#trufulla; scripts

[avoidingcertaindoom]

Trufulla; Intro Pt 1 and 2

Beginning

Previous | Next Episode | Next Arc

Summary; The world at large is illustrated before we meet a certain someone

Note; these early episodes are shorter in written length to allow for me to use the comic format more broadly. Other chapters are even longer but closer to exact guidelines for me to draw, this is not due to my desire to freestyle it when I do draw it. I may return to the script afterwards to add more detail another time

1. Corner of the World

[As the years passed, Trufulla developed in leaps and bounds.]

Show off Bianque’s architecture, based on Russia's

Zoom in on kids playing in snow

[The Gods were joyful to let the mortals have their time in this world, and in return for their guidance mortals honoured them grandly]

Temples in Bianque shift to Temples in Labrys, with worshippers knelt in prayer

[New magic was always to be discovered, and these discoveries were constantly shared at the yearly memoriam festivals of Velyana]

Shows of magic in Labrys (earth shaping magic and light shows) and Penasco (weather magic, of storms and cyclones in controlled miniature)

Linger on scenes of two girls leaning on each other watching a such display

[In some accounts, Trufulla is a more unified world than it was to start with. Everyone is unified in their ability to change and grow and learn]

Pass through to the Uccano, Yuzcal, and Sky’s Ridge regions of Penasco, to the changeable hills and meadows of Olwen

[And of course, truffles. Everyone believes that the namesake of the world is the fungi all over it]

Examples of said Fungi, be it lacy skirted caps or gooey slimes or mutated looking bulbs

[But there are exceptions to what all believe should be unified]

A cottage in an unknown region, with a lone woman with dreadlocks and white tattoos on her arms tending to a garden

The dwarven Royal family of Labrys, traveling with a number of guards flanking them

Floryda with its monoculture of nymphs and tourists of varying other species.

Bianque's Council, in argument, with one dark haired member looking to the side in tired frustration.

Panover of Ibiza’s architecture and oasis, with flashes of the royalty; namely a king and queen with two daughters.

[It’s tragic sometimes the lengths some will go to to keep away from the rest of the world]

Show a lone person leaving Ibiza, holding a bundle wrapped in fabric close to their chest and clasping a bag to their shoulder

The person is also dressed rather simply, though their wrists and ankles jingle with metal jewelry.

The figure never looks back as they hurry towards the mountains in the distance, an eager look in their eyes

2. Left Behind

“Tired…”

Two figures, an adult and a small child, are walking in the dark of night. The setting and backgrounds reveal it to be autumn in Olwen, a town known as Cyklam. 

The adult is none other than the one seen prior, fleeing the sands of Ibiza, though they are significantly more made up and less conservative in their dress at this time. Their chest is bound and their legs clothed in gauzy fabric that makes them move as though in a dream.

The child is small, their already diminutive stature drooped with exhaustion, with hair in numerous little plaits and freckles that shine in the night. Two pieces of what looks like lighter portions of hair twist up towards the sky

The adult is walking ahead at a brisk pace while the child struggles to keep up, barely even able to open their eyes

Child; “Nini, it’s so late.”

Nini, the adult, heaves a sigh; “We’re almost there Mione. You can sleep all day if we get there on time.”

Mione; “I want to sleep now.”

Nini; “I could carry you and you could sleep the rest of the way, is that better?”

Mione takes a very intentional step back; “You’ll just drop me again.”

Nini; “What if I promise?”

Mione; “I don’t want to be carried.”

Nini looks away with a look of irritation, wringing their hands. Suddenly an idea seems to dawn on them and they look back to Mione with a finger raised.

Nini; “There is a temple nearby with open barracks for travelers under Adyriz’s protection. We can stay the night there if you’d like? If you can make it there I won’t make you take another step.”

Mione looks confused, tilting their head; “You promise?"

Nini smiles, happy to have figured this out. “You have my word.”

Not seeing anything wrong with this arrangement, the child agrees and they walk to the temple without even a complaint at their guardians' harried pace. Greeted by an acolyte, they are taken in and given a pair of bunk beds in the common barracks. Mione leaves their bag at the side of the bed and burrows under the blankets on the bottom bunk. We never see Nini lay down.

Night turns to day and we see the child awoken by the hustle and bustle in the dormitory. They get up and go through their morning routine, even dutifully replaiting their hair, before taking a seat on their bed and checking through their bag. An acolyte, different from the previous night, comes in and seems surprised to see them]

Acolyte; “what are you doing here all alone?”

Mione doesn’t look up. “I think I slept too late to get breakfast. No one woke me.”

The acolyte glances to the top bunk and notes the bedding isn’t disturbed. The only bags around Mione are their own

Acolyte; “You got here last night?”

Mione nods.

Acolyte; “That’s late for a child to be traveling alone.

Mione; “I wasn’t alone. Nini--I mean, my guardian came with me.”

Acolyte; “I don’t see their things.”

Mione looks up and around for Nini’s bags, but none are found. They shrug

Mione; “Sometimes they want to go to events alone. They’ll be back.”

Acolyte; “What… event?”

Mione; “...I think one in Mulborrough. But we were stopping for the night.”

Acolyte; “Do you remember who let you both in last night?”

Mione; “Her name was Eva…”

The Acolyte nods and leaves to find Eva. Eva confirms the arrival but also mentions she hasn’t actually seen Nini. They don’t return by the end of the day and over the course of that Mione is invited to meals.

The next day is the same, as is the third. The restless child is given a little to do shadowing acolytes and the acolytes try to ask about them

Tidying up the dormitories

Acolyte; “So where are you from?”

Mione; “I dunno. We walked from Ulgon in Sky’s Ridge.”

Acolyte; “No? Well, where’s your house?”

Mione; “You’re funny.” At the pregnant silent, they reluctantly add on. “I don’t have one.”

Cooking meals

Acolyte; “what’s your family like?”

Mione; “Nini likes to travel.”

Acolyte; “You don’t have another parent or siblings or…?”

Mione shakes their head.

[Days turn to weeks...which turn to months.]

Mione goes to bed again in the corner of the barracks, turning to face the wall and pulling the covers over their head

[Which turn to years]

Three frames of them waking up are shown, in temple garb rather than that of their travels. Each frame shows them older, and older, and more withdrawn

Mione shadows the Acolytes enough that eventually they get moved into the Acolyte dorms and formally start training, though they are noticeably keeping a distance between themselves from the others.

As we reach the present day, the no-longer-a child is distractedly playing with beads in their much more tidily woven hair while they attempt to translate a scroll in celestial. Their eyes have many jewel tone highlights, like boulder opal.

Speaker not in shot; “Riki? Riki? RIki!”

The highlights fade and leave their eyes an unusual but unremarkable brown. Looking up in surprise and registering that they’re being called for, Riki quickly packs away their work and rushes to where they’re needed

Riki; “Coming!”

[artianaiolanthe]

I am legitimately so excited about making this progress with trufulla tbh like I'm still a long way from publishing it according to my plans. But the first comic draft is done! I've translated my script to a storyboard outline! I have tangible proof of concept!

Ngl my day at work has been god awful and I'm exhausted but the fact that I finished that has been lifting me up all day. Just that much is done and it feels amazing.

[avoidingcertaindoom]

Trufulla; Prologue

This is the Beginning

Next Episode | Next Arc

Summary; An Acolyte shares the story of the loss of the gods...

[“When Trufulla was young, and it’s people were still carving the land to their needs, the deities that previously called it home found themselves at war, goaded by mortal praise and pleading”]

A small hand, fingers dyed a bloody red, pours sand to illustrate the words of the narrator, sparkling grains guided carefully into looming figures over a battlefield with a blazing pyre in the center

[“The gods that loved this land and each other fought valiantly against those who would covet it, even granting mortals massive feats of magic in order to protect themselves.”]

Another image of a mage, blasting a sort of ray of energy off the steep side of a cliff, is etched out in the sand, the energy coloured a deep red in contrast to the tawny gold scattering in its wake.

[“They were powerful and they were clever; but this was war. And what is a war without casualties?”] 

The next is a woman, silvery grains of sand scattered over her hair and shoulders like a starry veil, while the lower part of her image is a messy, scattered sprawl, as though the artist gave up halfway through creating it.

[“And oh, did the gods weep for their loss. Solange herself stumbled across the scene of the crime against them, and gave her report to the holy ones.”]

The hands are in focus again, casting more silver sand, before there is an abrupt cut to a hand with elegantly polished fingers holding a veil black as night with true stars sparking in the crumpled folds. A stain of gold edges a tear in it.

The owner of the hand comes in to focus, her head bowed with an expression of pure sorrow on her face. Her eyes are hidden in a curtain of bronze hair while black tears seep out of the corners.

“I was too late… we were too late.” Solange looks helplessly to a black skinned god with glistening scales accenting his skin. “Cyris and I, we tried to help, but she was already gone…”

There is a stunned silence while the others slowly process her words, and Adyriz, queen of nature, with her crown of ever shifting plants takes the veil, staring at it with shock while frost crests over her crown and fingers. “Oh Velyana, dear Velyana! It cannot be!” 

A stifled sob comes from another deity, Ulula, so heavily veiled it’s a wonder this was heard, and she covers her mouth. “We should’ve been with her, we should have. This dreadful war has taxed her so…”

“And it will tax us yet.” Stepping forward, Sous gently takes the veil from a distraught Adyriz, holding it up. “Solange, pray tell, how did you find her?”

Solange runs her hands through her waves, staining her hair with the golden ichor of the lost goddess’ blood. “She was weak… clutching at her neck, a vicious wound that would not close…” She fell against Cyris, clutching at the greyed hide of his cloak. “I didn’t know any such thing that could cause the likes of us to bleed so much. I couldn’t do anything but hold and watch while she became one with the dust.”

Cyris places a hand against Solange’s back while the goddess shakes and looks up to Sous, his slitted pupils flickering. “When last we spoke I warned her, talking of mortals making deals with forces they couldn’t contend with. I’ve seen too many with weapons humming with dark energy. I didn’t realize it was so bad a threat.”

“She shouldn’t have been alone like that,” Adyriz closed her eyes, the greenery of her very being withering into a dry, lifeless brown. “My darling, my sister, I failed her…”

“No.” Solange fell to her knees.

[“As goddess of knowledge, Solange knew a great many things.”]

“I failed her. I knew of the deals, dabbled in them.”

[“And the burden of the god’s loss weighed on her heavily.”]

“There’s so much mortals ask to learn, and I couldn’t say no. It’s all my fault.”

[“And so she confessed…”]

“Do what you will with me.” Her hair hid her face as she kneeled, penitient, waiting. “I can never forgive myself.”

There was a silence, alarm on the face of the assembled gods. Ulula’s clinging veils began to drip the salt water of her oceans, tears finally ready to fall, while sand whipped around the assembly.

Finally, Adyriz exhales, and the frost melts away while new growth finds its way through the woven thick of her hair. She holds out a hand to Sous, and he seems to get the message, repairing the veil with a touch (the stain becoming part of the fabric, a splash of gold to liven up the night) and giving it to her.

Stepping forward, Adyriz drapes the fabric over Solange instead, the night seeming to come to life as the black settles over her shining mane.

Adyriz; “What is done is done. You did all you could.” Kneeling, she rests her hands on Solange’s shoulders. “But Velyana understood the lure of knowledge well, she wouldn’t see you punished for following your nature.”

Solange looks up, the blackened tear tracks on her cheeks continuing to flow from where the rosy edges of the veil stopped below her eyes. "But she's gone… a-and I cannot bring her back."

Ulula; "And you would let it happen again?"

Solange; "No! I only mean…"

Adyriz; "We understand what you mean. And we should like to hope that you would learn from this, so that you can make it up to her memory by preventing another instance."

Sous nodded, his eyes passing up from Solange's distress to Cyris' distance. "That goes for you both. We're in this together, are we not?"

Cyris returned his gaze with a steely one of his own. "Of course."

Solange rises, gathering the cloak around herself self consciously, and Adyriz and Sous move away to discuss matters. Exchanging glances, Cyris and Solange to the same.

The scene moves over, back to the sand illustration, and red dyed fingers rest against the edge.

["And do you know what happened next?"]

The artist, gowned in a veil that is a weak imitation of Solange's glorious cloak of night, looks up with dull brown eyes. 

["Of course. The gods won, and the land that remained was shaped into their image and host to the remaining mortals, and the world moved on…"]

[avoidingcertaindoom]

Trufulla ; Intro Pt 3 and 4

Beginning

Previous | Next Episode | Next Arc

Summary; A monk and a cleric walk into a Tavern, realize there's no quality snacks, and walk out to look for some.

A Monk and a Cleric Walk Into a Tavern

[A day in the life of a plucky young Aasimar]

A bustling early autumn day in Mulbourough, particularly the weaving crowds and overlapping sounds of a marketplace. Riki is skirting the crowds with their eyes cast down towards a sheet of paper.

Riki; “Everyone’s always a jester when it’s my week to run errands. Ugh.”

Rolling their eyes, they shove the list into their bag and walk up to the front of a Tavern with a small stone wall framing either side of the entrance. They easily pull themselves up to sit and wait.

Cutting away to a different scene in a nearby area, we can see a tall half orc in monk’s robes holding up a wagon while a child with a toy scurries out from under it.]

Child; “Got it! Thank you Mr. Feng.”

Feng drops the wagon, revealing someone was inside and still clinging to their seat. “No problem! I’ll be around today so if you need me just yell.”

Wagoner, mumbling while the kid skips away; “I think you cracked my wheel.”

Feng; “They asked you to move, I asked you to move, now you have an excuse not to.”

He walks away without another comment, headed off to the same Tavern mentioned above. At this point Riki’s swung their legs up over the side and is laying out over the top of the wall.

Riki stares up at the sky, unimpressed; “You’re late.”

Feng picks them up and sets them upright on their feet. “Emergency caught me. Carting incident.”

Riki; “One stopped you or you caused one?”

Feng; “Kinda both…? I can’t say no to puppy dog eyes, I have a soul.”

As they bicker they both head into the tavern. It’s early enough in the day that things aren’t busy and there are a fair amount of seats available. Out of habit they both proceed to a booth and take a seat on opposite sides. A server comes and takes their orders, and they continue to talk and shift into a more serious discussion. Slightly.

Feng; “What’s on the list this time?”

Riki pauses from tearing up a bread roll to pass the list over. “Everything but jester shoes.”

The list is shown almost dwarfed by Feng’s hands, with scrawled handwriting of various sorts. After an orderly looping script listing materials such as oil, candle wax, paper, and ink, there are more outrageous additions all in different scripts like canbis hemp, croggs, and bacchus vine jam.]

Feng; “...Aren’t croggs jester shoes? Like, only clowns wear croggs so that counts right?”

Riki heaves a sigh. “Of course they are.”

Their food is brought and they continue on with their conversation between bites.

Feng; “Wasn’t the jam banned after last time?”

Riki tips back their glass. “They’re just being assholes. Nothing new.”

Feng; “It’s still rude.”

Riki; “Yeah but not all of it isn’t helpful. We are out of canbis so I probably should stock up on more, and if you look down the list they’re asking for Countess Germanotta sunshades and Labrysian truffles.”

Feng; “So?”

Riki; “So I think I’ll treat myself. If you don’t mind carrying--”

Feng; “I want the shades.”

Riki; “Then I’m not sharing the truffles.”

Feng; “We can’t go halfsies on both?”

Riki; “I’m a person of god and you’re a monk. Can either of us afford it?”

Feng paused to think about it before sheepishly passing over the list. “...Point taken, keep the shades. I need the brain food.”

Riki stands up. “You said it, not me.”

They pay their tab and head out, Riki yanking their scarf over their head as they exit

Truffles

[Why Truffles you may ask?]

A showcase of all the variety of fungi in the marketplace, just as varied if not more so than earth’s crop

Vague shot of Riki and Feng haggling over them with a vendor, gesturing pointedly to curlicues of white

[Some people believe they’re the result of the gods weeping in grief for their lost sister. Others are sure they are charged in magic from the decay of whatever made Trufulla the land it became. And still others think both of these ideas are silly and just appreciate a good snack,]

Show fungi pushing up after a rain shower in Olwen.

Show the bioluminescent varieties growing in a cavern in Labrys, oozing mysticism and intrigue

A quick shot of a thus unnamed avariel (Tlalli) grabbing a cluster of mushrooms from a high perch, then pausing to indulge

[Of course, not all of Trufulla is encaptivated. After all, some types of fungi are still quite toxic and not everyone has a strong immunity against catching ill.]

You know those really spooky looking mushrooms that are definitely poisonous but might as well be an apple to the unknowing Eve? That’s what these are

A dwarf is probably offering one to a non dwarf who looks either panicked or irritated. Friends don’t poison friends.

Two elven teenagers are teasing a third to try and get them to try it "just to see what happens", a particularly neon looking mushroom at that gleams

[And of course they aren’t so easy to come by in regions such as Bianque and Ibiza. So they’re something between a delicacy and an oddity.]

The mushrooms in Ibiza look like they could be dragon eggs.

Bianque at least has a few of the classics… as well as poisonous copycats. Which ones are the copycats you ask? Near impossible to say.

[The point is, most of them are everywhere. There’s a market in transporting them between regions so more than just the local tastes are satisfied]

Riki and Feng are shown haggling over Labrysian mushrooms and Riki pops a glowing red one into their mouth while Feng protests

[And of course, there’s a lot of credit to those who put effort into growing their own strains]

Snow and jelly fungi growing in an underground cavern, a sign in the corner reading something about catacombs.

A pink haired child with scaly skin smooths the ground over a patch, tendril’s creeping after his fingers as he lifts his hands from the dirt.

[But that would be a story for another time]

[avoidingcertaindoom]

Last line tag

Thanks to @loopyhoopywrites for sending!

Riki; “Then that’s what we’ll do. As soon as we’re settled we’re just going to do some exploring, you ought to have the chance to sight see while we’re here. We can ask Lady Lee for recommendations, even!”

Feng laughs and opens the door to his room. “Sure, I’m game for that.”

Riki; “I will need someone to hold me accountable in the morning though. It’s hard to wake up at a godly hour all alone in my own room.”

Feng; “Yes, you can stay the night.”

Riki flounced into his room with much more enthusiasm than they had shown all day, and with a smile and a shake of his head Feng followed them inside.

The hall fades to night, the screen lingering on Feng’s door, and a sigil burns frosty and bright on the polished wood.

Tagging @anoelleart , @mysticstarlightduck , @new-royston-cursebreakers if they would like, and you too!

[avoidingcertaindoom]

Appreciated! I just wrote this in the latest trufulla script yesterday;

We're leaving," Riki whispers, squeezing their hand when Tlalli opens their mouth to speak. "Right now."

Tagging @dancinginsepia @the-ravens-requiem @owlsandwich and whoever else would like to!

New writing game because I’m so tired and I’ve been sad that I haven’t been up for as much writeblr lately.

So

Reblog this with one line, devoid of context, that you wrote today (or the last time you wrote).

I’ll start:

It wasn’t, really. Not nearly as sharp as chocolate.

I’ll gently tag @writernopal @moonluringfrost @abalonetea @author-a-holmes@ albatris @sithbelle @moonshinemagpie @keysandopenmind @mister-writes @gummybugg @sam-glade @stesierra @akiwitch and @k-v-briarwood because that was who I could come up with off the top of my head but if you see this consider yourself tagged!

[avoidingcertaindoom]

Trufulla Edits

After some debate I've decided on changing the chapter where Feng gets infected

So instead of the older version;

In the shade of the night, an oobleck piece of something dark that catches the faint moonlight seems to worm it’s way over decaying leaves and through dying grass. Happening upon Feng in its path to avoid the campfire, it chooses to crawl over him and disappears before reaching the other side. Feng twitches, scratches at the bruising spot it crawled over, and turns to the other side, but otherwise doesn’t react.

Now the (hopefully) final version will be;

In the shade of the night, Feng does his best to twist the blanket over his large frame

A glimpse of the half orc’s dreams fade into the frame, a rippling body of water under moons at an angle familiar to the Floryda region. As the moon’s eclipse each other, the crystal blue waters grow murky, becoming an inky shade of black that thickens into a strange oobleck.

There is a last glimpse of Feng sleeping, now shown sweating despite the chill.

[avoidingcertaindoom]

WIP Excerpt Tag

Thanks @romances-not-tragedies for the tag!

Consider seeing this an open tag, I just wanted to post something quick before work

I almost did one for Cry Little Sister again, but it's been a while since I shared from Trufulla (again, written in a script like format so it can be converted to a comic later)

Tlalli speaks in a low voice. "Since when did aasimar fall ill?"

Riki; "Your guess is as good as mine. What's the deal with Lord Lee?"

Feng; "His daughter says he's got myrcite pox."

Riki twists at one of the baubles in their hair. "Any chance she's mistaken?"

Tlalli; "Who can say. That's why I hoped we could ask to see him ourselves, but it seems that’s out of the question.”

Riki; “It couldn’t hurt to ask again. Maybe she’s embarrassed or afraid, people do strange things in times of stress.”

Feng spoke over the changing scene. “It couldn’t hurt to offer her some peace of mind at the least.”

The next panel shows Juniper sitting at her vanity, sorting through a jewellery box. Her eyes lift to see her mother, smiling warmly and giving her a one sided hug.

Pruina pulls away and turns to stand more clearly into Juniper’s line of sight. “I’ll be back and tuck you in after your father helps you prepare for bed. Do you need anything before?”

Juniper shakes her head, a small smile on her lips. “Fine. See you soon Mama.”

Pruina tucks Juniper’s hair behind her ears, gingerly untangling strands from the loops of metal, before planting a kiss on her forehead and stepping away.

Juniper straightens and goes rigid as another figure lumbers into the light. She keeps her eyes downcast and focuses back on her jewellery while a hand, mottled and bruised with black spots and blackened fingernails, picks up a brush and starts dragging it through her hair in awkward, jerky motions.

[avoidingcertaindoom]

Writblr kindlies I have a question.

My main project (Trufulla) is comic based as you know, and I have a pretty masssive backlog and future showing of scripts that are written both to illustrate the story for the reader as well as the world to translate into drawing, so it can be accessible to as many audiences as possible. I have posted snippets and the like before but I always feel awkward because I know the style might lose people withoout context.

I WOULD like to share the scripts, but I don't know which format it would be best for. So I figured I'd do a poll.

[avoidingcertaindoom]

Happy Sunday Ask-A-Thon, week 4 for @ask-a-thon . What inspires you the most to write, what makes you want to write and what do you treasure most about your writing?

The funny thing is, I think two of my more narratively driven stories kind of started out of spite? But they haven't been wholly sustained from it I can explain--

Trufulla started with a lost Dungeons and Dragons player character of mine, after their first campaign fell to pieces and I was just feeling really bummed and upset I couldn't find a place for them anywhere else. So I made my own! Now Riki's had a whole overhaul as far as race, backstory, and narrative arc and while it was originally just me dabbling in DM type world building I ended up inspired by both my nursing classes and my relationships with my friends. Now I've got the plot outlined, dozens of comic scripts written, and you can see the lineart of the prologue not horribly far down on my blog.

Cry Little Sister was entirely because after at least a year of vibing to the song from the Lost Boys I was very disappointed that the movie didn't match the theme like I had envisioned. It also helped that vampires have been a special interest of mine since childhood, and while Vampires exist in Immortal Coil I had done a lot of worldbuilding around the town that would become Murnau Gap and I didn't have any other way to explore it since it was a large part of one of the characters' trauma that they'd never go back to.

And last but not least, from the above to everything in Immortal Coil, sometimes you just see tropes and stories with fascinating premises but the way things play out aren't at all how you thought they'd be? Like it's good, it's fantastic and kudos to every writer who can make an idea their own. But what if it's in a way that is purely self indulgent to me and the group of friends who put up with my bullshit right? Why not put my own spin, who's going to stop me-

[avoidingcertaindoom]

Last line tag

Tagged by; @skyderman (ty!)

From my most recent Trufulla script;

Tlalli jolts awake, eyes dilated and peering up in panic while a blistering hand presses over her mouth, and something warm drips onto their face.

Riki is leaning over top of them, frazzled and bruised. Their eyes are fever bright and wild, their glow seeming to illuminate the room. One of their arms is bristling with glass shards, blood tracing their arm from the source of the drips.

"We're leaving," Riki whispers, squeezing their hand when Tlalli opens their mouth to speak. "Right now."

Tagging; @mitchell-nihil @worldsfromhoney and at whoever else would like to (just tag me to see

[avoidingcertaindoom]

4, 7, 10 for the writer's ask!

Writer's Asks (accepting)

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

It depends on the day because every so often I'll be writing and I'll come up on a sentence and get painfully, unfathomably stuck because there is a word that should be the next to be typed and I can't remember it. It is the utter death of my muse for the day because I don't want to use the next best word, I don't want to rewrite the sentence to flow better at that moment, I want my word and I don't know what happened to it!

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Being able to paint a picture and share it with people. It's honestly a bit of a detriment to trying to run this blog because of the stories I have here to tell but for me it's one thing to share hcs and another to have something unfold organically in a plot thread. There's so much about Trufulla for example I have such a need to share with people, namely regarding the perception of the main characters and how it differs from the outside in, but it's not something that comes across in my headcanons as well as they do in my scripts and I'm saving those to post for when I have the comics to go with them. It's maddening.

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

Hoo boy. it depends tbh. I think a good definition of haunting for me regarding writing is something that carves a piece of placement in your mind and stays there.

There's the trashy stuff (like a certain sparkly vampire media), and there's the sappy stuff (an unfinished tangled fic), and there's the "what/why the fuck did I just read that" of it all ("The Pain Addict", which I only found out about from Black Mirror and deeply fucking regret. Very much do not recommend under any circumstances)

Thanks for asking!

[avoidingcertaindoom]

WIP Wednesday; Cold Embraces

As they head toward the entrance, they are approached by a human woman with mint green hair, violet eyes, and rosy cheeks. A pin rests over her breast indicative of the Yulivech council.

“You are arriving from Mata?”

Exchanging a glance with the others, Tlalli pulls out Celino’s letter. “Yes actually. Are you Chancellor Chandralis?”

“Oh no, I am here on his errand. You may call me Zascha.” She smiles and curtsies. “I thought to meet you yesterday, but I heard the lift was trouble?”

Tlalli; “Yes well, there was some confusion about the scheduling. We’re so sorry to keep you waiting.”

Zascha; “Oh it’s hardly that much trouble! I’m to take you to meet him so you can converse and arrange a place to stay.”

Feng; “Oh nice! I was honestly worried about looking for an inn in this weather.”

Zascha; “Well, you might still want to look for one later…” She shakes her head and clasps her hands. “But for now, just after me.”

She leads the trio outside, into a carriage with wheels wrapped in thin chains to help guide it over the falling snow. The carriage is quite large inside, though Tlalli has to angle herself awkwardly to allow space for her wings to not be crushed. This time Riki does humour a peek, seeing a trolley rail pass them by and the start of taller, grander buildings to keep out the slush

Feng; “Kinda late to joke we aren’t in Olwen anymore but this really does seal it.”

After a time in which the sun has (quite rapidly) set, they arrive outside of a columned building reminiscent of a courthouse. Coming down the stairs is a figure swathed in a pale blue fur robe, with dark hair gleaming in the moonlight. 

Zascha is first out of the carriage and cheerfully greets them by clasping their hands in hers. “Perfect timing, I would have hated to miss you! Your guests have arrived.” She turns and gestures to them, the closer proximity revealing cool silvery freckles and eyes the classic blue and cool tones of opal. “This would be Chancellor Chandralis, speaker of Yulivech’s High Council.”

“Just Pierce is fine, I insist on it actually.” Pierce catches Riki’s hand as they’re on their way out of the carriage to help them down before giving it a firm shake. “Celino was quite thorough in her advance letter, and I appreciate all you have done already.”

[avoidingcertaindoom]

I'm way late from the making of this I know but hello! My name's Iole, I'm a storyteller interested in fantasy and horror and always looking to hone in on writing both.

This blog was originally dnd oriented but I've since slid it over to a focused writing/concept blog for Trufulla, incorporating the above themes into a comic. Which has so far meant writing a TON of scripts and experimenting with writing styles so they're just as descriptive as the comic slides will be.

Trufulla is about what happens when magic woven through the very foundation of a world begins to fester. When a horrible sickness begins to crop up in Trufulla, many begin to fall ill, festering and oozing black that never seems to end.

When a dear friend falls ill shortly after returning home to Olwen, a life cleric decides to take the matter into their own hands and set off traveling across Trufulla to get to the bottom of things. In researching the sickness, discoveries are made about secrets long hidden, even beyond the gods. Can a cure be found before it's too late, or will Trufulla succumb to darkness?

I've already posted a few wips here and I've got a backlog of aesthetic posts about the main characters, the regions, and the gods! If anyone has questions about the history or the world building I'd love to be hit up, but in the mean time I'd just enjoy the company while I continue developing the characters and work towards the ending!

Feel free to spread this around if you've got similar interests!

[artianaiolanthe]

Reply/reblog if I should work on more Trufulla scripts, my Twilight rewrite, or my supernatural trope ocs

[avoidingcertaindoom]

Questions?

While I work out the plot and script of Trufulla does anyone have any questions about the characters shown so far, or even the parts of the world mentioned and not? (For ref you can check the "#truffula tag" for more specific characters to inquire about)