I remember going out for long walks at odd hours when no one was around. Cool crisp autumn air running through me. There's just been a few too many close shaves that made me stop. Sometimes tides reel in quicker than expected, street racers cutting the kerb too close on their last lap, odd scrapes and bruises that look deeper under the light when I get home. You don't really notice how heavy demin gets with your own blood when its half-soaked already in with the rain. These were all nothing out of the ordinary dangers. People get reckless, I get reckless and push on. Sometimes you may find a body. A heart-attack usually, people tend to ignore the obvious signs of discomfort. Sometimes that body has rabid animal ontop just gnawing into them that suddenly wants more lively food. To this day, I'm just glad I never encountered a serial killer making a dump job. Someone with opposable thumbs would've been smart enough to get over any fence I hop over. Luckily its not like many people make habit of rummaging the refuse well out into the country roads for that perfect 'no one is going to find them' spot. You've got broken glass and barbed wire intermingled for miles in the ditches. Every year there is a story about a teen finding a live landmine.

We don't respect nature enough to not litter and nature doesn't respect us enough to not try and kill us. I just not sure what I saw lately can be called natural. I'm going to make another trip to the shore just to check it real quick. Thought I saw something washed up, a Manniken in a black tarp. Swore it was looking right at me. The north coast has a lot of rocky outcropping and even further out are a bunch of miniature islands the birds have to themselves. Every thing is that same wet, black granite. I know every rock around there and I know it shouldn't be there but it just looked like it belonged there. The other coast has bomb shelters and rusting artillery guns. But there its all rocks and washed up pieces of ship. Not old wooden ships, I've found the casing of navigation equipment, silicone boards, motors. You'd think something like that would be on the news. Its probably just stuff they tossed overboard.

I'm going back to see if its still there. I don't want this to be another 'I nearly saw something paranormal but was too scared to check'. The way its face looked like stone? Its got to be fake.

Rachel's diary, August 10th 19XX

This is part one of a three part set of vignettes. A mix of a childhood fear I had when out exploring and the Synanceia, a species of venomous rockfish now an 'obsideon mermaid'. Rachel's world which Aberdörk is set in is one that was devasted by years of warfare and experimental weapons, that many nations disbanded and regrouped into now united series of city-states. Beyond the urban centres is now just desolated fields, ghost towns, abandoned underground complexes, shelters. I've always wanted to do more about the setting and show how the paranormal is situated in it.

The title comes from Ezekial. "I'm going to give you a new heart, and I'm going to give you a new spirit within all of your deepest parts. I'll remove that rock-hard heart of yours and replace it with one that's sensitive to me." You may have guessed it already, but yes this is Rachel pre-angel. All mortal. No wings or immortality to get out of making contact with a mermaid. The ocean's seventh deadliest predator. /joking

I've said elsewhere that I'm taking time on October to work on Patreon content, that's still true. I'm just struggling with figure drawing and am mixing my time with doing studies and taking notes from anatomy books. The work is going great.

I don't want to make this longer than it needs to be. But why the focus on a more narrative-driven illustration? I want to credit Fauxlacine for that. I'm not a writer, I've very rough on that front. Fauxlacine is such a large inspiration on that front they do make me want to push that frontier.