beast. "Twenty years I have waited for word of my children. For twenty years I have not known if they live, or if they were killed within days of arriving on the Isle. And now your son brings my grandson over..."
She sighed. "He looks like Ella. Cecil, too. He has the de Vil hair. All the de Vils, we look like each other. It is yet another reason people find us strange. But my grandson, he is frightened of me. We never knew each other. You took that from me, too. He fears I am too much like Ella, for he tells me that Ella has deteriorated..."
She could have been a hundred years old.
The Beast stepped forward. "If you are here to punish me, then-do so." Belle gasped, but he continued. "Do not make my wife and son pay for my crimes."
"You are brave," Malevola conceded. She looked almost surprised. "But no."
She looked at Ben. "I do thank you, you know. You brought my grandson off the Isle, and he brought me news of my family."
She looked back at the Beast, meeting his eyes directly. She did not speak for a long moment.
"You misunderstand me," Malevola–Madeline–said finally. "I am not here to kill you. I am here only to cause you the same pain you have caused me."
Moving swiftly, she turned, pointed the gun straight at Ben, and fired.
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