Gildedguy vs Bog

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An infernal battle between gold and acid.
Support Gildedguy at ►http://gildedguy.com/support

(◙◙) Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/gildedguy
(◙◙) Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/gildedguy
(◙◙) Youtube: http://bit.ly/1TU1Gs0

Main Song ♫
"A Real Life "by Greek Fire

Original Score (Intro & Credits) by PowerMeep (https://www.twitch.tv/powermeep)

This was a 9-month long project. I learned a ton about art, animation, and myself during its production. Thank you to Ben (PowerMeep) for meticulously producing the intro and credits score, Greek Fire for their awesome song, and all the Patrons for supporting the project.

I'm always eager for feedback, so I'll see you in the comments!


hwell yeah cool story and music!!

This is incredible! How do you guys make stuff like this?

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This is absolutely incredible!!! The animation is flawless and sent chills down my spine! Bravo! The characters were great and I could feel their emotions. Such awesome work my friend.

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This is an amazing animation! keep up this amazing work

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Goodness Gracious. I'm not sure where to start...

First, I suppose a little context is due, in part. Hello! My name is Eli;
a writer; a composer; a poet.
You may not know me, but I'm something of a devotee when it comes to animation. I have been a member of Newgrounds for over 11 years, and I have watched several thousand flashes and games... yet only ever commented on three.
I hope that puts in perspective just how important your project means to me, and those like me.
I can't say that I'm a big fan of yours, or that I watched all of your videos -in fact, I only found your name about two hours ago- but this flash came highly recommended by another artist that I am very fond of, so I thought to watch through all of your "Feature Animations," in preparation for this video.
I went in with high hopes, with knife and fork in hand ready to critique and remand every damn flaw that your pieces had; as I always do. Surely, since I'd never heard of you, you had nothing important to show. Surely, I could enjoy these works in passing, and move on; unaffected as with all the others.
Instead, I found a creative mind just like my own, with a story to tell, and the inhuman drive to make those stories come to life. I found a series of artistic works so full of charm, heart, expressiveness, and focus that my frozen heart felt moved. You impressed me. You impressed ME.
and I hadn't even gotten to your opus.

I don't count myself a fan of violence. As a man born from a violent household, and a person whose heart holds a sincere overabundance of empathy, I often feel empty– repulsed and distraught –when acts of severe physical trauma are on display. This sentiment is doubled when there is no reason or justification behind it. I find it awful. Your other works were laudable, but only insofar as they are a story of relationships; survival, respect, desire, and forgiveness. I could relate to them. This; I surely could not. I expected only to see an all-out brawl of herculean proportions; something to get the adrenaline pumping, and wake the endorphin-starved, ancient primate that lives ingrained in my brain.
The last thing I expected to see was something even MORE HUMAN through this struggle of blood, and gore. I could not afford those skills I'd feel so tremendously honed in previous works interwoven so masterfully with the carefully choreographed carnage carried out clearly with worrisome will and adept affectation; attacking my mind, my heart, my history; hitting me hard at home, where I thought myself unknowable, and casting light on a sentiment so oft neglected and so blissfully forgotten.

Your flash spoke to me. You personified a sight I see, and framed a foe I fight every day just to go my way, and live as me.

I felt every pulse of the beat.

I felt the sting of every cut.

I heard the hammering of blood rushing in my ears...

and when he stared in terror at the sword,
in horror awarded for his horrible prognostication–
-this terrible imagination he created
where he tears apart his lovers, and shoves their screaming souls to hell-
in his reflection I saw myself.

I shared his sorrows, and waged his war. I swore more for the time I spent and the things I had to sacrifice that I'd never forget the price I paid to live without the doubt that I'm not good enough. I was tough. I had the stuff to pull through and eschew anxiety and depression; abandon the psychiatric session; so long to motivation medication and just pretending that it never happened– laughing all the while, and painting on a smile as guile is all I'm thinking of.

but he overcame,
and so have I.

No matter what, we both survived, and moving on, we sent them flying! He had the bog crying, and seconds from dying, decided
not to give in,
but to forgive.

So we both live– changed,
but not broken.

The scars on arms spoken a word unheard, but impossible to stoke.
Unchained from such a blissful happy-go-lucky reality we thought the world could be before, but no more defeated than matured.

You're good.
I'm awake...
and while I've taken enough time from you to read, and see what I have to say, I feel, in my own way...


I don't know how to tell you everything your video means to me.
But I have listened.
I have learned
and now,

You have my full attention.

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Credits & Info

4.62 / 5.00

Aug 20, 2017
10:18 AM EDT
  • Frontpaged August 20, 2017
  • Weekly Users' Choice August 23, 2017
  • Review Crew Pick August 23, 2017
  • Daily Feature August 21, 2017