#idylls of the abyssal forest

[idyllsoftheabyssalforest]

Happy EO3 Anniversary!

We initially planned on revamping our character lineup, something that my wife @anoldwishbone had wanted to do for some time. However, given our busy schedules, we ended up going with a tarot motif for both Gutrune and Seyfried, eventually only having enough time for Gutrune.

pre-production (concept, sketch), production (lines), and post-production (color correction, frame) done by @anoldwishbone (super thank you for the carry!)

pre-production (planning, concept), production (colors) done by @martilyongabo

[martilyongabo]

EO3 (partial) lineup - November-December 2022

Peak MAbo is collaborating with your best friend for a(n admittedly unfair) final project (for web development!!!! an elective!!!), saying you would post it, forgetting about it for a year, posting it on Artstation and forgetting about it again.

As always, AC drew the lineart, and I colored. Designs were more of a collaborative effort between the two of us!

Probably should have shared this when the HD collection came out... anyway it's here now!

Some design ramblings under the cut :0! There's a lot i wanna share especially given that we recently did a soft rewrite that departed from the guild system entirely ^^" and EO3's cast was actually one of the first that we had, surprisingly!

Micah is quite clearly alt gladiator 3, but in an entirely different profession. instead of going into the labyrinth, he works in what i imagine would be an analogue to the forge in Tharsis (aka helping people make things busted af). It probably works best for his character, since he was always a gizmo freak even in his first iteration! geomagnetic (or submagnetic, ugh) gizmo is AC's idea!

Micah's brother, Eva, is a very loose spin on zodiac 3, but with a wayyyy lighter colour palette. Admittedly, i did steal a little bit of the spiritmaster's coat from bravely default, but AC managed to spin it back to resembling the original coat that the class had. Eva works as an astronomer, hence the little telescope he always has on him.

Next up we have Eva's protégé, Miri (who was imported from AC's stories)! Theoretically, Miri would be a second zodiac, and, after watching some EO3 speedruns, would probably be really strong in the earlygame when working with Eva in an actual playthrough. AC's design heavily borrows from Patho II's Grace, hence the coat + dress combo.

Following Miri in this lineup would be Noa, her admittedly very lazy but clingy sibling. I think it's apparently here that we didn't have much time to filter what a believable design would be in an EO setting, given that Noa's clothes were translated directly from our designs of them in school attire. It's actually funny how for we diverged from their original portrait (buccaneer 3) to the point that she is literally unrecognizable. Truly a pipeline from good sea boy to j-horror twist character.

Last in the OC section would be Masaru, who recently found work for the Senatus. Admittedly he does have another example of "incongruent time period" clothing (the jacket), though it's a lot more reworkable than Noa. We also made his design a lot less poofy and rugged compared to the original, and I mixed the base and alt color palettes as well to make him less, well, glaringly red. Probably one of the funnier things is that his clothing palette made him blend in more with the likes of Kujura, but given that they work for the same place, it'll probably work out fine.

Now we go onto NPCs, and who better to start than with Flowdia! Admittedly, her art was one of the last ones that we did, hence why her design looks relatively plain (sorry lola). Probably one of the things I would like to add would be more ornate patterns, perhaps of butterflies to tie her closer to Gutrune!

Before we get to the Princess, we gotta get through her bodyguard first! >:0 I honestly don't like Kujura because I answered honestly in his first question, and he said that I was prideful, but AC likes him so he looks really good here. He isn't as rendered here as he is in his portrait, since he was also one of the last characters we made, and I didn't really get to notice that he doesn't have as much value contrast in his clothing as Masaru does. Probably something to think about next time I color him >:0

Next up we have Gutrune!! We decided to make her look more jellyfish-like, while still keeping it a bit uncanny and unsettling. We tried to give her a more traditionally Filipiniana look (mostly on the Maria Clara gown), but we haven't yet made a poncho design that mixes well with butterfly sleeves without looking cluttered. As such, she has a more nightdress-y look here. AC drew in a few tentacles, and I couldn't help but make them look squishy.

Last but not least is Olympia! We wanted to align her appearance more with her background, hence her altered design :0 Having rips of the artbook easily accesible online also helped us flesh out her hair in particular, since we didn't want to just transplant Gutrune's hairstyle onto her.

And that's all of them!!! I'm honestly hoping to draw more EO characters, though Seyfried's design scares me (honestly the reason why I couldn't make a Reversed Emperor comic).

Currently, I've made a lot of progress on the EO4 game, and I'm excited to draw up the three N-turned-PCs + Xiuan >:'0!!! I don't think I can ever get as cool as Morika tho. If you've come this far and aren't into EO, please check out their blog!! Their art is stunning and has come a really long way :")

[ninasmovingcastle]

Can I request Venti reuniting with s/o he hasn’t seen in years?

your wish is my command anon !!

forevermore - venti

venti x gender neutral!god!reader

word count: 526

in which you reunite with your beloved after being assumed dead following the archon war

content warnings: alcohol

↳ god!reader disappeared after the archon war and hasn't been heard from since.

↳ as a last resort during a battle in the war, you used up most of your divine energy to protect yourself, taking on the form of a mortal.

no matter how much time had passed, barbatos could not go one day without thinking of you. he refused to move on and simply assume you were dead.

he knew he had responsibilities to attend to in his city, but he would have traveled all across the universe to rediscover any trace of you.

and you felt exactly the same, though you were no longer strong enough to reach every corner of teyvat. you devoted your mortal-like life to roaming far and wide. anything to reach him again.

your immortal spirit confined to a commoner's body wandered every street of teyvat for centuries, waiting to be reunited with your dear barbatos. your travels had taken you from the icy wastelands of snezhnaya to the thriving forests of sumeru; to the depths of enkanomiya and the furthest edges of the abyss.

no number of fruitless adventures would interrupt your motivation, however. you were always completely devoted to finding barbatos, to let him know you never gave up on him.

your journeys led you to mondstadt, the idyllic city of freedom. throughout teyvat, the region was known as one of romance and bliss. what better place to find your lover than here?

the locals treated you like any other tourist. you were invited to a tavern by a welcoming monstadter, which you did not decline. you sat around a small table outside the bar while your newfound acquaintance ordered for you.

a thousand years' worth of memories flashed through your mind as you heard it, barbatos' tune once again. it must be a dream, or perhaps your drink was a little too strong. behind you was a young-looking bard, serenading tavern patrons.

locking eyes with the one you instinctively knew was yours was a feeling too intense, even for the immortal. he realized it was you, too, immediately setting down his lyre to approach you and pull you away from the table.

"i knew you were alive," he says, his eyes dancing with joy. "call me venti."

you spend the night with him exploring mondstadt, taking shelter beneath a great tree he claims is a historic landmark.

"what's so special about this tree?" you ask. not that you particularly care about the tree, but you're simply so infatuated with your lover that you'd ask an eternity of stupid questions just to hear his voice.

"oh, it's a long story," he laughs, leaning against the trunk.

he reaches for your hand and holds it gently. to feel his skin on yours, to feel his pulse and his warmth, it tethers you to him.

"we have time," you smile, resting your head on his shoulder, exactly as you did eons ago.

[abyssmalice]

would You take an idyllic little walk in a forest of silver trees, peaceful rivers, eerie fog, singing voices in the distance, phantoms of the dead in the corner of your eye and the perpetual darkness of the Abyss - alongside a gentle maiden who will definitely not kill you if you give her cause to think you're too weak to live? 👉👈

[rockislandadultreads]

Horror Novella Recommendations

Spin a Black Yarn by Josh Malerman

Josh Malerman is a master weaver of stories - and in this spine-chilling collection he spins five twisted tales from the shadows of the human soul:

A sister insists to her little brother that "Half the House Is Haunted" by a strange presence. But is it the house that's haunted--or their childhoods?

In "Argyle," a dying man confesses to homicides he never committed, and he reveals long-kept secrets far more sinister than murder.

A tourist takes the ultimate trip to outer space in "The Jupiter Drop," but the real journey is into his own dark past.

In "Doug and Judy Buy the House Washer(TM)," a trendy married couple buys the latest home gadget only to find themselves trapped by their possessions, their history . . . and each other.

And in "Egorov," a wealthy old cretin murders a young man, not knowing the victim was a triplet. The two surviving brothers stage a savage faux-haunting--playing the ghost of their slain brother--with the aim of driving the old murderer mad.

The Crane Husband by Kelly Barnhill

“Mothers fly away like migrating birds. This is why farmers have daughters.”

A fifteen-year-old teenager is the backbone of her small Midwestern family, budgeting the household finances and raising her younger brother while her mom, a talented artist, weaves beautiful tapestries. For six years, it’s been just the three of them—her mom has brought home guests at times, but none have ever stayed.

Yet when her mom brings home a six-foot tall crane with a menacing air, the girl is powerless to prevent her mom letting the intruder into her heart, and her children’s lives. Utterly enchanted and numb to his sharp edges, her mom abandons the world around her to weave the masterpiece the crane demands.

In this stunning contemporary retelling of “The Crane Wife” by the Newbery Medal-winning author of The Girl Who Drank the Moon, one fiercely pragmatic teen forced to grow up faster than was fair will do whatever it takes to protect her family—and change the story.

Wild Spaces by S.L. Coney

An eleven-year-old boy lives an idyllic childhood exploring the remote coastal plains and wetlands of South Carolina alongside his parents and his dog Teach. But when the boy’s eerie and estranged grandfather shows up one day with no warning, cracks begin to form as hidden secrets resurface that his parents refuse to explain.

The longer his grandfather outstays his welcome and the greater the tension between the adults grows, the more the boy feels something within him changing —physically—into something his grandfather welcomes and his mother fears. Something abyssal. Something monstrous.

The Salt Grows Heavy by Cassandra Khaw

You may think you know how the fairytale goes: a mermaid comes to shore and weds the prince. But what the fables forget is that mermaids have teeth. And now, her daughters have devoured the kingdom and burned it to ashes.

On the run, the mermaid is joined by a mysterious plague doctor with a darkness of their own. Deep in the eerie, snow-crusted forest, the pair stumble upon a village of ageless children who thirst for blood, and the three 'saints' who control them.

The mermaid and her doctor must embrace the cruellest parts of their true nature if they hope to survive.

[dftsrp]

PREMISE PREVIEW

Welcome to the charming town of Stonewood Hollow, nestled in the heart of eastern Kentucky's Appalachian region. This idyllic town is renowned for its abundance of natural caves, drawing adventurers, geologists, and explorers from far and wide. With its breathtaking landscapes, rich mining history, and mysterious subterranean wonders, Stonewood Hollow is a captivating destination that promises both tranquility and excitement to all who visit.

While the town may seem like an alluring retreat for adventurous souls during the warmer months, its inhabitants are well acquainted with the unsettling truths that dwell within the surrounding forest and subterranean labyrinth.

In Stonewood Hollow, the whispered secrets carried by the wind serve as a chilling reminder to tread cautiously. Residents understand the unspoken rule: you never venture into the depths in search of what lurks there. If you catch a glimpse of something uncanny, you convince yourself it was a trick of the eye. Should eerie sounds echo through the trees, you promptly deny their existence. Prolonged gazes into the shadows are discouraged, and opening your door to nocturnal disturbances is a grave mistake.

Yet, even more disconcerting than the known terrors of the ancient woods are the caves that sprawl beneath the surface. Vast and unexplored, these subterranean realms stretch far beyond the Appalachians, threading their way throughout the Midwest and beyond. Within their depths, where dampness permeates the air and rushing water echoes, fear takes on new forms. Beware the spectral glimmers in the distance, and under no circumstances succumb to the allure of the haunting screams that beckon you into the abyss.

Welcome to Stonewood Hollow, where the town's secrets are as dark and cavernous as the very depths that surround it.

[lullabyoftheleaves1993]

The story of plageus e. Moonius

In the moonlit depths of an enigmatic city, where shadows danced on cobblestone streets, Dr. Plageus E. Moonius roamed, haunted by a dark and abusive past. His path, veiled in mystery, revealed fragments of a shattered soul.

Plageus, born into privilege, was once a child of innocent wonder. Yet, destiny's cruel hand soon intervened, casting him into a nightmarish abyss. The tragic tale began with the harrowing murder of his beloved parents, their lives extinguished in a wave of unspeakable violence.

The echoes of that fateful night reverberated within Plageus' tortured mind. Night after night, he was plagued by haunting memories, the torment of witnessing his parents' demise. The specters of their presence lingered, their voices whispering in the depths of his fractured psyche.

Childhood innocence shattered in the wake of a grotesque tragedy that would forever shape his existence.

In the fading twilight of an idyllic home, hidden beneath a canopy of towering trees, Plageus played innocently with his toys. His laughter, like the delicate flutter of a butterfly's wings, filled the air as his parents moved with graceful steps through the rooms.

But fate, like a cruel puppeteer, reveled in orchestrating the macabre. One fateful evening, the symphony of love turned into a symphony of horror. Through the ajar door, young Plageus bore witness to an unthinkable act that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

In a fit of rage, his mother, consumed by demons known only to her, plunged a gleaming knife into his father's chest. Blood, a scarlet river, cascaded from the wound, staining the innocence of their home. The walls echoed with anguished screams that tore through Plageus' tender soul.

Before the horror could fully consume him, another abrupt act of violence jolted the scene. Plageus' older brother, driven to madness by the unfolding tragedy, snatched a firearm and pointed it towards their mother's defenseless form. A single gunshot rang out, severing the fragile thread connecting mother and son.

As life ebbed away, Plageus' brother, a tortured soul drowning in his own guilt, grabbed Plageus and ran to the woods that surrounded their home.

In the deafening silence that followed Plageus, his innocence shattered and his heart a vessel of grief, found himself standing amidst the carnage of his young mind, ill-equipped to comprehend the horrors that had unfolded before his eyes, instinctively led him into the depths of the surrounding woods, seeking solace in the embrace of nature's sanctuary.

Every step he took through the dense undergrowth was a step away from the horrors he had witnessed. The trees, stoic guardians of forgotten secrets, whispered ancient lullabies as they offered shelter to the traumatized child. Guided by a mix of survival instincts and an unknowing yearning for a fresh start, Plageus ventured further into the heart of the woods.

Through tears and the haze of grief, he stumbled upon a secluded refuge—a small cottage hidden amidst the emerald foliage. A hermit, wise in the ways of nature, took him in and became his guardian. Under the tutelage of this enigmatic figure, Plageus learned to navigate the intricacies of life's delicate balance and the healing power of the natural world.

Years would pass, and the scars of that haunting night would forever mark Plageus' soul. But through the solace of the woods, he discovered the strength to rebuild himself, to forge a new path defined by compassion and understanding. The shadows of his past would always linger, a constant reminder of the pain endured, but they would not define him.

In the forest's embrace, Plageus found the resilience to overcome unimaginable loss, transforming his tragic past into a catalyst for growth. And though the specter of that night would forever accompany him, he vowed to honor the memory of those he had lost by dedicating his life to healing the wounds of others and bringing light to the darkest corners of humanity's collective suffering.

[fatefulfaerie]

“Who are you?”

Febuwhump prompt #12/28

Franchise: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Word Count: 746

For all the things Link didn’t know, he at the very least knew that he was dreaming, that the gauzy, misty place he walked was not reality, and that this in no way resembled the forest he had fallen asleep in.

“Link,” a voice spoke.

He knew that voice immediately as the angelic tones he heard in the Shrine of Resurrection, the idyllic cadence he heard from atop the tall tower erupted from the ground. Link turned around himself only to see that from every angle, there was no source of the sound.

His brow furrowed in confusion, a confusion he was starting to get tired of, a confusion that seemed to be his natural state.

“Hello?” He asked the abyss. “Who are you?”

The voice giggled playfully.

“You know who I am.”

“No, I…I don’t,” he said, insisted with stinging eyes. “I don’t remember anything, I…I feel so lost. Just tell me who you are. Please.”

“You’re going to be just fine.”

“What?” Link asked.

“Your path seems to mirror your father’s.”

Link turned around quickly, the voice coming coming a different direction completely and yet he didn’t seem to catch the source quick enough.

“It does?” Link trying to communicate with the voice. But, for some reason, it kept changing the subject.

“Please, just tell me…what is wrong with me?”

“I…I don’t know,” Link said in reply. 

“Despite our best efforts…I left them…all to die.”

The voice was getting quicker, changing directions so frequently that Link could barely keep up with where they were coming from.

“Hero of Hyrule…the calamity…it’s here…”

“Tomorrow is my seventeenth birthday.”

“There’s a fine line between courage and recklessness.”

“Stop following me!”

“Can you hear it yet?…hero…”

“I’m doing everything I can!” Link heard as he awoke with a startle, panting heavy breaths as he realized he was sitting up against the bark of a tree. A campfire crackled before him and across from him on the other side of it was the old man he had met earlier that day. Staring at him with a piercing gaze, Link could help but be a bit scared of how this man was watching him sleep.

“Bad dream?” The old man asked.

“You could say that.” Link said as he sat up properly. “Are you here to check on my progress? Getting your orbs or whatever they are.”

The old man let out a great laugh.

“Not quite,” he said. “I’m here check up on you. You were hearing the voice again, weren’t you?”

“You think I’m crazy.”

“I didn’t say that.”

But Link dove his head into his hands with an exasperated sigh.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Link said. “Having everything you know about yourself, other people, the world…all of it always at the tip of your tongue. I drown in grief and I don’t know why. I feel love and I don’t know who my heart belongs to. I have this reckless courage and I don’t know what to do with it. I’m an absolute mess.”

The old man smiled.

“Why don’t we focus on your dream?” The old man asked. “The voice. Maybe it will help clarify some things.”

Link lifted his head to gaze instead at the flames within the campfire, they way they eternally rose into chaotic embers.

“I almost saw her at the end,” Link said with a touch of uncertainty. “I think…I think she has green eyes and…blonde hair…”

King Rhoam was unsure at first at Zelda’s decision to not just let Link die and allow a new hero to be reborn to rescue her from Calamity Ganon. Yet, a hundred years is a long time, and it seemed becoming a spirit was what the King needed to truly understand his daughter. 

Link and Zelda were in love with each other and, in order to make it through a century-long fight against Ganon, Zelda needed the possibility that her love would return to her.

And, now that Link at first remembered no one else but Zelda, King Rhoam could now see that the cogs were finally in motion for Hyrule’s victory.

“Zelda,” the old man said. “You kept saying that name while you slept.”

Link looked up at the old man immediately.

“I think you remember more than you realize,” the old man continued before chuckling. “And you’ll find that being led by such a legend is no fool’s errand.”

[the-dreamer-poet]

vi | viii | ii—

she wants-- he want-- she w-- he-- I want to crush the thorned vines ensnaring my imperfect flesh of a heart further down the abyss of despondent dreams

(want to cry in the horror of the morrow breaking into the hailing stonefires prophecied two millenia ago, earthen soil molding to a firebright quake of fallen stars and ashen men

(barely the beginning of a godly wrath on the sinful world; we are the world)

i want to scream rainfire to the deserts, spit poisoned flood to the forests of my future --i cannot be the person you wish me to be, cannot be the song you play in the softest summer, the world you write in the dreamwake.

i am nothing but the butterfly across the earth in the hurricane's wind when you whistle.  nothing but the whispers of a girl who seeks neither future nor present nor past.  i am but the absence of time.

an idyllic nightmare

@unjadedwords ​

source (img)

[idyllsoftheabyssalforest]

Celetere Clinic Overview

The next in the timeline would be EO4's Celetere, formed in Tharsis! Admittedly, I don't really feel like writing their bios and attacking their game images just yet, since this is the story that I'm working on currently. Instead, please enjoy this little uhh... decompression? post-mortem? self-debriefing? it's under the cut as usual since I hate to be a bother, though I do warn that it's very rambley and probably doesn't make sense. <:') Hope it's entertaining though!

While EO4 is the first EO game I ever completed (~first week of November), I think I'm still trying to make sense of it and the plot divergences that I wanted to implement since I kind of rushed through it. Probably not the feeling I'd wanna have when finishing succeeding EOs <:")

It was also probably because EO4 is the game whose story I was most unfamiliar with. I don't know what was up with 15-year old Marty (since a lot of these characters have existed from then), but for some reason the conflict of EO4 didn't click with him. Either that or he was so enraptured with EO1-3's plot twists and then EO5's character creator that EO4 kinda fell by the wayside. Bubu Marty.

(as an aside, I'm glad that I'm old enough to be able to distinguish the nuances in both the characters and the story <:"))

One of the things that made me a bit sad was the lack of documentation too on EO4's actual written text. I did manage to find some decompiled text, but it didn't really have later game events in Maze 5 (particularly the "town square" events that seem to change if you have KG or WF in your party, as well as similar changes in Maze 5 proper). It's a little bit of a shame since I do really like WF and KG, and I adored the event where the Sentinel defended the Imperial soldier from the Vessels' anger.

A part of me wants to bring up WW too, though I fear that I might spoil something if I talk too much. But something funny that happened to my wife and I (I was sharing screenshots and short videos to her since we live apart) was that we had a whole debriefing session after the fight with him. A dialogue choice has never made me wish so hard that I could go back and change it to something else (referring to "extend hand" choice).

but yeah! even though I rushed through the lategame, there were still a lot of serendipitous moments that I hope that I will be able to illustrate as time goes on :0. thank you for listening (or reading rather) my ramble, and hope that the weather is fair to you today.

[martilyongabo]

some WW studies, i think i ended up having too much fun (12.15-12.16.2023)

[fruithoods]

geraskier but it’s hades and persephone (aka a wip i’ve had in my drafts for forever that i doubt i’ll ever finish so.... here)

when he looked back on it, he knew it was his fault. his mother had told him not to go out of the view of her nymph-servants, so what had he done? gone out of the view of her nymph-servants. because of course he had.

“you must be careful, my love,” his mother would say, her soft fingers combing through his hair. “the world is dangerous, and there are monsters out there.”

he knew that. every day since he was young, he had been warned of the monsters. of the creatures lurking in the forest with unnaturally long legs, eyes as dull as the swamp and yet still intelligent.

the thing was that julian longed for the world. he longed to travel and see outside the idyllic little bubble his mother had made for them. he wanted to get drunk and make bad decisions. he wanted to have friends, someone to talk to throughout the long days. most of all, he wanted to play his music.

18 years in isolation with only the company of his mother and her servants had given julian a lot of free time. he remembered when he was a child, when one of his mother’s servants had pressed a lute in his hands, and he had almost dropped it because it weighed more than him. she had quickly grabbed it and shushed him, telling him that something so precious must be treated with all the respect in the world. she had looked at him and said words he will never forget.

“my sweet summer child, you must learn to play this instrument. it will bring you to your destiny.”

and he had.

it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice. with nothing to do except read books which made him feel awfully lonely and swimming in streams which got boring, he fell into the abyss of music and he never regretted it for a moment.

his lyrics helped him say what he never could, longing for the world outside his little bubble, the melodies of his songs calming his mind and soothing his soul.

he spent many days strumming his lute, his most prized possession, and singing his songs, closing his eyes and imagining he was a real bard, standing on a table in a tavern and performing in front of real people.

it was on one of those days when he made either the greatest mistake or the most wonderful decision of his life.

a normal day, by any count. he woke up late as usual, ate his breakfast of berries and honey, and left his room to go to the garden.

he sat under the olive tree he had planted as a child and simply strummed his lute, trying out the notes.

he wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but he found himself singing along softly. the lyrics, seemingly writing themselves, were filled with his longing for something, anything, that would bring him life.

[teenwolfseason7]

Headlights

Lia She ran. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, dismissing the physical restraints of her body. Branches left numerous marks as she sprinted through the forest whilst using the position of a tiny handful of visible stars which laced the sky in an attempt to navigate. After what felt like ten minutes, she abruptly stopped and concentrated on the sounds around her, holding her breath and tuning out the noise of her own heartbeat thumping at an alarmingly high rate. It was silent, but it was a strange and dense silence, like the one you feel when you see a plane that's about to crash. No owls, no insect noises, nothing... A moment passed, making her believe it was just her imagination. She turned around again with the intention to keep going. Suddenly, an intensely loud and high pitched howl cut through the forest. Her eyes widened and before she knew it, she was franticly sprinting again as if her life depended on it. And it did. Her legs kept moving her forward until she heard the sound of water streaming nearby. Soon, a small creek appeared in deep valley before her. It would be an idyllic scene if you left out the part where she was being chased by an actual pack of werewolves. She quickly crouched to the forest floor and started descending carefully towards the water. There wasn't much to hold on to except for a few rocks which were widely scattered around and covered in slippery moss, causing her to slip and fall into the water. In an attempt to get rid of her scent, she hastily submerged herself in the river, washed away the dried up blood and covered herself in mud, before running further downstream. After what seemed about an hour, exhaustion started to occupy her body as the adrenaline subsided, forcing Lia to slow down to catch a breath. Keeping a steady pace as she walked further and further away from the horrors that had captivated her life for the past two months. It was only then that grasped the fact that she was actually free. She admired the moment, the sky above her and the soft and fresh scent of summer which lingered in her nostrils. The slight breeze giving her goosebumps, the soothing sound of the nature at night, even the damn mosquitos biting her, she cherished all of it.  And even if they'd capture her again, at least she had had this moment. One no one could ever take from her. With that in mind, she kept moving. The sun emitted a dim light as it started to journey towards the sky, coloring it with the most mesmerizing pink and orange shades Lia had seen in a long time. Her body was aching tremendously, forcing her to stop and catch a breath more often. She knew she  wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer. A small open space came into sight between the densely grown vegetation, marking the spot where a big old tree had once flourished. All that was left of it now was its stump with its deeply embedded roots. Unaware of its meaning, let alone its power, Lia sat on it in an attempt to let her sore legs rest for a moment. Her eyes scattered the sky, now reliant on the sun to navigate her way through this. She hadn't heard wolves howling for at least four hours, so she figured they might've lost her scent. They'd find her eventually, though. It was only a matter of time, which is exactly why she had to get to Beacon Hills as fast as possible. More specifically Eichen House. A few days ago she had heard the pack argue during a meeting. They were discussing the fact that one of them had been behaving very strangely the days prior and that he was starting to become a danger to the pack, but mostly to himself. They were contemplating on what to do with him. One jokingly suggested to drop him off at Eichen House to which Marshall, the alpha, replied that he'd rather let the guy die. Instead they decided on throwing him into one of their high security cells, until he got better. She quickly figured out that if he'd rather lose a packmember than go to Eichen House, that that could possibly be the safest place to go to. The woman in the cell next to her had explained that Eichen House was a mental hospital located in Beacon Hills, and that they were notorious for their "Closed Unit" in which they apparently housed all kinds of supernatural creatures, experimenting on them. Lia learned that the whole building had been designed to contain the supernatural, causing her to suspect that they wouldn't try to come and get her there if they wouldn't be able to get out again. Going there, although she certainly wasn't looking forward to it, was her best option right now. So when the nagging ache had subsided ever so slightly, Lia jumped off the log and picked up her journey once more. Finally, about half an hour later, city lights came in to view. She ran towards them until she reached the edge of the precipice, giving her the most gorgeous overview of the city. Her gaze lingered for quite sometime, before realizing she had to get rid of it first. Her hand reached towards the left back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a small vial. She contemplated her decision for a while, but she had made up her mind. With trembling fingers, she hastily screwed off the cap and poured out its contents beneath her before she could change her mind. She threw the vial itself as far away as she could and it felt... liberating to say the least. The only thing left to do now was to find a way to get into Eichen. She thought about it for a moment, before turning around and numbly following a small path which eventually led her to a relatively busy road. She had a plan for that too, but it was downright outrageous. Whilst keeping herself somewhat hidden, she observed the cars passing by. She estimated the speed limit to be 45 mph, however further down there seemed to be a few treacherous turns where they'd naturally have to slow down. Her tired legs brought her to one of those turns, even though her mind hadn't quite grasped the concept of what she was about to do just yet. With her heartbeat thumping loudly in her tightening throat, she waited behind a large rock until the soft sound of a car engine approached. Based on the noise and the distance, she started counting. In her head the mere seconds somehow felt like hours. The noise became gradually louder, and louder, causing an intense amount of trepidation to build in the pit of her stomach. "NOW!", she screamed out loud. Her breathing faltered once more as she jumped onto the road. The last thing she could see were the two painfully bright headlights before a colossal force threw her tiny frame into thin air and her consciousness was welcomed into a gaping abyss.

Part 1: https://teenwolfseason7.tumblr.com/post/613061122944319489/old-habits-die-hard Part 2: https://teenwolfseason7.tumblr.com/post/613061389444071424/deja-vu

[doomedandstoned]

Nicolas Perrault from Rage of Samedi Taps Deep Emotion in New Solo Effort

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By MelLie

NICOLAS "SCRIOS" PERRAULT -- some of you may have heard this name in the course of the German monster sludgers RAGE OF SAMEDI. German multi-instrumentalist, producer, live audio engineer, creative head in general, and bad-ass bassist of the aforementioned band. Often these artists are mostly referred to us in connection with the bands in which they play and we often know too little about their individual personalities and the solo projects they have to offer. Ashes on our heads!

After six years of walking the path of self-discovery and working on his authenticity as a solo artist, Nicolas has now announced the release of his first full-length album 'Shadows Cast At Dawn' (2020) on May 20th. That's why we should jump at this perfect opportunity to get a foretaste of the new album and take a closer look at Nick Perrault as "singer/songwriter" (a term that somehow doesn't entirely fit him).

With the song "Fires Within," Nick not only offers us a gloomy soul plough, but also a glance into his own soul. It is a gritty absolution punch, with abysmal soundscapes that deal with depression and anxiety. Emotional, melancholic, but in no way melodramatic -- a puristic and minimalistic-looking audio-active encounter with the emotionally frozen world and the breakout of those soul-damaging shackles. Like the Last Judgement runs Nick‘s throaty, heavy, powerful voice through the song and manifests itself like a memorial at the edge of the abyss into which the listener seems to look. This musical work is further underpinned by the impressive video-artwork, which was also created by Nick's own artistic hand.

I hope I have made you a little curious about the excursion into a border area of this heavy genre, which generally receives less attention here, and about the artistic work of Nicolas Perrault. Enjoy the ride through the abyss.

'Fires Within' music video

An Interview with Nicolas Perrault

By MelLie (Doomed & Stoned & Sunday's Heavy Tunes)

First of all, a warm "welcome", on behalf of Doomed & Stoned and our audience, Nick. It's only been a few months since you answered my questions as part of the gang of Rage Of Samedi! But this time, you are in the spotlight with your solo project! It‘s nice to have you here again!

It's an absolute honor to get to do this twice in a single year, so thanks for having me!

Nick, of course I have created my own impression of you in the process of preparing for this interview - at the latest now you still have the chance to escape! (laughs) How would you describe yourself? Who is this guy Nicolas Perrault?

I'm a multi-instrumentalist, tattooer, live audio engineer and producer and slightly sociophobic. So pretty much your average vegan straightedge dude who refuses to get a real job.

What made you decide to sell your soul to the "Devil Of Music"? In other words, how and when did you realize that you were burning with heart and soul to dedicate your life to music?

I've always played instruments, starting with the recorder, then organ and piano, bass, drums, guitar, bagpipes, and everything else. Way back when I joined my first band (a grunge/punk three-piece) and first picked up a bass, I realized I had a lot to say and music quickly became my outlet of choice. So about 18 years ago, but I didn't think of it in terms of a career yet, that only happened roughly six years ago, so I dropped out of university and started to work on my solo project.

You have left some very manifold and genre crossing footsteps on the pilgrimage through your personal music history: PTAH (doom), MOONSAIL (depressive pop-blues), and THRENODIA (black-metal) in former times are on my mind, current side projects are WILLE ZUR MACHT (avangarde) and you are the bass-riffer of Germany's blackened sludge doom monster RAGE OF SAMEDI! To what extent were these different musical influences and band experiences important for your progress as solo-artist?

I've spent a decade and a half working in bands, which would usually split up after a while, when the band became more serious and the others decided they'd rather pursue "real" jobs. So after a couple of those, I grew tired of waiting on the right people and just started working on my own. But every now and then I'd want to experiment with different genres, so I'd start a new project. The reason I'm now releasing under my actual name is that I didn't want to be stuck in one genre. I don't regret any of it, as they shaped who I am and the music I play now.

At the mention of your solo project, I could see the glint in your eyes. May 20th is the day! Let's light a sparkler for a minute! After three released EPs and six years of working as a solo artist, 'Shadows Cast At Dawn' will sail into the world as your first full-length album, which you even produced under the name of your own label Yew & Holly, right? What thoughts shoot spontaneously through your head right now?

Yup. I'm just incredibly excited to finally release this thing! It's been nearly six years and about eight different entire recordings, several changes to the track listing, heck- there are two tracks on the album that I only wrote this year! It's been a long, tedious journey and I'm glad for everything that happened along the way, because it made the final version of the album so much better!

Nick, let's turn the spotlight on the background information for your new album now. How would you describe your it to someone who has never heard your music before and which instruments play a major role?

A genre defying journey through post-modern life in a capitalist reality, focussing on depression and anxiety. Almost all of the songs are two sets of drums, a minute string section of violin and cello plus baritone guitar and vocals, that together create soundscapes so vast you might mistake them for an assassin's creed map.

Listening a little deeper into your work, one does not miss your natural fondness for philosophical thinking -- correct me if I am wrong with my assumption. Where do you get your inspirations from? And is there a message you want to convey to the listeners?

Well, I did study philosophy way back when. I tend to use naval imagery to paint a lyrical picture of depression and bipolar disorder, as a means of sharing the way I experience the world. It's likely not the most accessible thing you will ever hear, but it's a sincere expression of myself and that's really all I can offer.

"Fires Within," btw. Also one of my personal favorites of your album - is the amuse-gueule for our listeners What is the meaning behind this song and what moved you, writing the lyrics for this song?

"Fires" is all about setting boundaries and tearing down unhealthy relationships. If you have people in your life that hold you back instead of supporting you, ditch their ass! They're not worth the time and will poison any creative endeavor. Everyone knows at least a handful of these negative feckers and so did I. I spent years trying to help them get through their shit, but whenever I needed them they'd be more interested in getting drunk.

It's an unburdening from dead weight we carry, a cleansing, if you will. The chorus says "look not towards time, it brings only decay and destruction " and I think this is key to ridding yourself from negativity. Focus on your ultimate goal, that transcends trends and mood swings, that lives beyond time, and let it guide you. Don't stray too much from the path, or these negative influences will be right there waiting to cut you down.

"Fires Within"

Call upon the wind To wipe the surface clean He brings the rain and with it Absolution To carry with it the dust And bittersweet memories lost

Look not towards time To save your soul from fires It brings only decay and with it Destruction The fires burn from within Feast on the sand and it's running thin

Turn away from everything you hold dear To keep yourself safe from despair Cause all they bring is but loss All that remains is darkness when they are all gone Darkness that stretches like shadows cast from a new dawn

I would like to make a short swerve to the album cover. It is the wonderful artwork of Maryland based illustrator Luke Martin (Suburban Avenger Studios) who counts some famous musicians among his clients (Foo Fighters, Queens of the Stone Age, Arctic Monkeys, Red Hot Chili Pepper and others). How does the artwork relate to "Shadows Cast To Dawn"?

I've been a huge fan of Luke's work for years and a while ago he posted this picture to his Instagram. I was looking for something very specific to use as an album cover at the time. I needed it to evoke claustrophobia and a feeling of being safe inside whilst at the same time showing an outside, detached from the rest, just out of reach.

So imagine my jaw dropping as I saw this picture for the first time. It just struck me. So I wrote Luke, if he'd sell it. He had never sold a photograph before (plenty of awesome illustrations, though) so needless to say, I was very happy he did. He basically captured exactly what I had conceptualized -- that it's an actual photograph just makes it even better, as the concept is very much abstract but now has an actual physical representation.

The title "Shadows Cast At Dawn" was something that I had floating around in my head for ever. So when I began to work on the album that became the working title. Since I've worked on it for so long, that title has- in a way- effected everything I wrote, so it seemed to fit perfectly by the end.

Is there a special favourite place where you prefer to let your ideas mature? - a kind of soul-flyer place? I know you live in a small, rather idyllic place and not in a vibrant artists' metropolis! Whereby this way of living has advantages as well as disadvantages for an artist, right?

I love forests, oceans and mountains, so I'm pretty much alright with any surroundings, as long as I can escape civilization from time to time. Living out in the countryside allows me to focus, as you pretty much know where to find people, if you're looking for company but at the same time, you know where you are less likely to be found.

Sure, I need to travel a lot more to get anywhere and there aren't as many connections to be made face to face, but digitalization has granted us loners access to that aspect of life from the comfort of our homes, so I'd say it really depends on what you need to stay sane.

With the release of this album, you could now realize one of your dreams. Do we have another sparkler to light? What else do you have in the works? Are there any future plans that float in space? Or do you still carry around another big dream in your head?

I've already started recording for the next album, so fingers crossed that this time it won't take as long. Apart from that, I really want to tour the world, but circumstances aren't exactly ideal for that, at the moment. Apart from the music, I also tattoo and paint and hope to be doing more of that alongside music in the future. So if y'all wanna get some ink, hit me up!

Thanks a lot Nick, for giving us a deeper insight into your solo project and the things that move you! It's been very entertaining having this conversation with you here. We all will keep our eyes upon Nicolas "Scrios" Perrault in anticipation of your success!

Thank you very much, Mel, it's been my pleasure!

Leave Me To The Waves by Nicolas Perrault

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[safrona-shadowsun]

❛ I like to watch them. They fill me with joy. ❜ - Asharri Lakefire

Looking on the collection of children that chased each other under the boughs of the Jade Forest, it was sensible to understand that watching such an innocent expression of joy would create the same in another. Joy, peace, a feeling of serendipity was all observed in the Farstrider, taking the moment away from the  darknesses of the world to not take these pure moments for granted. Somewhere relaxing within the artistic beauty of the Arboretum were figures the Courier cared for deeply too, though she did not draw attention to them or herself. She and the red-haired Seer only exchanged knowing glances, casting their gazes to the pair of Nightborne and Sin’dorei girls building their own kites. In essence, it should have been a scene to delight Safrona too.

It did not delight the Courier however. She was restless. Apprehensive. Ready to go. Their delight, even at it’s most innocent was oblivious, and she was not, knowing how close they were to ground zero. How close to N’zoth’s Void corruption they all were. How quickly, subtly the voices could work to lead them all into complacency. Under the perfectly trimmed trees, beneath the calm lectures of artisans worked in her mind a menacing feeling, categorizing weaknesses, studying the social construct and communication, understanding how easily it could be cut away, how these young, weak wills could be isolated. Twisted. Corrupted.

A wriggle of the abyss shifted her reality, played with the shadows made of each body, until silhouettes were monstrous visions of their own mental demise in her eyes.  This was always how it was meant to b–

“When you are ready,” the Courier spoke a little sharply to the Farstrider, cutting away from the distinct voices and visions ever presently trying to snake into her thoughts, never so far from the source in this land. The professional worked her features into practiced charm, masterfully tucking all of her personal thoughts behind her cordial mask.  “We can’t look on forever, no? There is still work to be done. Deliveries to be made. Void assaults to trim down.”

A sharp turn on her boots faced her away from the idyllic life that would never be hers. “I would continue to appreciate the company. I need practice matching your kills. And maybe a drink afterward.”

{ @lakefire }