I crouch over a puddle of black water. The puddle is slightly wider than my shoulders and surrounded by gray dirt. I see my reflection staring back at me and lean in. Slowly (suddenly) my face submerges in dark water. It pulls me down and I float (sink) towards the bottom. Everything is perfectly clear in the black water. My consciousness evaporates (floods) away.
Note: I probably have to pay loyalties or something for that...Today, only evil plans in comments.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
I still haven't titled this...
Jordan milled through the small house and strange faces. She was stuck here. At an engagement party. Not so much of an innovative idea as an obligation in the wedding process. As Jordan shouldered through the crowd, she couldn't help but feel like she was in some sort of surreal dream. Everyone was smiling. They were disarmingly happy and laughing. She caught sight of Inherent perched on top of the stairs, obviously avoiding the joyous horror below. Jordan was jostled into an adjacent room. Rebecca (as she preferred to be called now) and her fiancé were enjoying being showered with attention. Jordan paused to observe them. They were so deliriously happy (and probably not drugged), that she couldn’t help to think cynically.
It was never that easy for her and Max. She wasn’t usually so insecure as to compare her relationship to someone else’s, but in this case, there was no helping it. Jordan loved Max. Simple enough. But it was anything but easy. The core of their relationship, somehow, was fighting. Not against each other, usually. But fights where they're surrounded by enemies, standing back to back, are always the best for their relationship. And that wasn’t healthy. Or so everyone told her. But it worked.
A lanky pair of arms wrapped around her waist as Jordan was suddenly made aware of her surroundings.
“No need to worry,” Max whispered, “When is anything we do normal?”
Jordan leaned back against her long-term boyfriend’s chest and grinned comfortably.
A/N: Questions/comments/evil plans in the comments. My sister is majoring in military dictatorship, so it runs in the family.
It was never that easy for her and Max. She wasn’t usually so insecure as to compare her relationship to someone else’s, but in this case, there was no helping it. Jordan loved Max. Simple enough. But it was anything but easy. The core of their relationship, somehow, was fighting. Not against each other, usually. But fights where they're surrounded by enemies, standing back to back, are always the best for their relationship. And that wasn’t healthy. Or so everyone told her. But it worked.
A lanky pair of arms wrapped around her waist as Jordan was suddenly made aware of her surroundings.
“No need to worry,” Max whispered, “When is anything we do normal?”
Jordan leaned back against her long-term boyfriend’s chest and grinned comfortably.
A/N: Questions/comments/evil plans in the comments. My sister is majoring in military dictatorship, so it runs in the family.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Proper work attire
Max yawned as he palmed open the door to Jordan and Chase's P.I. office. Jordan gave him a once over before deciding which glare to give him.
What the hell are you doing? was what she decided on,
Chase snickered,
Max was wearing his usual early morning attire of sweatpants, an old college T-shirt and no shoes.
“Why do you look like a skank ho?” Jordan asked through her hologram screen,
She was not pleased. Max swept over to the edge of Jordan's desk. He kissed her on the top of her head before bending his stomach out of the way of her punch.
“But I like it when you come to work dressed like a skank ho,” he whispered to her,
Chase snickered,
Max sprinted to the safety of the back room before Jordan could throw anything damaging at him. Jordan groaned,
“That was only once!” she yelled after him.
Memories, memories
(If you're confused, see the note at the end)
Jordan's earliest memory is of her parents. It is also the only memory of her parents. They're in a kitchen, the three of them. Jordan, her arms still toddler-sized, sits on the kitchen floor, next to the large fridge. Her mother and father are at the L-shaped kitchen counter mixing pancake batter. Her father, who is undeniably Asian (Jordan thinks Chinese), is smiling at her like she just told a ridiculous joke. Her mother is blonde-haired and fair-skinned. She is holding a large green mixing bowl in her arms and wearing a white shirt with thin black stripes on it. Jordan can't remember for the life of her what her father was wearing, though.
Matt's earliest memory is of Chris and Legos. They had spent the whole day together working on one of the motorized Lego projects Chris had gotten for his birthday.
Matt ended up taking the lead where the mechanized components were considered. At the moment where his memory really starts, Matt is towered over by the ferris wheel contraption pictured on the box. Chris is standing over Matt and the ferris wheel looking like a king surveying his land. Matt feels giddy because his brother is proud.
“Little brother, you might have something going for you, here,” Chris says.
Max remembers, oddly enough, nuts. Specifically, a bowl of mixed nuts and perhaps berries. His father, sitting with his arm around him, has a matching bowl of matching nuts and perhaps berries. His father has a heavy mustache, wavy brown hair and a comic in one hand. The comic is held open and upright by his father's large hands so Max can look at the pictures while his father reads it to him. Max knows the pictures are of Spider-Man, but he can no longer remember the story written there. Now, he only remembers the shape Peter Parker's body makes as he swings from building to building, grappling Green Goblin mid-air.
A/N: I figured I should put this at the end instead of the beginning. Anyways, this was written for the prompt of "earliest memories" (in case you couldn't tell). The confusing part is that these characters are a part of one of my stories and you have no context as to who they are. Any questions/comments/evil plans can be posted in the comments :>
Jordan's earliest memory is of her parents. It is also the only memory of her parents. They're in a kitchen, the three of them. Jordan, her arms still toddler-sized, sits on the kitchen floor, next to the large fridge. Her mother and father are at the L-shaped kitchen counter mixing pancake batter. Her father, who is undeniably Asian (Jordan thinks Chinese), is smiling at her like she just told a ridiculous joke. Her mother is blonde-haired and fair-skinned. She is holding a large green mixing bowl in her arms and wearing a white shirt with thin black stripes on it. Jordan can't remember for the life of her what her father was wearing, though.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lucien remembers his younger sister. He is in the hospital with his father, also Chinese, stocky and a bit overweight. His mother is on the hospital bed with a spotted blue hospital gown. Her brown hair is stringy with sweat and her face is flushed, but smiling. His sister is in his mother's arms. Her eyes are still shut, and a tuft of black covers the crown of her head. Lucien can tell (from across the hospital room) that she looks a hell of a lot like him. He feels a spike of fondness for her before sibling rivalry kicks in.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Matt's earliest memory is of Chris and Legos. They had spent the whole day together working on one of the motorized Lego projects Chris had gotten for his birthday.
Matt ended up taking the lead where the mechanized components were considered. At the moment where his memory really starts, Matt is towered over by the ferris wheel contraption pictured on the box. Chris is standing over Matt and the ferris wheel looking like a king surveying his land. Matt feels giddy because his brother is proud.
“Little brother, you might have something going for you, here,” Chris says.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Max remembers, oddly enough, nuts. Specifically, a bowl of mixed nuts and perhaps berries. His father, sitting with his arm around him, has a matching bowl of matching nuts and perhaps berries. His father has a heavy mustache, wavy brown hair and a comic in one hand. The comic is held open and upright by his father's large hands so Max can look at the pictures while his father reads it to him. Max knows the pictures are of Spider-Man, but he can no longer remember the story written there. Now, he only remembers the shape Peter Parker's body makes as he swings from building to building, grappling Green Goblin mid-air.
A/N: I figured I should put this at the end instead of the beginning. Anyways, this was written for the prompt of "earliest memories" (in case you couldn't tell). The confusing part is that these characters are a part of one of my stories and you have no context as to who they are. Any questions/comments/evil plans can be posted in the comments :>
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Totally not a sketch
I've been writing more than drawing lately, but I think the series of stuff (and that's the technical term) I've been writing about is gonna end up as mini-comics, anyways.
Here's the first:
Here's the first:
Hospital
Most people hate hospitals. I love them.
I don't think it's the dry air or the clean floors. Though, the clean floors are very helpful because I've been so deprived of them. But it really isn't the clean floors.
You'd think that I would be sick of them by now. I've spent a weekend every month in a nursing home. My grandma on my mom's side had Alzheimer's. I hated it there. The only memory I have of her is of her strapped to her bed moaning like a zombie. I hated it there. The smell made me nauseous.
I've had maybe 4 other experiences with hospitals since then. The first, was when my cousin Andrew was born. I should note he's not a blood relative. My whole family, blood or not, was crammed into the tiny room. I was short...I mean, I still am short, but then I was kid-short instead of adult-short, and I couldn't see anything. Long story short, boring day.
The next three times were when I managed to eat eggs and got carted off to the emergency room. Even almost dying (three times) won't put me off of hospitals. Every time I'm in a hospital again, I want to spend more time there. Not that I'd ever hurt myself to get there.
I wouldn't study to get there either.
I don't think it's the dry air or the clean floors. Though, the clean floors are very helpful because I've been so deprived of them. But it really isn't the clean floors.
You'd think that I would be sick of them by now. I've spent a weekend every month in a nursing home. My grandma on my mom's side had Alzheimer's. I hated it there. The only memory I have of her is of her strapped to her bed moaning like a zombie. I hated it there. The smell made me nauseous.
I've had maybe 4 other experiences with hospitals since then. The first, was when my cousin Andrew was born. I should note he's not a blood relative. My whole family, blood or not, was crammed into the tiny room. I was short...I mean, I still am short, but then I was kid-short instead of adult-short, and I couldn't see anything. Long story short, boring day.
The next three times were when I managed to eat eggs and got carted off to the emergency room. Even almost dying (three times) won't put me off of hospitals. Every time I'm in a hospital again, I want to spend more time there. Not that I'd ever hurt myself to get there.
I wouldn't study to get there either.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Thursday, June 4, 2009
MAd WORLD part 1
Living up to my "possibly daily" caveat.
This is a comic I did for my writing class as a final project. It's about a girl who thinks her life is lame so she lives through imagination instead.
The second image is the cover :)
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