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ExtollerOfTrolls

ExtollerOfTrolls

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doodles_by_tearsofchickensoup-dagqg4t.pn

My family is gone for the day (Peace and quiet! Aaahhhh!) and I have the whole house to myself, so I've been doing homework, playing Don't Starve, writing fic, and doodling all day. (Mostly video games.)

I'll probably go make myself some dinner.

A whole load of crap! For a few of these, I decided to do something closer to the original style.

Also, there's an Albert up there, so, hey @Quoth143! (I can take him out if you don't want me to draw him or something.)

If anyone wants to know what some of these are, just ask me.

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ExtollerOfTrolls

ExtollerOfTrolls

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@Quoth143

               Woodie struggled against the bonds. The shadows which sprouted from the arms of the Throne wrapped tightly around his wrists. It brought back memories from a time long before he had come to this world, and they were not pleasant ones.

               He almost wished he could transform to see if his other self had the strength to break free, only… there was no moon here. Stars, but no moon.

               He fell back onto the throne, panting with exhaustion. He had thought he could be back, back in Canada, back home if he did this; if he survived these challenges Maxwell had thrown at him. Instead, he was even more trapped than before.

               How morbidly ironic.

               Don’t give up, Woodie! came that sweet, musical voice, his only comfort left. I know you can do it!

               Lucy had fallen to the ground when the Shadows had grabbed him, but she could still speak, drowning out the sounds of that horrible record player, and her words gave him strength.

               He tugged again, planting his boots firmly on the ground to try to get a little more leverage. He felt the Shadows stretch, and for a second, he thought maybe he had a chance.

               Then They wrapped around his ankles, strapping them firmly to the base of the Throne, and forcing him to sit back down. He hit his head on the back and bit his tongue hard.

               Woodie! Lucy sobbed. Your wrists!

               He looked and saw that blood was flowing down in steady trickles from where the Shadows bound them. He must have cut them while pulling.

               “It’s no use, Luce’,” he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I can’t break them…” He glanced at the platform where he had put that radio. It was empty now, but the platform remained. “And I can’t do to someone else what he did to me…” He realized something. How did he know there were other people here besides Maxwell? Well, he knew that with absolute certainty now…

               There must be something we can do! she fretted. Oh, if only I could cut them!

               There was a hissing sound from the darkness surrounding the circle of light created by the pillars.

               “W-what’s that, eh?” he said, startled.

               Lucy let out a gasp. Whatever you are, stop what you’re doing to my husband now! You can’t do this to him! Hasn’t he suffered enough already?!

               There was another hiss. Woodie felt a strange tugging sensation in his gut. Something was wrong.

               “Lucy,” he whimpered, “please don’t say anything else. Just-“

               She let out a shriek, and Woodie saw why. From the darkness, a dark shape was slowly progressing across the floor. A clawed, three-fingered hand slowly moving towards the Throne. And more of Them appeared to be forming from the darkness.

               Stay away from him! Don’t you touch him! she exclaimed, as though that would keep them at bay.

               Woodie cringed, trying to pull back as well as he could with his bonds. However, to his astonishment, the hands did not seem interested in him.

               Instead, they were heading straight for… “Lucy!” he cried out.

               W-what?! No, no, don’t! Stop! she screamed.

               The hands converged at the exact same time, and wrapped around her. Woodie didn’t know what was going on, but if it had anything to do with the Shadows, he knew it wasn’t pleasant. “Stop!” he shouted. “Stop! I’ll do anything you want!” He tugged his arms as hard as he could, only succeeding in making his wrists bleed harder.

They swelled around her and suddenly dispersed.

A shocking sight met his eyes.

               Rather than a beautiful, red-bladed axe, there stood a woman, also very beautiful, with braided, reddish-brown hair. He knew this woman. This was Lucy, or rather who she had been before the werebeaver had killed her long ago, before they had come here and she had been forced to take that form.

               “Lucy…” he whispered. “You… you’re back.” Tears began to fall from his eyes, quickly being soaked up by his plaid shirt.

               She opened her eyes and looked at her hands in confusion. She touched her skirt and felt her face. “I-I’m human again… Oh, Woodie!” She ran for him, stumbling a bit. She kicked the record-player to the side, affectively silencing it.

               He leaned forward and she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him. He buried his face in her hair, unable to hug her back. Her hair smelled so good, like maple syrup and pine needles. “Lucy…” he said, too stunned to say anything else.

               Was there really anything else to say?

               She removed her arms. “Let’s get you out of here, and then we’ll try to escape. Together. We’ll sock those baddies in the face if they try anything else, eh?”

               He laughed. He was so happy to see that smile again, to feel her lips again. “Together, we can get anything done!”

               She tugged at bonds around his wrists, making an effort not to touch his open wounds. “Hmm, these are tough. If only we had some nice strong beaver teeth to gnaw them back.”

               He frowned. “Or an axe blade to cut ‘em, eh?”

               She gave him an annoyed look. “Let me see if there’s anything in here…” She grabbed his backpack, which had fallen when the Shadows had pulled him into the floor. “There must be something…” She tossed a jar of fireflies and a lump of gold to the side.

               Woodie was content to just watch her. The excitement had momentarily given him energy, but he was exhausted. He just wanted to rest his eyes for one second…

               His head pounded and a wave of pain shot through it. He straightened upright and attempted to grip his head before he realized he was still unable to.

               Lucy looked up. “Woodie? Is something wrong?”

               He looked around at the darkness, struggling not to show signs of fear or pain. “N-no,” he whispered. “J-just trying to stay awake…”

               She gave him a pitying look. “It’s alright. Just try to rest yourself for a minute; I’ll do this.” She returned to her work, but Woodie kept looking around.

               Maybe she was right… maybe it was nothing…

               He spotted it. He spotted it lurking. Or maybe spotted wasn’t such a good word. More than anything, he had sensed it.

               A wave of pure hatred and malicious intent in the dark, but not aimed at him. His head felt ready to burst with pain.

               “Ah, I think this might work!” Lucy said, standing up and holding out a piece of flint. “It’s not a real blade, but-,” she had seen the look of pure agony on his face. She dropped the flint and ran over.

               “Woodie?! Woodie, what’s wrong?!”

               “Run!” he growled, more hostilely than he intended to. “Run and get out of here!”

               “W-what are you talking about?” she questioned, looking genuinely hurt. “I’m not about to leave you behind!”

               He gaped, unable to convey the pain he felt to her. “N-No! Do that! Don’t come back here! You have to get out of here! It’s-!”

               Strands of Shadow shot out of the darkness, wrapping around Lucy’s arms like a thousand strings.

               “H-huh?!” she exclaimed as They pulled her away from him. “N-No!” She tugged, desperate to escape. In response, more of Them simply wrapped around her waist and her legs, pulling her legs out from under her, and making her fall to the ground. “Oof!”

               “No!” Woodie roared. “Lucy! Lucy!” He heard a twanging noise and felt his left arm break free from its bonds. He didn’t have time to think about it, so he reached out and grabbed her arm. She wrapped her hand around his arm and tried to pull herself towards him.

               “Woodie! Woodie! Help me!” she cried, as tendrils continued to cover every inch of her body in an attempt to pull her towards the darkness.

               Woodie tried to tug her towards him, but he could only keep his grip so well with one hand, and an injured one, at that.

               There was a ripping sound, and her sleeve was torn off of her shirt and stayed in Woodie’s hand, making him lose his grip on her.

               “WOODIE!!” she screamed. Her look of pure terror was the last thing he saw before the Shadows swarmed around her and dragged her into the darkness.

               The Shadows wrapped around Woodie’s wrist once more, binding him tightly. He was breathless. “No… No… Lucy! Lucy! Lucy, where are you?!” He tugged more frantically this time, paying no attention to the blood practically spurting out of his wrists. “Let me go! Let me go! You took her! You stole the only thing I had left away! Give her back! Give her back!” he screamed to the darkness. He knew it was listening.

               Around him, the pillars extinguished themselves, leaving him in pitch blackness. “I don’t care! I hate you! I hate you and I wish I was dead! I’ll never see her again because of you!”

               Suddenly, he sensed it. He sensed Her. “Lucy?”

               And IT appeared.

               It couldn’t be Lucy; Lucy didn’t have jet black hair that flickered like a flame.

               It couldn’t be Lucy; Lucy didn’t have long black claws rather than hands.

               It couldn’t be Lucy; Lucy didn’t have pure black sclera, yellow irises, and shining white pupils.

               It couldn’t be Lucy; Lucy would never try to slit his throat or injure him in any way.

               “NO!” Woodie cried out, forgetting everything but his fear for a split moment.

               The lights reappeared as suddenly as they had left, and the presence vanished with a whipping sound.

               The gramophone had somehow righted itself in the darkness and was playing once again.

               Woodie panted, cold sweat running down his face. He looked at the piece of torn fabric, still clutched in his bloody hand. It was flannel, exactly like the one he wore right now.

               After all, he and Lucy had made those shirts together.

               He sobbed and buried his face in it.

                He didn’t realize it till later, but at that moment, the binds on both his wrists and his legs were completely gone.

…

               How long had it been? A year? Maybe not quite that long, but close.

               The flannel shirt that the King had used to wear was long gone, replaced by a clean and crisp, gray shirt and overalls. He didn’t remember when it had happened.

               He stared dully across the hall without really seeing. What He did see was the survivors; all bustling away, because their lives still had purpose to them. Those vision were completely unwelcome to Him, but He had no control over it.

               One of them, the hoser was funny hair, was trying to steal eggs from those disgusting wingless birds. Poor hoser; those were a pain to fight even after you had faced them many times.

               Another one, an old lady, was frantically trying to outrun a pack of blue hounds, snapping at her heels. It was unlikely she would succeed.

               Most of the others seemed to be doing alright, besides the obvious, of course, but one of them caught His attention.

               It was that spider. Poor kid’s fire was almost out and the night would still be going on for a while.

               He was desperately scooping any burnable materials on to keep it just a little longer: sticks, grass, mushrooms, anything.

               It wasn’t enough.

               The flames flickered out and the child cried for his nightlight.

               “Don’t be that way, eh, Luce’?” the King chided, in a hoarse voice. He hadn’t really used it very much.

               The Darkness surrounding the Throne hissed in annoyance.

   He clenched his fist around the torn fabric in His hands and felt something wet drip down His face.

               He heard the splatter of blood and sighed. “You never liked to listen to me, eh…”

               The gramophone continued to play.

Edited by ExtollerOfTrolls
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ExtollerOfTrolls

ExtollerOfTrolls

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23 minutes ago, Quoth143 said:

So sad...

Says the person who almost made me cry in the middle of doing volunteer work at a fair because of remembering her comic.

(But thank you! I hope you like it! I wanna do Wendy, but I feel like it would basically be the same thing...)

Oh, and I just realized it might sound better if you play the ragtime until she kicks aside the record player, and this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fP5JgeyrQ04

until the gramophone starts up again.

 

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Quoth143

Quoth143

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38 minutes ago, ExtollerOfTrolls said:

Says the person who almost made me cry in the middle of doing volunteer work at a fair because of remembering her comic.

(But thank you! I hope you like it! I wanna do Wendy, but I feel like it would basically be the same thing...)

I really like it, poor Woodie and Lucy.

Also that's some very spooky ambiance right there. 

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ExtollerOfTrolls

ExtollerOfTrolls

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7 hours ago, DragonMage156 said:

I can't quite see what she's saying in the first pic but these are good non the less :)

Is that second/third pic a HTTYD reference? ;)

She is saying: You're so cute when you're embarrassed. Your hair floofs up!

Sorta! That's definitely what I had in mind for the posing. (Like, literally as I was sketching the circles for their heads I was just like... MMM, HTTYD poster. That's how I'll pose them.)

8 hours ago, minespatch said:

I feel like you should digitalize the first picture. Kind of hard to see but I'm seeing what you had in mind. You're kind of patterning her after Charlie but she still feels perfect for Woodie.

Maybe I'll outline it and shade it.

Yep, Charlie was part of the inspo. I think I have an old design that I made for if Lucy was the werebeaver and Woodie was the axe, but she looks wayyyyyyy different.

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mewthemew

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8 minutes ago, ExtollerOfTrolls said:

Oh, thank you!

I was playing with some chalk brushes my art program has. I think I'll use them again.

definetely. you're a lot better at digital art than i am. i mean i only used a drawing pad once, but what i drew looks worse than something a kid could do in MS paint.

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ExtollerOfTrolls

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10 minutes ago, mewthemew said:

definetely. you're a lot better at digital art than i am. i mean i only used a drawing pad once, but what i drew looks worse than something a kid could do in MS paint.

Practice, my good friend.

Once you feel comfortable with your traditional art, why don't you try another piece digitally? I can show you my first crap I drew with a tablet. (This was from the beginning of the year, and my tablet was terribly outdated and bad, and now I have an Acer R7, but still.)

http://tearsofchickensoup.deviantart.com/art/You-feel-your-sins-586861096

I feel like it's not terrible considering it's my first digital piece ever, but when I see how much I've improved in just under 8 months... I actually feel a little hopeful.

I mean, it took me 3 years to get to the level I'm at now, and I've got tons to learn about pretty much everything (Hands, stop being so hard to draw.). That's fine; it means in another three years, maybe I will actually be able to animate or draw super realistically.

To get to the point, there are people out there who are super talented at art naturally, and I am not one of them. BUT NEITHER ARE MOST OF THE OTHER ARTISTS WHO I GREATLY ADMIRE. Nothing in the world can make up for years of hard work! Just keep practicing, watching tutorials, learning techniques, asking for help, and looking back often! The most important thing is, don't let other people be the reason you draw. Do it because you love it, not because you are trying to impress or outdo someone else.

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mewthemew

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12 minutes ago, ExtollerOfTrolls said:

Practice, my good friend.

Once you feel comfortable with your traditional art, why don't you try another piece digitally? I can show you my first crap I drew with a tablet. (This was from the beginning of the year, and my tablet was terribly outdated and bad, and now I have an Acer R7, but still.)

http://tearsofchickensoup.deviantart.com/art/You-feel-your-sins-586861096

I feel like it's not terrible considering it's my first digital piece ever, but when I see how much I've improved in just under 8 months... I actually feel a little hopeful.

I mean, it took me 3 years to get to the level I'm at now, and I've got tons to learn about pretty much everything (Hands, stop being so hard to draw.). That's fine; it means in another three years, maybe I will actually be able to animate or draw super realistically.

To get to the point, there are people out there who are super talented at art naturally, and I am not one of them. BUT NEITHER ARE MOST OF THE OTHER ARTISTS WHO I GREATLY ADMIRE. Nothing in the world can make up for years of hard work! Just keep practicing, watching tutorials, learning techniques, asking for help, and looking back often! The most important thing is, don't let other people be the reason you draw. Do it because you love it, not because you are trying to impress or outdo someone else.

i.....thank you. that made me feel a bit better. lemme show you my first piece of digital art http://angelpichu1.deviantart.com/art/first-time-ever-using-a-drawing-pad-634139482?ga_submit_new=10%3A1473717043 if you can't tell, it's a mew bouncing on a green ball. alternatively it could be mew about to fall into a pit of green acid. your first is much better than my first ^^"

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