I pray, silent, not a sound from me
I’m praying, my limbs crossed on my chest
I’m praying and waiting, standing still,
That the big guy watching me goes away.
/* Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook – Porte-mine sur carnet A6 */
Je prie, silencieuse, sans un bruit
Je prie, j’attends, rocher sans failles
Je prie, les pattes croisées, je prie
Que l’humain qui me zieute s’en aille
A rabbit? Again? Why do keep drawing them? Where do they come for?
This one seems different…
/* Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook – Porte-mine sur carnet A6 */
Un lapin ? Encore !? Comment se fait-ce que j’en dessine autant ? D’où viennent-ils ?
Celui-là semble différent…
Come lay in the shade of the lone tree
Feel the gentle breeze, watch rabbits play
You can stay here, you can rest all day
There’s no hurry, there is only me,
/* Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook – Porte-mine sur carnet A6 */
Veux tu te reposer sous mes branches ombragées ?
Laisse la brise te bercer, les lapins t’amuser
Tu peux rester aussi longtemps que tu le veux
Sous mes branches, rien n’est urgent, alors sois heureux.
Life’s different when you’re only five inches high.
New point of view, new obstacles… New monsters.
But in the end, the world’s still larger than you can concieve. The sky’s the same.
Will you ever manage to catch your own body? That’s for another story.
***
La vie est bien différente quand vous n’êtes pas plus haut que deux pommes.
Nouveaux points de vue, nouveaux obstacles… Nouveaux monstres.
Mais à la fin, le monde est toujours plus large que vous ne pouvez le concevoir. Le ciel est le même.
Arriverez-vous jamais à rattraper votre propre corps ? C’est une histoire pour une autre fois.
Pencil doodle on A6 Sketchbook / Porte-mine sur carnet A6Choose again your own direction
Bzzz… don’t mind me. I’m busy!
Busy gathering pollen! and nectar!
Must pollinise, must make honey
So don’t mind me, I’m busy!
Busy saving your crops. saving your lives.
***
Bzzz… Faites pas attention à moi. J’suis occupée!
Occupée à récolter le pollen ! le nectar !
J’dois polliniser, j’dois faire du miel
Alors faites pas attention à moi, j’suis occupée !
Occupée à sauver vos plantes, sauver vos vies.
When the succession war broke, Bredwin the Glassmaker had to move
from the Plains of Conflant to the west coast. Displacing an entire
glass-making workshop is quite the hassle, and he drop many items along
the way, tools, shards of enchanted glass, arcane sand… With time,
some of the magical shard of glass reacted with the fertile nature of
the land, and stranges plants were born.
Nowadays, you
still can trace the path he took by following a trail of magnificent
flowers of translucid glass, so delicate you can’t pick them and so
sharp they cut the wind that blows into strange melodies.
Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
***
Quand
la guerre de succession éclata, Bredwin le verrier du déménager depuis
les plaines du Conflant jusque sur la cote Ouest. Déplacer un atelier
entier de verrerie n’est point chose aisée, et dans la précipitation il
sema le long de son chemin nombre de choses : outils, sables magiques et
débris de verre enchantés…. Avec le temps et la nature fertile de ces
terres, quelques un des éclats de verre se mirent à pousser, donnant
naissance à d’étrange plantes.De nos jours, vous pouvez
encore remonter la trace de Bredwin en suivant une piste d’étranges
fleures de verre colorées et translucides, si fragiles qu’elles se
brisent en les cueillant et si coupantes que le vent lui-même s’en
retrouve déchiré en d’étranges complaintes qui résonnent dans la plaine.
Porte-mine sur carnet A6
It’s just an eclipse… nothing to be afraid… right?
Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
***
C’est juste une eclipse… Pas de quoi avoir peur… N’est-ce pas ?
It’s just an eclipse… nothing to be afraid… right?
Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
***
C’est juste une eclipse… Pas de quoi avoir peur… N’est-ce pas ?
Cairo, Egypt, March 19, 1925
Mouhammad reluctantly left the room of the Continental Hotel, letting Betty preparing the ritual with the various ornaments he fetched for her. That was a strange set of tools she asked him and he did his best to find them all. Buckler, arrows, arc, an ankh, a tiny sarcophagus… All this esoteric stuff was making him nervous, not that he feared the occult, but returning to the place he once worked was risky. He didn’t exactly leave a notice or any explanation of why he left his receptionist job, and “finding the love of his life” was not among accepted motive.
Betty told him not to look. She told him to return in a few hours. She said she will invoke the Spirit of Nets the Huntress to beg her for rest and protection.
He couldn’t resist and swiftly turned back. Using his pass on the door, he cautiously went back in the hotel room. He heard the words of Betty speaking softly some kind of prayer, in an unknown language. As he tried to hide behind the plants, he was overwhelmed by a sudden urge to sleep. He briefly saw a feline shadows, heard a strange metallic noise and fell to the ground unconscious.
And now he’s here. They all are here.
There is no time here. No past. No future. Only an eternal present. The grass is everywhere, taller than them. A gentle and warm wind is blowing. They feel presences out of their sight around them, furtive noises in the bushes of predators, but no fear. They feel protected, relaxed. Mouhammad saw Betty, alongside her sister. Betty was pregnant, and all signs of worry has disappear from her face. She was expecting, radiant, a true goddess. He fell in love again and sit with her. Keeva was slowly stroking the dog. John was alert, but calm and peaceful.
There was no pain, no worries, no anxiety, not even the slightest discomfort. For the first time since ages, they could relax themselves and forget for a while the tasks at hands, the horrible fraternity of the black Pharaoh and the impending return of Nitocris.
This was bliss though Mouhammad. He could stay here for ever. Betty leaned on him and said:
– I want to hunt small critters. To run after they little tails. I want to sleep in the sun and to be petted. This is a dream, I know that. Not The Dreamlands, ‘though… This is the dream of a cat.
Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
Excerpt from an ongoing run of the “Mask of Nyarlathotep” campaign for the Chaosium “Call of Cthulhu” RPG