I really really would like to have a dog. We always had dogs. But now I really want a Pomeranian and name him/her Sif ^^
I...am sorry.
Don’t tag my art as anything kin-related.
Don’t repost my art without written permission.
Y’know, I love the slight accent Ornstein has here after finding this. And really, I think it compliments the lion motif for favorite Knight of Gwyn, tied with Artorias.
the Abysswalker is going to be interesting to write since it’s the first time I have a POV character who identifies as nonbinary. And since Caron personally identifies using Xe/Xer, it’s gonna be a personal challenge to remember to use those rather than They/Them
Remember The Abysswalker? The idea I had of a reality-jumping, time-traveling, eldritch horror-hunting hero? Well, I’ve started writing. I intend the first book to be a collection of short stories introducing Caron (The titular Abysswalker) and how xe came to be what xe are now.
But, beneath the cut I’ve got you a treat from two different scenes that take place when Caron is trapped in the Abyss for the first time.
The darkness was consuming, drowning out all the senses with acute nothingness.
Nothingness was all that there was. It was overwhelming, it was overpowering. A world of darkness, asleep but conscious.
Caron couldn’t see, couldn’t taste. Mouth open to scream but there was only silence, moving to feel but the body was nonexistent.
Time felt wrong. The seconds ticked on like years, and yet deep inside Caron felt that time was not moving at all. It felt wrong, everything felt wrong, inhuman. Caron shouldn’t be here, that feeling wouldn’t go away, it was the only feeling that Caron could feel at all.
What happened? How had Caron come here? Where was here? The answers were too far away to reach, too far hidden in the recess of the mind, too terrifying to confront, to acknowledge.
Was Caron alive? Was this the afterlife? Was this Hell? This nothingness, this torturous abyss could only be Hell.
II
The air shifted and changed and changed. Caron felt the terror rushing through xer body, the instinctual fear, the creeping screech in xer mind. The need to flee, but the inability to do so.
In this abyssal world, Caron could finally see. But what xe saw Caron wished xe hadn’t.
It was a horrible, terrible, indescribable beast, vaster than any kingdom, yet as small as a shabby cottage. A shapeless amalgamation as solid as stone, shifting and morphing like water taking shape. It shined dimly in the darkness, a self-luminous atrocity with a innumerable amount of fleeting, temporary eyes that formed and vanished like flickering lights on the changing maw that bore down on xer as it swam mutely through the darkness, the world fracturing and shattering around it.
Caron’s head screamed, the pain that coursed through xer brain was immeasurable, greater than any wound xe had suffered in the past. The longer that Caron stared at the abomination, the more xe could feel xer mind trying to fragment, could feel madness clawing at xer, trying to sink its oozing claws into xer brain.
The temporary eyes looked at Caron for a second, for a decade, and Caron felt xer heart stop in xer chest, felt the blood running down xer face. Xe couldn’t breathe, xe couldn’t run. Xer head was filled with whispers, deep, gurgled, in a language too alien to comprehend, could see the images of monstrosities flash through xer eyes. The whispers grew louder, more insistent, demanding to be heard until Caron could not ignore them. Words that Caron could not grasp, yet the malign intent was clear as glass.
The horror was gone. The fragmented and shattered reality repaired, leaving Caron in the empty darkness once more.
The whispers receded yet did not go, they quieted but remained at the corners of Caron’s mind, talking to xer in their alien tongue.
Caron could breathe, but it was rugged, xer lungs felt clogged, closed. Xer heart had resumed its beating. Xe was aware of the blood seeping down from xer nose, mouth, from xer ears and eyes.
Letting out a ragged sob, Caaron was alone in the empty abyss once more.
