These designs loosely draw inspiration from Japanese tradition, Yakudoshi (厄年), which is said that certain years are believed to be 'unlucky' or 'calamitous' for individuals. For men, the ages are 25, 42, and 61. For women, they ages are 19, 33, and 37. Whilst in their Yakudoshi, they are oft advised to be extra cautious over misfortune or potential illnesses.
I chose "yakudoshi", not because these designs represent unlucky or misfortune, but rather it was what sparked my concept and the lore I built behind these creatures.
In a realm not unlike our own dwell slumbering beasts, known through the lore of elder days and the songs of forgotten tongues. Many deem them mere fable and old wives’ fancy, for they know not the truth their forebears once spoke.
Their roars split the heavens, and their steps shattered the earth, leaving the soil cracked and trembling. With a beat of their wings, gales rose and tempests raged. Each creature bore powers vast enough to lay waste to the world beneath.
These calamitous creatures were not born of nightmare nor terror, but are wardens and champions of humankind. As wars against ancient evils were waged and vile curses sundered, they were granted an endless sleep thereafter. Changeless and immortal they remain until such time they are summoned once more.
Thus are we, the children of men, taught to give reverence to the world and the wilds. We must uphold the balance 'twixt opposing forces, lest we rouse the ire of the gods who once preserved our realm.
Yet should the hour come when their awakening is called, let not their dread forms sow fear within thee—for they are the calamitous guardians which absorb the foul, the vile, and the corrupted.
The designs in this series shall be crafted with soft-dyed enamel and colored screen printing, bearing no metallic outlines. A flat black finish will replace traditional platings. To aid in understanding, a 3D rendering has been provided. Yet know it is but a digital likeness; the final pieces may differ in color, print, and texture when made real.
Disaster, once one among many, now the last sentinel of the old wars. When the skies grow black and the winds fall silent, it is said that Disaster returns-not to bring ruin, but to bear witness to what ruin has left behind. It circles high above the scarred earth, silent and unwavering - watching, recording, and remembering.
Word carries that Death still walks among us—the only one who does not sleep. To flee from it is a futile endeavor, though it bears no malice. To fear it is natural, yet know this: when the hour comes, Death shall gather you with the softest of embraces.
With terrible swiftness the Doldrum move, often no more than a blur to mortal eyes. It lingers not, for Malevolence is restless. Rumor told of its power to vanish and reappear at will, yet others speak of its might: a single bound enough to carry it across vast lands.
Whispers speak of a great being adrift among the clouds, beyond the grasp of mortal eyes. Yet once in a blue moon, a fleeting glimpse may be won. Though shaped like one of the deep, it dwells in the endless skies. Its mournful song stirs the sleeping winds and carries a sorrow that quiets even the most restless of souls.
Perhaps the rarest of them all, “Despair” it was named -a giant owl with but a single eye, said to serve as sentry to the others. It was told that should one cross paths with this feathered omen, doom would soon follow, for it appears only when the end draws near. Yet perhaps it is but gossip, for none have lived to confirm the tale.
Long before memory, it was known that a shadow stirs at the edge of all things - Disease, the silent herald of the world’s turning. It bears no anger, only the sacred task of undoing. Where it passes, stone crumbles, roots rot, and breath falters, yet from the ruin, new life stirs. It is not a curse, but the old law: all must rise, fall, and rise again.
In the shallow waters where light bends and deceives, Darkness drifts unseen. An enemy it is not, but a silent shield against those who wear the face of light. Where shimmering currents lure and false brightness blinds, Darkness lays its veil for not all that shines brings grace, nor all that hides brings harm.
In old tales, none are spoken of with greater reverence than Decimation, who moves along the crumbling edges of the world. Small in form yet vast in power, it slips unseen through fields and forests. It brings no ruin for cruelty’s sake, but clears the withered and broken to make way for what must come. To cross its path is no curse, but a sign: change has come, and the old must fall so the new may rise.
Once a creature of the ordinary, Desolation rose beyond its kind. From its solemn figure - a lone wolf - the term was born. Mourn not its solitude for it serves a purpose: it gathers the lost and forgotten, carrying them beyond suffering. Thus Desolation became known as the guardian between realms where life must rest before it can begin anew.
This is a mock design and the pin on the card is not accurate to size.
How curious, indeed. The ink is faded, the symbols fractured—but something ancient hums beneath the surface. We’ve begun the work, though the language resists us like breath through stone.
Return in time, and perhaps we’ll have shaped meaning from the ruin. The Calamities rarely speak plainly—but they always speak true.
When mourning drapes the world in silence, Dirge awakens, moving unseen through the twilight, singing the final songs of those who passed. Its voice stills restless hearts and eases those who grieve. To the lost souls adrift ‘twixt the worlds, Dirge's song, a beacon, guides gently to the realms beyond. In its song, mourning finds rest - and in its passage, souls are led to rest.
Dirge will have his own tier. Please keep this in mind when you are adding or adjusting your pledge! _____
Hark! We've found yet another piece of forgotten lore - this one writes of .. a Keeper. Perhaps with some extra time, we'll be able to decipher this ancient text:
They say sleep is a gentle veil—but in its folds, Dream waits. Neither nightmare nor savior, it lingers where forgotten fears still breathe. Silent and watchful, it sorts dream from delusion. To the restless, it offers only truth. And should darker forces creep in, it bares its teeth—for not all dreams are meant to be kept, and not all nightmares seek to harm.
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I must have dozed off at some point... When I awoke, another piece of ancient text was set above the Keeper's. I'm unsure who must have placed it here, but alas, I'm more curious to see what this piece might say.
In the quiet before revelation, when the veil between worlds thins, he arrives. They call him the silent courier, born not of flesh, but of omen and dusk. With wings like fallen leaves and weeping eyes, he speaks no words, yet carries truths no voice could bear. His messages come in riddles, memories, or dreams—meant only for those willing to listen.
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During my travels, as I was organizing my paperwork, I happened upon parchment with an unfamiliar name. I had thought I discovered most, if not all of the Calamity already, but it seems like there's more to be to unravel.
Its name is more than legend. It is invocation. A ward against submission. A whisper of rebellion when the weight of tradition grows too heavy. Those who speak its name aloud in unjust halls may find the courage to stand. Those who etch its sigils into hidden corners might find cracks forming in once-unbreakable walls.
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While I was cleaning up my office, I realized there was a parchment wedged between the crevices of the wooden floor panels. It's a mystery how these continue to appear before me, when many of the previous data were accumulated over hundreds of years...
Dissonance dwells where no light touches-behind crumbling stone, between roots, and within forgotten halls where silence lingers. A sentry born of stillness and echo: he guards not with blade, but through the sense of every shift in sound. He protects the unseen and the unheard-the breath before a cry, the step before danger, the voice trembling with truth. When balance falters or secrets stir, it is he who hears and answers from the dark.
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This one must have slithered onto my desk as whilst I was resting. When I awoke, his information was already translated, perhaps with the help of Dirge as his file was opened and placed side by side. As far as we know, the Calamity worked independently, however, perhaps this is a sign that these two worked as partners -
Disciple of Dirge, Dredge coils through the fading light of dying souls, unseen and unspoken. He cuts not, but loosens binding threads; where sorrow festers and memory binds like thorns, he slips through the mind like mist through cracks, unweaving the burdens too heavy to carry beyond the veil. Regret, shame, fear—these he lifts, strand by strand, leaving only silence, only peace.
The unFestive Masks (沒喜慶面具) :: Not Here to Celebrate
For a thousand years and more, these creatures have slumber, and their deeds not forgotten; for we honor their valor with a festival unlike any other. Known in formal tongue as The End of the Great Calamitous Nightmare Festival, though spoken by common folk simply as The Calamity Festival, is held but once each turning of the sun.
The streets brim with endless stalls of wares and fare, while masked souls—bearing the visages of the calamitous—wander beneath dim and flickering lights. Yet this night is not one of wanton revelry, but of solemn tribute and remembrance, offered unto those ancient guardians who once shielded this realm from ruin.
Throughout the thoroughfares gather a great multitude of artists and craftsmen. The masks, worn by festival-goers, stand as one of the highest forms of reverence bestowed upon the Calamities. Each variation is crafted with great care, and no two are ever the same.
For no image was ever captured, nor any record preserved; thus, it falls to the hands of the artisans to shape the Calamities as they see in their dreams.
Shipping and Timeline (裝貨和時間軸) :: All Things Take Time
Please understand the following timeline is a rough estimate. With the current state of my country (USA), how long it'll take for merchandise to get through customs varies. I will maintain clear communication to you with regards to any updates with the project post completion.
Campaign Duration: May 27th-June 17th, 2025 Surveys: July 1st, 2025* Estimated Production Duration: ~2 months Estimated Delivery: ~August 2025
*Surveys/Production may be delayed until after July 8th as I will be in Los Angeles for Anime Expo. Come say hi in artist alley J19!
I, often, feel like I don't say it enough, but thank you. For those who have been around since the inception of Sugar Cubed Studios to the new fans and supporters who've joined for this campaign - I appreciate you! My brand, my art, my designs couldn't have happened if not for the endless support you've shown me throughout the years. There have been good and bad times, and Sugar Cubed Studios have persevered because of you. So, once again, thank you.
A separate thank you to the friends and family who have listened to me complain and go through art blocks, road blocks, brain rot, etc. I'm an endless complainer and critic of my own work, so to have heard words of encouragement and support means a ton. Thank you to the friends who've helped proofed the lore and made it sound as amazing as it does now!
