mozzymandiam

[mozzymandiam]

pt6

Bub escorted me out to the front deck of the house. “Sorry the boss had to give you the business like that, but rules is rules,” Bub drolled with a stupid, slack-jawed look on his face. “I understand entirely. You’re absolutely right Bub: rules is rules. Lemme ask you something real quick,” I said while lighting up my pipe, “It's just you and the master here right now right? Everyone is down there at the autumn festival?” “Yup, just us. I imagine we’ll be goin down there after you skedaddle,” Bub replied. “Right, right of course, I’ll get out of y’alls hair, but say… that hat you’re wearing looks awfully nice.” “Really…? Thanks?” “You make that yourself?” “Shore did.” “Can I take a look at it? I lost mines about a day ago when riding back here.” He hands me the hat and I run my finger along its brim. Bub sure was an idiot, but man, did he make a damn good hat. “Whoa, hot-dang, that sure is a good hat,” I whistle to myself and put it on. Then I pull out my gun and shoot Bub in the face. The master let out a scream from inside the house and called, “Bub, what’s going on out there?” “Nothing much master,” I responded, “Me and Bub were just talking about renegotiating the terms of our contract and my payment.”

[mozzymandiam]

pt5

The boy dropped down to his knees and sobbed. I turned to look behind me, I hadn't realized it earlier, but there behind me was a patch of fresh dirt with a sunflower placed on top. All the kid wanted was a better life for his mother, but she was gone now. “I never did it,” he said through his sobs, “I never did it. I never got to build her that fucking house. I never got to enjoy her last moments while she was alive. How many nights did she try to talk to me but I was too exhausted working for a prize I would never enjoy? If I’d have known how much time she had left I would’ve never agreed to the master’s deal. Now all I have is…” His voice trailed off and he fell to his side. Whatever energy he had left he spent it all. I stood up and dusted off my pants and gazed into the abyss of the horizon. “You still with me kid?” He gave a weak nod of his head. I turned him over and dragged him next to the mound where he buried his mother. “I need you to do me a favor, kid,” I said to him, “Tell me about that house you would’ve built her.” “It’d be blue… Three rooms and a kitchen… One room for herself… One room for me… One room… for her plants… and books.. The room for her plants… would have.. Alot of windows… And on Sundays after we’d pray together… we’d paint…”   I pulled back the hammer on my gun, “Tell me more son.” “In the back we’d have a flower garden… And some chickens… She’d make friends in town.. And we’d invite them over for coffee… And to play cards… And my mom.. She’d say… She’d say… that she’s happy.. And that she wished dad would see it too…” “Close your eyes boy, take a deep breath,” I tell him, “Do you see it?” He closes his eyes and a tear trails down the side of his face, “Yes… it's wonderful” I pull the trigger. I dug the boy a grave next to his mother. I didn't have any flowers to leave him, so I left him my hat. I bet the thing would’ve looked better on him anyway. It was a day and a half’s ride back to the master’s town. It was the last night of the autumn festival and I caught him and one of his guards down at a packed pub enjoying the festivities. I told him the job was done and that I’d like my payment. He said he wanted proof and I told him I got it for him at his house. So myself, the master, and his bodyguard Bub traveled back to his manor for my payment. We entered the parlor and I presented him with David’s bloody shirt. He inspected the rags and looked back up to me. “Well this is clearly the handiwork of one of our seamstresses, but you were contracted by me to deliver me two corpses. Where are they?” “Well sir, that's the hard part. By the time I caught up with the boy he was on his own. Didn’t find no horse, no wagon, no body. I drew my gun and shot him. He ran, grabbed him by his shirt, but he ripped the damn thing off and jumped off a cliff to kill emself. So I regret to inform you that there are no bodies to show you.” His face twisted into a sour look and he fiddled with the button on the collar of his shirt. I went on, “Now, I do understand that there are no bodies, so I am willing to accept half of the agreed paym-” “NO you will receive nothing. NOTHING. How do I know you and that animal are not in kahoots, that he hasn't hypnotized your simple mind with the silver tongue of a devil creature?!” he shouted, “No you get nothing. Now get out of my sight.”

[mozzymandiam]

pt4

When the master saw me after my mother gave birth, he was furious. He personally beat my father and sent my mother to live among the slaves. He treated my father like a typical field worker and told him that if he didn’t harvest as much as the other slaves then he’d get beaten. Of course my father couldn't keep up because of the permanent damage to his leg, so he was beaten every day until the day he died. I was barely a year old when he passed. After my father’s death, the master invited my mother back into the house on the condition that she renounce me as her son but she wouldn’t. She wanted to stay with me. She loved me because I was the last living reminder of my father. Everynight she held me, told me she loved me and would sing to me until she fell asleep. But every time, I stayed awake knowing that if it wasn’t for me, she’d have her old life back, she’d be comfortable again. She told me that her and my dad always had plans to leave and travel west. Go to the ocean and build a house that overlooks the sunset. She told me that the horizon glitters like diamonds, the waves beat like thunder, and the wind runs like freedom. She believed that there would be a day when her and I would be free and together we’d build that house. As I got older, she became weaker. Some days she’d stay in bed all day and couldn’t even find the energy to eat. She called for my dad and would ask him, “Darrius, when are we going to see the ocean?” I told her that dad was out working the field and that we’d be free soon. I told her not to worry about that house. Her and dad can rest while I build the house with my own hands. I promised my mother that when I grew up, I’d build her that house by the ocean. Eventually the master took notice of my mother’s sickness. Doctors came to her bedside and had quiet conversations with him, saying words that I didn’t understand. I approached the master and asked him what I needed to do to earn our freedom. I told him that my mother didn't deserve to die here like this, she deserved to rest peacefully by the ocean. The master took me out back and told me what I needed to do. He showed me an empty plot of land and told me that if I could turn the whole field into farmable land, then he’d grant myself and my mom freedom as well as the materials for me to build the house all on my own. I immediately began working. I dug up weeds, chopped down trees, removed stumps and dead wood, tilled the land. I worked before sunrise and stayed long after sunset. My muscles ached, my hands bled, my feet blistered. All the days blurred into one. I closed my eyes, opened them, went back to work; closed my eyes, opened them, went back to work. I did everything I could to make that patch of land farmable. Until one day, I returned and my mother was gone. She had died. She had died long before I realized she was gone. The other slaves knew, they could smell the stench of the corpse, but I–I didn't notice. All I wanted was to earn our freedom. All I wanted was to build the house by the ocean. Maybe I knew on some level, but did not want to admit it. Maybe I just thought if I worked one more day then we could leave. But no. That was it. My reason for everything was gone. And I didn’t even get to say goodbye. The master wouldn't let me see her. He wouldn't bury her with the slaves despite making her live with us for the last half of her life. She would be buried in the family cemetery “away from all the filth” he said. The cold of autumn came, and I knew this was my chance. The festivities last for at least a week. A week of all the white folk too drunk to see straight let alone stand. I knew this was my chance. I stole the horse, stole the wagon, dug up her corpse and brought her here. And now that I’m here, I don’t know where to go. I’m off the property. I’m away from the farm. I’m at the ocean. But now that I’m here, now that I’m free. I don’t know what to do. It all seems so meaningless.

[mozzymandiam]

pt3

My mother’s name was Anette and she was the master’s daughter, and as you know, she fell in love with a slave named Darrius. When my mom was young, she was playing near the woods when a wolf attacked her. My father jumped in to save her but his leg got caught by the beast. The damn thing nearly ripped his leg off. It would’ve probably been better off that way because he was left barely able to walk. The master was ready to kill my father–a mercy kill he called it, but my mother begged him not to. He spared my father and assigned him to be her personal slave. He assumed that she’d grow to learn how useless he was because of his injury, but that wasn't the case. They grew up together and became great friends, and eventually lovers of course.

[mozzymandiam]

pt 2

I rode about an hour out of town before I came upon the horse and wagon abandoned by the edge of the road. Maybe the boy got tired and needed a rest. Maybe he bled out in the back of the wagon. I dismounted and pulled out my revolver and approached the wagon. I pulled the canvas flap back only to find nothin; nothing but dirt and bloodstains. I touched the blood and rubbed it between my fingertips, it was still fresh so he couldn’t be far from here. I stepped down from the wagon and looked out towards the coast. The rumbles and crashes of the waves echoed through the chilly air. The smell of salt tickled my nose hairs and stuck to the back of my throat. Though I was far from the water, I could still feel its mist caressing my face and soothing the hardened edges of my mind. There’s a strange power the ocean has: mesmerizing and hypnotizing. One of the most beautiful and dangerous things on this planet is the sea. She is dangerous, she is punishing, and knowing this, I and many others like me are drawn to her. With a deep breath, I break the hold she has on me and turn to my horse, but something catches my eye. The path that I stand on sits high above the cliff face, but through the reeds towards the edge something odd catches my eye: a tree. I’m no learned man, but a tree like that wouldn’t normally grow so tall and so close to the edge of the ocean like that. I am bewildered by this, and it's then that I see him; the young man I’ve been tracking, slumped against the tree trunk, gazing out upon the ocean. I make my way down through the dry grass and approach him. “You David?” I ask him. The kid is sweating bullets, the right side of his shirt covered in blood. He wrapped it to slow the bleeding, but obviously didn’t do a great job of it. “Who wants to know,” he mumbles weakly. “Holden. I was contracted by your master to hunt you down. Supposedly you stole something important,” I replied holstering my gun. No need defending myself against a dead man. “I didn’t steal nothin that didn’t belong to nobody,” he snapped, his gaze never leaving the horizon. “Gunna have to disagree with you there son. You dug up and stole a body. Graverobbin’ is a crime I deal with frequently, but I gotta admit, no ones got the balls to steal an entire body,” I approached the boy and squatted down next to him. We shared a moment of silence before I went on, “Listen, I promised your master two bodies: yours and the one you stole. And it looks like you could be checkin out any minute, so I’d like to know where the body is.” “Do you even know who she is?” his voice quivered. I looked towards the horizon and replied, “the master’s daughter.” “My mother!” he shouted. A surge of power traveled through his veins and sprang him up to his feet. I realized he gripped a shovel in his left hand, but I stayed calm, there was no way this string bean of a boy had any more strength left to lift it than to strike me with it. “She was my mother,” he sobbed and turned to the ocean once more. The waves crashed. The gulls cried. The grass danced. “Go on son,” I said to him, “In my line of work, I’ve heard many a dead man’s tale. Spotlight is on you son. Say what you wanna say.”

[mozzymandiam]

Haven't written a while, but here goes...

pt1 I come into town close to noon. I wandered into the local saloon for a drink and maybe a bite to eat. The place is empty besides the barkeep and a young woman that I assumed was his daughter. She could’ve been no older than fifteen. She greets me with a bow and continues her work while her father polishes the empty glasses he has lined up behind the bar. “Wasn’t expecting no body to come out this way on account of the festival out east,” he says without turning, “What brings you around these parts?” I mosey on over to a barstool directly behind him, take my hat off and place it on the bar, “Well, I’m a tracker–a hungry one at that–and I’m afraid that festival isn’t going to get me paid or keep my belly full.” “Sarah, fix the man up somethin’ to eat,” he grunts before turning to face me. He’s a round faced man, redder than a tomato with less hair on the top of his head than I got fingers. His mustache is thick as a brush and his chins look like they haven’t had a shave in days. He slides a coaster in front of me and asks what I’m drinkin. I order a whiskey and ask him for permission to smoke at the bar. He gives me a nod and starts pouring. “I swear, you must got the easiest job in the world,” he chuckles to himself as I raise the glass to my lips. “I beg your pardon?” I pause before I drink, my eyes narrow on this fat bartender. If I had half a mind I’d reach across the table and break this glass over his head. “No disrespect, lemme explain to ya what I mean,” he throws his towel over his shoulder and leans his doughy body closer to me, “You’re lookin’ for a black lad right? An escaped slave? He stole a horse and a wagon. Prolly did it while his master and all the folk out east were preparing for the autumn festival am I right?” I take a long drag from my pipe and blow the smoke in his face to get him to back away from me. He wheezes and coughs and steps away for a moment. At that time, his daughter came from the back with a bowl of stew and a slice of bread. She was quick, moved with her head down for the most part, but there was no hiding what I saw. Her face was covered in bruises; damn near looked like the face of a prize fighter. I placed my pipe down and begin to eat my food as his coughing fits subsided. “What do you know about the boy?” I ask as I eat. “Little taller than my girl, was wearing a cloak when I first seen him, by the time I scared him off I noticed a brand on his face. Its how I know he was an escaped slave. The horse he was riding was white with brown spots and the wagon looked like it had something hidden in the back. Couldn’t make out what it was though,” he said leaning back against the bar with his arms crossed,  “Caught my girl tryin to sneak him food for free. Must’ve been a snake tongued devil that one. Awfully light skinned to be a slave, but hey, what do I know? I’m not a rich man, can’t afford no slaves here.” “Which way did he go?” I ask as I eat. “Out west, not sure what he’s runnin to out there though, nothing but ocean and cliff faces,” he grunted, “While he was gettin away I got out my gun and winged him. Shot him and took a chunk right out of his shoulder as he rode away. It’s why I’m tellin’ ya, you got the easiest job in the world. Half the work already been done for you.” I get up from the bar and down my whiskey, “I’ll be sure to give you a cut once I get paid.” He chuckles and sees me off. I turn and smile, waving goodbye to him knowing that I’ll never see is ugly fucking face nor eat his shitty food ever again.

[mozzymandiam]

So yesterday I was drawing up some sketches for my twitch channel emotes and I decided to make a "handsome" version of my face using a coffee mug thay friend gave me for christmas. This is what I came up with

So I posted it to my discord and mentioned that there was another side to my coffee mug that looked like this:

My friend then requested that I draw myself looking like the second side of the cup and this is what I came up with:

Ngl, Im pretty proud of this. Proud enough to share on tumblr! Hope you guys enjoyed ❤️

[mozzymandiam]

Some doodles. Ft. @whatsajulian

[mozzymandiam]

[mozzymandiam]

oopsiedasies

[mozzymandiam]

Famous Fantastic Mysteries, April, 1947

[mozzymandiam]

Gokú

[mozzymandiam]

[mozzymandiam]

moving to portland was the best decision we ever made

[mozzymandiam]

Mogami Arc,, teach me how to live again

[mozzymandiam]

Any VALORANT players among my followers?

I’m not much of a fanart person, but I knew I had to make one of Neon depicting her in her hometown Manila. As you probably already know, cultural representation is very important to me, which is why I’m glad that Neon was added into the game (even if I’m not a Duelist player).

This is not only fanart for a video game, but also an expression of Filipino cultural art. How much of Manila’s architecture and other local details can you recognize?

Play it - it’s a looping animation!

(Baybayin fonts designed by Aaron Amar, Lloyd Zapanta, and myself)

[mozzymandiam]

Cyberpunk Manila: A World of Neon and Metal