The longest range in Lambastia, the Tuun Mountains cover up much of the northwest. Unlike the harsh Fe'gan Mountains, the Tuun Mountains have varying temperatures, from very mild to slightly colder depending on where you go and which sections you explore. (+3 Offense)

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Paint My Soul, What Do You See? [Self][A]

Postby FieldsofIris » 01/19/2017 4:29 PM

Image

This was the one, he was SURE of it this time. The man cackled quietly to himself, continuously muttering under his breath as he dragged the brush across the canvas in front of him. Almost done, almost done! He was positively quivering with glee at this point, throbbing with the thought of his finished portrait.

Suddenly, he jerked his arm back. He held is breath, staring down at the last brush stroke he had placed upon the canvas. After a moment of complete stillness, a tortured scream tore itself from his throat. He threw down his brush in a fit of rage and began tearing at his head, fingers pulling out clumps of his own hair. Spinning and pacing around the small room, he knocked over several books, glasses, and paint bottles. He barely noticed the shattering of glass and the spattering of paint as he raked his nails over his face, shrieking hoarsely.

He abruptly whirled to the canvas, teeth bared in disgust.

The man ran to the easel and tackled it to the floor, landing on the still wet portrait. He began to brutally throw his fists down onto the figure in the painting, tearing the canvas and blurring the still wet paint. It wasn't until his knuckles were cracked and bleeding, and the floorboards below had been slightly splintered, that he fell back, panting with exhaustion.

Then, just as quickly as he had started screaming, his eyes filled with tears. He curled onto his side as his body was wracked with sobs of agony and defeat. What had gone wrong, why couldn't he get it right?! He asked himself these questions over and over, sobbing and wailing in despair, the canvas laying in the corner, damaged beyond recognition - or salvation.

Elliot didn't leave that spot for the rest of the night.

And is there a God up there? 'So,
where does he hide?
'Cause the devil is raging inside my
mind
And is there a moment where it all
makes sense?


~Amen by Amber Run~


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Re: Paint My Soul, What Do You See? [Self][A]

Postby FieldsofIris » 01/20/2017 5:26 PM

When he awoke the next morning, it was to the throbbing in both his head and fists. With a sigh, he heaved himself into a sitting position. His head turned slowly, eyes examining the mess he had created as he brought a hand down his face to stifle a yawn. After cataloging the damages, Elliot pushed himself up and stretched. If he was perturbed by the events last night, he didn't show it. But, then again, why would he treat this as if it was unusual?

Huffing with an odd mix of amusement and disgust, the aching man stumbled to the bathroom. He pulled a nearly empty bottle of pain medicine from the shelves of his medicine cabinet after stabilizing himself against the sink. With shaky hands, he grabbed the glass from the side of the counter and began filling it with water from the sink. While it filled, he managed to extract four pills from the bottle, placing it back onto the shelf after closing it tightly.

He turned off the sink and grabbed the glass, popping the pills in his mouth before gulping them down using the lukewarm water. He quickly finished the rest of the water and set the glass back down onto the counter. Spinning to go out of the bathroom, he paused when he caught his reflection.

What a sight he was. He turned his face this way and that as he took in the scratches marked down his cheeks. Then, he bent his head slightly as he noticed patches of dried blood where he had ripped out his hair. With a sigh of annoyance, he quickly rid himself of his clothes and prepared to hop in the shower. He refused to look in the floor length mirror again, not wanting to see his bony ribs, his too-thin legs or scars from past occurrences.

Elliot pulled back the curtain shielding the tub and leaned forward, twisting, pulling, and turning the knobs until steaming hot water began to pour from the shower head. With a steeling breath, he stepped over the edge of the tub and let the scalding water cleanse him. He hissed at the pain but sighed in relief, feeling as if his sins were spinning down the drain alongside the dried blood, refreshing him, absolving him.

And is there a God up there? 'So,
where does he hide?
'Cause the devil is raging inside my
mind
And is there a moment where it all
makes sense?


~Amen by Amber Run~


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Re: Paint My Soul, What Do You See? [Self][A]

Postby FieldsofIris » 05/13/2017 4:49 PM

I wasn't until the water ran cold that Eliot finally stumbled out of the bathroom, water dripping off of his shaking form and onto the floor. The man began padding around the room, papers sticking to his wet feet as she searched for a towel, any towel. Eventually, he came across an ancient woven blanket... The colors were quite faded, but he could still faintly make out the design.

The caption "Ελάτος και Ομφάλες - 1150" was centered in the middle of the blanket, right above an intricate diamond pattern. Eliot grinned crookedly, running his damp hands over the blanket lovingly. How he had managed to preserve the blanket for nearly a millennium, he would never know. Though it had been so long, he could still remember when Ophelia first made the blanket... At the thought of Ophelia, Eliot was jarred back to the present.

After a silent moment of contemplation, his lips began to tremble, and he grasped the blanket desperately to his chest. Why did she leave him?! Why, why, why?! The man choked out a harsh sob, and with it, the dam burst. Tears streamed down his face at an alarming rate, and he dashed unsteadily towards the corner of the room. Before he could reach it, his foot caught on an old half-finished canvas, and he was sent sprawling onto the floor.

Another loud sob burst out of him on impact, and he refused to try and get up again. He instead rolled over and buried himself in the large blanket. The design happened to end up right next to his face, though he could barely make it out through his tears. Lifting his trembling fingers, he began to trace the curved lettering of the names.

And there he stayed for another long while.

And is there a God up there? 'So,
where does he hide?
'Cause the devil is raging inside my
mind
And is there a moment where it all
makes sense?


~Amen by Amber Run~


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Re: Paint My Soul, What Do You See? [Self][A]

Postby FieldsofIris » 10/21/2017 10:23 PM

He hadn't always been this way.

For hours, Eliot lay naked on the floor, dwelling on the memories of his early life. It was almost as if he was dreaming while still awake, like he was bodily transported to a different time and place. The hot, moist summers of ancient Greece warmed his skin, and the oppressive sadness of everyday life was stifled by the taste and scent of fresh wine.

He had been so happy in those days. As an artist, he had always been in business, travelling constantly between villages. Unfortunately, art became less of a form of income as the centuries rolled by. Maybe that's when it had started - his descent into madness. Oh, she would always assure him that he wasn't mad, that he was simply struggling to enjoy life.

That certainly didn't seem to be the case anymore. If only she could see him now. Their house was a wreckage of ruined art and broken objects... with Eliot himself being the most broken of them all. As each day passed, his hope became less and less that he would ever be put back together, even if she were to return. Three years was a long time to be alone, with failure as the only company. Three measly years was only a fleeting moment in the face of his entire lifetime, but he had no idea how he had lived before meeting her.

And now he had no idea how to live without her again, either.

And is there a God up there? 'So,
where does he hide?
'Cause the devil is raging inside my
mind
And is there a moment where it all
makes sense?


~Amen by Amber Run~


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Re: Paint My Soul, What Do You See? [Self][A]

Postby FieldsofIris » 12/03/2017 11:19 PM

The naked, shivering man pushed himself to his feet, joints cracking and popping in protest after hours on the cold, hard floor. He looked around groggily, with the cherished blanket still clutched tightly in his hand. Almost absently, Eliot wound the blanket tightly around him, effectively warming his chilled skin.

With a huff, he began shuffling into the room adjacent to the bathroom, pointedly keeping his gaze towards his goal. He reached the dresser, and began to rummage around its contents, keeping the blanket around him with one hand and searching with the other. After a moment, he let out a triumphant garble and stumbled to the large bed in the back corner of the room.

Eliot focused on dressing quickly, keen on ignoring the room around him. Even after he finished adjusting his sweater and gym shorts, he continued to carry the blanket with him back into the disaster of a parlor. He draped the precious fabric across the back of the couch before wandering over to the cold fireplace.

In no time at all, a decent fire was burning, quickly warming up the space around it. With the feeling finally back in his socked feet, Eliot grabbed a mostly empty garbage bag from the corner of the room. The man began to pick up the mess around him, leaving behind only the canvases, which he stacked in a corner of the room.

It had been a long, long time since Eliot had last experienced this calmness, and he wasn't going to let it go to waste.

And is there a God up there? 'So,
where does he hide?
'Cause the devil is raging inside my
mind
And is there a moment where it all
makes sense?


~Amen by Amber Run~


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Re: Paint My Soul, What Do You See? [Self][A]

Postby FieldsofIris » 12/05/2017 11:43 PM

It was surprisingly warm outside for being up so high in the mountains. Eliot hiked the trash bag up once more on his shoulder, thankful for the slight breeze as bead of sweat ran down the back of his neck. The man made his way around the house through the muck and slush, his tall boots preventing the mud from making contact with his skin.

After awkwardly shuffling to the back of the house, Eliot managed to lift the overstuffed trash bag into the appropriate bin. He allowed himself only a short break before repeating his trek back to the stable ground of the front walkway. Thinking ahead, he left the mud-covered boots outside and quickly stepped indoors.

The room looked remarkably different from the chaos it once was. The hardwood floors were now visible, now shining after the thorough mopping the determined man gave them. He had managed to dust, sweep, and vacuum in under a half hour, even going so far as to light some candles and use fabric cleanser on the furniture. Cleaning the bathrooms and kitchen took the better part of the next hour, but were also completed.

For the first time in a while, this home actually started to feel like home for the tormented man.

Quickly, Eliot broke from his musing and hurried on into the house, straightening some of the framed photographs and paintings on the walls as he went. However, he hesitated outside of the master bedroom, the one place he really had yet to face, let alone clean.

With a deep breath, Eliot calmed his emotions and steeled his mind, carefully stepping into the minefield of memories.

And is there a God up there? 'So,
where does he hide?
'Cause the devil is raging inside my
mind
And is there a moment where it all
makes sense?


~Amen by Amber Run~


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Re: Paint My Soul, What Do You See? [Self][A]

Postby FieldsofIris » 12/08/2017 12:18 AM

It had stopped feeling warm and safe years ago - their bedroom, that is. Eliot felt tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and he slowly paced the room, taking his time examining every inch. The pictures of them were getting dusty, muddling their faces beneath years of loneliness. The paintings were much cleaner, though he had no idea why.

Between each artifact, his slightly trembling hand caressed the wall - wisteria purple, her favorite color. He loved it on her, too, and how her blonde hair seemed to shine even brighter... Eliot nearly ran into the nightstand, then, shaking himself out of his thoughts. Looking down, he dropped his hand from the wall and onto a delicate silver locket.

He took a deep breath, then held it tightly within his grasp as he all but collapsed onto the bed.

Past, present, and future were warring in his mind, making him shake with desperation. All he wanted was to be happy, to find a purpose and enjoy his life with those he loved. Unfortunately, it seemed like a lifetime of happiness had to end at some point when you had been around as long as Eliot had. The tears that had held back for the entirety of his exploration now came streaming down his cheeks.

He had always gotten everything he wanted. Now he doesn't know how to handle having that taken away. For the first time since her departure, his mind felt healthy enough to deal with his emotional trauma. With a shuddering exhale, Eliot let himself cry.

And is there a God up there? 'So,
where does he hide?
'Cause the devil is raging inside my
mind
And is there a moment where it all
makes sense?


~Amen by Amber Run~


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FieldsofIris
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Re: Paint My Soul, What Do You See? [Self][A]

Postby FieldsofIris » 12/14/2017 7:38 PM

After only a few minutes, the sobs and shaking subsided, though the tears continued to stream down his cheeks. Luckily for him, that allowed him enough stability to begin cleansing this room, as well.

Eliot opened the goldenrod curtains and closed his eyes as sunlight streamed into the room, seemingly lifting the darkness away. A small, shaky smile graced his lips, and he faced the dusty furniture once more. It was no match for Eliot as he brandished his old feather-duster.

Stopping at the first photograph, he paused, then carefully removed it from the wall. With each pass of the feathers, the image beneath the glass emerged further and further. It was of them, of course. Oh, it was the time they had first hiked into these mountains! In the picture, a soft smile graced his face as he looked at her. She had just braided some wildflowers into her hair and was beaming back at him, a slight flush on her cheeks.

She was gorgeous.

Unbeknownst to Eliot, the tears had stopped flowing, the wet trails beginning to dry on his cheeks as his lips mimicked their form in the picture. The man finished passing the duster over the frame and looked at it for a moment longer, inspecting it for any more dust. Satisfied, he hung the picture back in its place and moved onto the next.

And is there a God up there? 'So,
where does he hide?
'Cause the devil is raging inside my
mind
And is there a moment where it all
makes sense?


~Amen by Amber Run~


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FieldsofIris
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Re: Paint My Soul, What Do You See? [Self][A]

Postby FieldsofIris » 12/16/2017 1:12 PM

This one was when they had gone sailing in the Nodia Sea. The next, when they had visited the cold remains of the Lya Point Cathedral. And another, just of her, in the gardens in front of this very house. The sunflowers had decayed in her absence, though they always came back every spring.

Eliot sat the duster down for a moment as he rehung that last photo. Making sure it was straight, he let his fingers linger against the now clean glass. How long had it been since he had last held her in their bed? How long since he had even seen her face in person? He couldn't remember.

Drawing his hand away, he picked up the duster once more, focusing on the furniture instead. After a few minutes, the desks was nice clean, but now the hardwood floor was littered with dust bunnies. Quickly, Eliot put away the duster and picked up a broom and dustpan.

It seemed like the process was never ending.

And is there a God up there? 'So,
where does he hide?
'Cause the devil is raging inside my
mind
And is there a moment where it all
makes sense?


~Amen by Amber Run~


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FieldsofIris
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Re: Paint My Soul, What Do You See? [Self][A]

Postby FieldsofIris » 06/20/2018 10:23 PM

Taking time for a thorough cleaning every now and then is important. After spending hours cleaning - taking the urge to do so as far as it would allow him - he felt at peace. Eliot walked slowly from room to room, carefully inspecting the cottage's every square inch as he appreciated his work.

It had been years since the man had felt this much like himself. What a wonder some deep cleaning and a healthy cry could do, sometimes. Eliot smiled, finishing his route at the back porch of his - their home. Though the inside was faring quite a bit better, the outside was a bit worse for wear. Just as Eliot pondered doing another round of work, a quiet pulse of thunder rumbled above the mountains.

It would be better to take a break now than to overdo it, anyway. Going into the kitchen, he pulled out the kettle and readied a cup of tea while he waited for the storm to break. Just as the tea finished steeping, a bright flash of lightning shown through the windows, startling Eliot more than the quiet thunder that followed. A harsh breeze blew through the open window, causing the man to shudder at the sudden chill.

He quickly closed the window and grabbed his cup, bringing it with him back to the living room. The newly cleaned couch called to him, and he cuddled up on the pillows as he held the mug to his chest. As the rain began to pour, Eliot draped the old, woven blanket over his bared legs and sighed.

A rare, peaceful night seemed easily within reach for the man as he settled in and watched the fire crackle gently, the storm providing a surprisingly soothing backdrop for his musings.

And is there a God up there? 'So,
where does he hide?
'Cause the devil is raging inside my
mind
And is there a moment where it all
makes sense?


~Amen by Amber Run~


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FieldsofIris
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