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Description

The climb was steep, and Taro wasn't sure if his head felt heavy becuase of the damp green air, or how high the path went. Greenery flashed by him as he ran, urgency like a drum, dictating his legs move faster, faster. During the ran, he focused not on what he could see, for everything flashed by so quick and if he were to look closer he would have to admit that indeed the bushes and fern moved aside to clear the old path for him, and question the reason behind that strangeness. Instead, Taro focused on the sounds, wet squelching from the moss he trampled. It was quiet and each step was harder to hear than the previosu one, so straining to catch every sound was distraction enough from the uneasiness at the unatural behavior of the forest. Rigth as he was about to entertain the thought of giving up, a new sound came. Quiet and high pitched, pitifully weak in the dense woods. His run slowed to a walk by itself, and he didn't question that either. The trees parted as he slowly moved towards the sound. Now he could make it out a bit clearer, though it seemed weaker still. And then Taro stopped entirely. In front of his stretched what was possibly the tallest tree he had ever seen. Birds rustled its leaves and vines hung still from it's branches and at its roots stood the source fo the sound. Taro aproached it, unsure what to make of it. It was a thing of stone, touched by something, altered, but Taro could not tell how. And at the middle of it there was a different stone, round and polished and broken in two pieces. Taro stuck his muzzle in the opening to get a better feel of the shiny stone, when he heard the sound again. Words. Taro knew words, or the concept of them, but he could not piece together a meaning of what he heard. He heard things that almost sparked somethiing in him for a moment and just as quickly turned incomprehensible again. But he understood the intent, he could recognise the pleading tone like one would recognise a song from their childhood. He stood contemplating that for a while, for he knew neither what exactly a song was like, nor what childhood was. Words swam around in his head and he had almost forgotten where he was, until the voice grew in volume, high pitched and desperate, and Taro understood. "Fix me" it said. Again and again and again, a whispered scream that echoed in his already aching head. He shook, his skin was crawling. The voice took to begging now and Taro felt the urge to comply. I can fix that, I can do anything, said a voice he recognised in his mind. But the voice didn't belong to him. It belonged to Taro who's nae had been given by others, not to Taro who had taken the name himself becuase there was nothign else. Taro of blurry visions, whose skin touched cotton and could sip a soup will have knelt there and fixed it. Taro of older days would have fixed anything, a small stone was so easy. But the Taro of this day, Taro who could neither feel things under his feet neither the breeze on his shoudlers and had to pretend he does, to drag from the depths of his soul the memory of these things in order not to loose his mind, this Taro could not do it. He couldn't fix his own forest, his own tiny creak most days, how in the world would he ever be able to fix something he didn't know, something that spoke, something that wasn't a plant or a creature with breath. No, Taro would ruin it if he touched it. THis wasn't hsi forest. This was strange, and wrong, and only now did he notice the rotten bark around the strange rock and he felt sick. Not really sick, but he remembered feeling sick well enough to be able to connect it to how his soul and mind were wriggling and protesting. He turned his head, thought about how he didn't remember what tears were as the rock continued to beg and whisper to him in a voice he wishes he didn't recognise, he sent an apology and he walked away, a bit defeated. And a bit lighter too, as if all was right again. The forest air didn't feel as dense now.

excuse the typos and any mistakes, I wrote this at 3am.

_____________________

Did I just make two sceneries in on eday yes I did. And now I think my drawing brain is broken. But alas, it was worth it.

For chapter one of shattered peaks, Taro decides to not to fix or harm the shrine token.

I felt that was right for him where he's at in his life right now.

Esk featured is

_____________________

AP BREAKDOWN:

for painting:
Base Score: 10 AP (Shaded Illustration)
+5 AP (Full Body)
+20 AP (Full/Scenic Background)
+5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)
+5 AP (Event Biomw Bonus)

+15 AP (Quest Prompt Bonus)

Total AP per submission: 50

for writting:
Base Score: 15 AP (Writing: 753 words)
Total AP per submission: 15

TOTAL AP: 65

GP BREAKDOWN:

For painting:
Base Score: 4 GP (Shaded Illustration)
+2 GP (Full Body)
+6 GP (Full/Scenic Background)
+2 GP (Event Biome Bonus)

+8GP (Quest prompt Bonus)

Total GP per submission: 22

for writting:
Base Score: 7 GP (Writing: 753 words)
Total GP per submission: 7

TOTAL GP: 29

________________

ThoseWhoWentMissing

Description

The climb was steep, and Taro wasn't sure if his head felt heavy becuase of the damp green air, or how high the path went. Greenery flashed by him as he ran, urgency like a drum, dictating his legs move faster, faster. During the ran, he focused not on what he could see, for everything flashed by so quick and if he were to look closer he would have to admit that indeed the bushes and fern moved aside to clear the old path for him, and question the reason behind that strangeness. Instead, Taro focused on the sounds, wet squelching from the moss he trampled. It was quiet and each step was harder to hear than the previosu one, so straining to catch every sound was distraction enough from the uneasiness at the unatural behavior of the forest. Rigth as he was about to entertain the thought of giving up, a new sound came. Quiet and high pitched, pitifully weak in the dense woods. His run slowed to a walk by itself, and he didn't question that either. The trees parted as he slowly moved towards the sound. Now he could make it out a bit clearer, though it seemed weaker still. And then Taro stopped entirely. In front of his stretched what was possibly the tallest tree he had ever seen. Birds rustled its leaves and vines hung still from it's branches and at its roots stood the source fo the sound. Taro aproached it, unsure what to make of it. It was a thing of stone, touched by something, altered, but Taro could not tell how. And at the middle of it there was a different stone, round and polished and broken in two pieces. Taro stuck his muzzle in the opening to get a better feel of the shiny stone, when he heard the sound again. Words. Taro knew words, or the concept of them, but he could not piece together a meaning of what he heard. He heard things that almost sparked somethiing in him for a moment and just as quickly turned incomprehensible again. But he understood the intent, he could recognise the pleading tone like one would recognise a song from their childhood. He stood contemplating that for a while, for he knew neither what exactly a song was like, nor what childhood was. Words swam around in his head and he had almost forgotten where he was, until the voice grew in volume, high pitched and desperate, and Taro understood. "Fix me" it said. Again and again and again, a whispered scream that echoed in his already aching head. He shook, his skin was crawling. The voice took to begging now and Taro felt the urge to comply. I can fix that, I can do anything, said a voice he recognised in his mind. But the voice didn't belong to him. It belonged to Taro who's nae had been given by others, not to Taro who had taken the name himself becuase there was nothign else. Taro of blurry visions, whose skin touched cotton and could sip a soup will have knelt there and fixed it. Taro of older days would have fixed anything, a small stone was so easy. But the Taro of this day, Taro who could neither feel things under his feet neither the breeze on his shoudlers and had to pretend he does, to drag from the depths of his soul the memory of these things in order not to loose his mind, this Taro could not do it. He couldn't fix his own forest, his own tiny creak most days, how in the world would he ever be able to fix something he didn't know, something that spoke, something that wasn't a plant or a creature with breath. No, Taro would ruin it if he touched it. THis wasn't hsi forest. This was strange, and wrong, and only now did he notice the rotten bark around the strange rock and he felt sick. Not really sick, but he remembered feeling sick well enough to be able to connect it to how his soul and mind were wriggling and protesting. He turned his head, thought about how he didn't remember what tears were as the rock continued to beg and whisper to him in a voice he wishes he didn't recognise, he sent an apology and he walked away, a bit defeated. And a bit lighter too, as if all was right again. The forest air didn't feel as dense now.

excuse the typos and any mistakes, I wrote this at 3am.

_____________________

Did I just make two sceneries in on eday yes I did. And now I think my drawing brain is broken. But alas, it was worth it.

For chapter one of shattered peaks, Taro decides to not to fix or harm the shrine token.

I felt that was right for him where he's at in his life right now.

Esk featured is

_____________________

AP BREAKDOWN:

for painting:
Base Score: 10 AP (Shaded Illustration)
+5 AP (Full Body)
+20 AP (Full/Scenic Background)
+5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)
+5 AP (Event Biomw Bonus)

+15 AP (Quest Prompt Bonus)

Total AP per submission: 50

for writting:
Base Score: 15 AP (Writing: 753 words)
Total AP per submission: 15

TOTAL AP: 65

GP BREAKDOWN:

For painting:
Base Score: 4 GP (Shaded Illustration)
+2 GP (Full Body)
+6 GP (Full/Scenic Background)
+2 GP (Event Biome Bonus)

+8GP (Quest prompt Bonus)

Total GP per submission: 22

for writting:
Base Score: 7 GP (Writing: 753 words)
Total GP per submission: 7

TOTAL GP: 29

________________

ThoseWhoWentMissing