#my phone will also be entombed with me

[officalgeorgestaniel]

I feel so unwell and I can't figure out what's wrong with me. I haven't been out of the house except to babysit. One of the children was getting over croup, and I had a cough this morning but it hasn't persisted. Other than that I've had horrible body aches and a headache all day, so I was worried it could be covid or parainfluenza but I have no other symptoms?????

[blood-choke]

Hi, I have a question about mc

So, I’m still in the beginning part of chapter two (mostly because I keep pausing to read other variations of my options I choose instead of just playing the game uninterrupted lol); and I was just wondering about some things.

I’ve gone through most asks on her about V and the way she treats mc when mc doesn’t go her way and I sort of understand her aggressiveness though it’s still triggering as I’ve not really seen the good parts, cuz my mc doesn’t trust her and finds her secretive nature suspicious; but I wonder like, was mc a bad person before entombment?

Like obvi everyone isn’t black and white and has grey areas in personality, but in the beginning Val just seems so triggered (?) that mc is alive again and here again with her. She only seems chill when you pick options that align with what she wants, but outside that, she seems truly disturbed like she needs to take a breather or sth.

This also came to mind cuz of how Hana talks about us TO us. Like saying how she expected us to not be like Val and her seeming disappointed that we were similar to Val, in that scene were we discover phones for the first time. Like, is that just cuz of the choice that prompted her jealousy, or is that because of how mc was a person before?

I hope I constructed those questions well lol, but it just makes me wonder if certain ways they react towards the mc are just cuz of how they are a people or cuz of how mc was as a person. Cuz it seems like she and Val had a pretty turbulent relationship; was that due to their personalities or the times they were in? I feel like that’ll be answered as the story goes on, but yeah; I do wonder if mc’s previous personality majorly influences how H and V act towards us.

this is not solely directed at you anon but i have gotten a lot of asks that essentially boil down to "who is the Correct one in this situation" and i've been kinda vague or ignoring the messages because it goes against the whole point of the story, but i've received enough questions like this i'm just going to do a blanket response to explain what my intention is with writing this and why there will be no straight answers to most of these questions.

i'll put it under a cut because it's going to be long (and i guess if you want to avoid potential spoilers). i'm not going to get into details, mainly just the overarching themes that i'm trying to communicate through the narrative and with characters like the mc and Valentina.

first, to start, let me talk about Valentina:

Valentina is written in a very intentional way. she is meant to be erratic and hypocritical and not very nice. she is hundreds of years old, and at this point nearly the entire last century of her life was spent in a controlling, abusive relationship. she is going to be both defensive and aggressive because she's still in a lot of pain and struggling to work through it. she has trust issues, she thinks everyone is using her for her money, she is very paranoid and sensitive. she, as the kids say, needs therapy. this does not absolve her of her poor treatment of Hana and the mc currently, but i hope this explains it better. she is meant to be a polarizing and challenging character.

i've said a few times now that you are never going to know who is telling the truth about Standard, you're never going to get a moment in game where it tells you exactly who is Right or Wrong. i've written Valentina the way i have because yes, you are supposed to doubt her, but also i'm a bit astounded by how many people seem to just have no sympathy for her at all (again not directed at you anon but just in general.) while you're never going to know if it was her idea or not, if she chose Standard or not, or even really know what happened between her and Julien, the indisputable facts are that she, as a lesbian, had to marry a man out of desperation and was forced to be his wife and daughter for nearly 90 years. she is not going to be well adjusted after this. she is not going to want to talk about this. she has valid reasons for being reluctant to share the horrible things that happened to her, as well as being a little suspicious.

she is a tragic character. she is the antithesis of the "perfect victim." we will get to have a bit of a "confrontation" with her at the start of the next chapter, and i'm hopeful that this will get across exactly why Valentina is the way she is in the text.

as for her relationship with mc, it has always been a bit intense, but they did love each other genuinely before. it's why mc did what they did to end up entombed in the first place. i would blame a lot of the problems of their relationship previously on the time period they were in. it wasn't easy for either of them. like i said before, being a vampire was not a get out of jail free card. it's been hinted at but mc and Valentina were living in poor conditions until the 1910s, where they finally started getting a foothold, by trapping and killing men and with mc themself dressing up as a man. but then what happened, happened, and mc was entombed in the 1920s.

was mc a bad person? i mean they very much did murder people along with Valentina. it's up to you how you feel about that. she murders people now in the demo. she's a vampire, she doesn't really have the same ethics as we do. was she bad to Valentina? sometimes. Valentina was bad to her, too. were they "toxic"? maybe. mc doesn't remember, and honestly Valentina doesn't remember that much either.

the mc waking up with no memory, while a convenient plot device in an IF game like this, was also done intentionally. you're never going to know if the mc was really a "bad person" though playing through you can probably feel that the mc does suspect that they were - is it true, or is this an insecurity around their butchness, a fear of her own masculinity? we don't know. part of the narrative is the mc reconciling this fact, as well as understanding that either way they can choose to be better - she's been given a second chance. she does not have to be a certain way because of who she is - the parallels being drawn between her and Standard are there to acknowledge this negative view of butches as just "men lite" as well as this bioessentialist idea that masculinity = bad. but just because the mc is butch does not mean she will end up like Standard or Atlas or Julien. and those three aren't bad just because they're men, they're bad because they choose to be bad and abuse their power over marginalized people. this is something that will be expanded upon as the story progresses and mc gets more comfortable in their identity and we see more of the council, particularly Sasha and Cassius.

and now with Hana, she's never met the mc before, so she kind of has this preconceived idea of her, and you do get that comment both because she's a bit jealous but also because she's afraid of the mc's jealousy. if you're at the start of ch2 you may have not had the conversation with Hana yet, but her irritation comes from the fear that you will get jealous of her and want to shove her out, despite her close relationship with Valentina, and this being her home, too. she assumes you're asking because you're trying to "sus her out" and decide whether you're going to align as friends or enemies. she says you're like Valentina in that regard because, like we touched on, Valentina is very paranoid and jealous.

to be clear i do understand the game is early on, we're only on ch3, so i don't expect readers to be able to magically intuit exactly what i'm writing (some of the stuff about mc is impossible to know at this stage). but i cannot stress enough that everyone in this story can be considered "bad" in some way, and you're not going to get a eureka moment where everything is clarified. it's meant to be messy and confusing. i'm never going to outright say "this character is the One True Villain, and this character is the Righteous one." hopefully this does clear a few things up, though, and better helps you (and everyone else that has been asking) understand what's going on, and what the deal is with both the mc and Valentina.

[haunting-hari]

pinned post!!

hey, i’m hari (pronounced Ha-ree. if you pronounce it as ‘hairy’ i’ll maul you)

i’m now 17, and reside in unova

uhh i have a few partner pkmn. there’s maru, a lampent that i’ve known for years. she could kick your ass. a sweetheart though, and my best friend! [he/she. he’s very fem tho]

there’s jackie, a gengar. he’s pretty cool but real lazy. it’s incredibly hard to piss him off being honest. love that guy he’s like the dad I never had lol [he/him]

then rasp a trevenant. old man. great cook, VERY stubborn, really like charcuterie boards, and he knows jackie well, too. both of em are old geezers [he/him]

…and mal, a rotom. mal, to put it lightly they are an asshole/affectionate. they like stealing my phone. a bastard who regularly engages in trickery and causes problems. [they/them. rotoms don’t have gender I don’t think]

miss tye, a hatterene. she's got the typical personality of a hatterene, but she's a bit easier to enrage. This, actually is a good thing- as her tolerance to 'loud emotion' goes up signifigantly, as she deals with herself being angry, haha. [she/her]

charm, an alcremie. she's very polite, as well as naive, and a bit spunky, but she's honestly a sweetheart. i was the one to evolve her, and she’s been the happiest since. she gets along real well with maru! [she/her]

a froakie, locket!! he hatched just recently, and i love him with all my heart. he fears nothing and while sometimes shy, is just a very interesting little guy. a baby. he also happened to be a shiny. surprised me too, haha!! [he/him]

An applin, now dipplin gifted to me by my (girl)friend, arom! she likes taking naps and out of everyone I know has the biggest sweet tooth lol [she/her]

there’s tags for each of my Pokémon when they’re mentioned, and mal TRIED to be sneaky and post on my account-their posts are tagged “MAL’Z POSTZ”, as well as images are under “art” tag. miss tye also took my phone at one point, her tag is "Tye talks".

and i’m a human. so. yeah. human.

current event: None

//ooc below readmore

More will be revealed about hari and his team as time goes on!! please interact if ur a pokeblogger!!!! try to stay in character with this guy ok? lol

ooc storytelling will be tagged "hari's stories"!! they are often from askgames, but PLEASE request some if you ever get a prompt idea for this guy... you could ask about his past, present, and sometimes future!!

the current events each have tags for things related to their story! So far, we have the events “mourn the nineteenth”, “galarian imports”, “charm evolves”, “trip to alamos”, “unexpected egg”, “rebirth on the 26th”, "entombed event", and "Paldea trip". look at the tag to learn more!

there’s a tag for more serious stuff: that’s tagged as “lore”. Another lore heavy tag is “Forlorn presence”.

ofc, no generally unpleasant people, you get the drill. please send asks!!! :)

magic anons are on, too. please send asks!!!!!! this blog’s activity is mainly correlated to its interaction :)

also, small tidbit- you can do pelliper mail, but don't deliver a dusk stone. maru is gonna stay a lampent for a while because hari cant find one. so. when the time comes she'll evolve, but. yeah

[tma-entity-song-poll]

Battle of the Fear Bands B1R2: The Spiral

Slide into the void:

"Technically this song is about control (the game) but this is an incredibly spiral coded song. It has everything - the breakdown of the mind, of reality, mazes and fractals and dreams oh my."

Where is my Mind:

"A classic. Also it's on every movie soundtrack where the characters have some sort of mental trip"

Lyrics below the cut!

Slide into the void:

You hear our words, but you forget Push your fingers through the surface to the wet We wait in the stains, we build you 'til nothing remains In the name of the sound of the name

Repeat the word. Repeat the word. Repeat the word Egg cracks and the truth will emerge A copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy You are home. You remind us. Happy. Hurt

At the edge of understanding, the border of the known The breaking point of reason, where logic is dethroned Where sense is defenceless and festers on the bone You'll find entropy's offensive is rendered in the stone

As you roam through the Oldest House Home to all that you weren't told about Trapped within a labyrinth, it goes without saying That we're praying that they don't get out

Prison for the isn't, sitting hinged within a schism Of half-reflected architecture, dark unending prisms Part objective, part conjecture, partnered with tradition Where the paperwork is worshipped and the rituals are written

When the Black Rock cracks and the Firebreak ends The Director is left as the line of defence When the Trenches have fallen to forces unknown Perhaps you should answer the phone

If you can't place the pin Where patterns end and you begin Follow the Director Else you're gonna slide into the void But if the world you knew Has cracked and fallen through Go to the Projector Load another slide into the void

There's the strangest correlation observation will present In the systems we can witness and the signals they have sent These forces yet unknowable, that ripple through cement Inscrutable intrusions. Altered World Events

Where reality cracks and impacts on the next Dimensions fragment and the Astral projects On benign, undefined, archetypal objects Until Ordinary's torn up, and normal defects

In effect, what you're left with are OoPs Objects of Power, a flying TV A light that can hijack your mind as you see A safe that's encased in a shield of debris

These frequencies are frequently the key to what's perceived to be And vis-à-vis are feeding off the reaches of the mind But recently, the sequence has repeated and repeated And it leaves me with the theory that they're trying to get inside

You hear our words, but you forget Push your fingers through the surface to the wet We wait in the stains, we build you 'til nothing remains In the name of the sound of the name (How do you say "insane"?)

Repeat the word. Repeat the word. Repeat the word Egg cracks and the truth will emerge A copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy You are home. You remind us. Happy. Hurt

If you can't place the pin Where patterns end and you begin Follow the Director Else you're gonna slide into the void But should your world collapse And fall right off the maps Go to the Projector Load another slide into the void

The Director is the Bureau's one connection to the Board Obey the mighty Bakelite and file your reports Telephony in effigy must never be ignored So if you hear a ringing, you had better pull the cord

And explore the décor of the Oceanview Where the doors only open for a chosen few Check your logic at the desk, you won't need it to progress A dream is just a test to be broken through

Like the smoke entombed in the rooms of the ashtray Furniture fractals, the carpet cascades Lost in a labyrinth of lounge chairs and lampshades Wallpaper warps into infinite pathways

There's no limit to the dangers of phenomenon we keep Or the chaos that would reign should the Panopticon be breached This never-ending edifice is perched upon the precipice Since we let in the Resonance, the future's under siege

If you can't place the pin Where patterns end and you begin Follow the Director Else you're gonna slide into the void But if you see the seams Where motels meld with dreams Go to the Projector Load another slide into the void

I've analyzed the data, I've catalogued the signs Run every simulation, every sample I can find I'd give an explanation, but we haven't got the time We're drowning in the waveforms and our minds are in the tide

Of elegant malevolence, sequestered in the Resonance Nesting in the head of every denizen Tell me, is it heaven-sent? Is the Devil even relevant? When questioning the presence of dimensional intelligence?

Thresholds unfold as a door that knocks In the ticking, in the ticking, in the ticking of the clocks We are holding the key, we just don't see the locks Paradise and parasite, in parallel, in paradox

We stand on a mantle where matter divides To abstractive fractures that tangle and writhe Through cracks in reality, trapped in a slide Such intangible sanctuary Hedron provides

Breaking the first, the second, the third The fourth wall, fifth wall, no floor, you fall Earworm humming in a dream Baby, baby, baby, yeah. Just plastic

You want to listen You want to dream You want to smile You want to hurt You don't want to be

You want to listen You want to dream You want to smile You want to hurt You don't want to be

If you can't place the pin Where patterns end and you begin Follow the Director Else you're gonna slide into the void But should your towers fall Free your mind and heed the call Go to the Projector Load another slide into the void.

Where is my Mind:

Ooh Stop

With your feet on the air And your head on the ground Try this trick and spin it, yeah Your head will collapse If there's nothing in it And you'll ask yourself

Where is my mind? Where is my mind? Where is my mind?

Way out in the water, see it swimmin'

I was swimmin' in the Caribbean Animals were hidin' behind the rocks Except the little fish, bumped into me I swear he was trying to talk to me, koi-koi

Where is my mind? Where is my mind? Where is my mind?

Way out in the water, see it swimmin'

With your feet on the air And your head on the ground Try this trick and spin it, yeah Your head will collapse If there's nothing in it And you'll ask yourself

Where is my mind? Where is my mind? Where is my mind?

Way out in the water, see it swimmin'

With your feet on the air And your head on the ground Try this trick and spin it, yeah

[a-mag-a-day]

MAG 92 - baking apple pie

HOLD ON! Is that operator and Chief Inspector Hannah "Laura Popham/Jane Prentiss/Rosie Zampano" Brankin and the officer on the phone Alexander J"ared Hopworth/Martin Blackwood" Newall??? The operator sounds fairly clearly and the officer just sounds like Alex disguising his voice to sound deeper (or it's just edited like with Jared). Not so sure about the Chief Inspector. It lists both of them as additional voices, so it's possible?

"My dear Jonah" - ¬‿¬

"I know that what is done by those I cannot see might be felt here" - clever, using a place of Beholding to uncover those turned invisible by the fog. So… Did Barnabas know what the Institute was? What Jonah could do?

ELIAS "No, it was because he was curious. Because he had to know, to watch and see it all. That’s what this place is, John, never forget it. You may believe yourself to have friends, to have confidantes, but in the end, all they are is something for you to watch, to know, and ultimately to discard. This, at least, Gertrude understood." - Jon did better! Jon tried to help and save every single one of them! And in the end, exactly this was his doom to become the Archive. Gertrude did let all her assistants die, let others do the dirty and deadly work, which prevented her to get marked be all the fears.

MARTIN "Uh, sorry to interrupt, er, J-Jon’s here!" - Awww, he sounds so happy about this!

ELIAS "Goodness, Jon. Whatever happened to your hand? And your neck?" - Letting us know that the blunt knife did actually do some damage. Also Elias sounds so bored here. I mean, of course he Knew what happened, but usually he puts in a bit more effort to sound surprised or concerned.

JON [Chuckles] "I’ve had a hell of a week." - Yeah you did. On this day Jon got marked by the Vast and the Hunt. And just 4 days ago he got marked by the Desolation. (It is a Friday btw. and he met Jude on Monday.)

DAISY "Before I strangle the grinning bastard." - Letting us know, that Elias finds this whole situation amusing…

Oh yes, the static's pretty loud when Jon consciously compels someone.

Even though Elias sounds amused about the feeling of the compulsion, he also sounds like it takes a bit of effort to resist it.

ELIAS "There’s so much of this place, of ourselves, twisted by forces far beyond us. I just wanted you to know –" - Okay, was he about to talk about the Web? Since he wanted the others to know that he was not controlled and acted of his own free will. And conveniently in this moment Martin retrieved the others and interrupts him! Another Web!Martin moment!

BASIRA "Ah… Oh, god! And you killed him? You sure we shouldn’t be giving him a medal?" - Lol. Nobody liked Leitner xD At least his reputation.

God, the others finding out what really happened to Sasha… Martin and Tim I mean, I guess Jon already told Melanie.

ELIAS "Precisely. It finally tried to kill John. Then Leitner killed it. Then I killed Leitner." - THIS is a huge clue that Elias can't see what happens inside the tunnels! He couldn't see what actually happened to the Not!Them and he also couldn't hear Leitner (because of his A Disapprearance tho) when he told Jon that he entombed it.

Ben makes such a good villain! That chuckle when he phone rings!

ELIAS "No, there are plenty of other rabid dogs out there, mad with the hunt." - Smirke'ian name of the Hunt first time drop!

Martin doubting the police would do something like this reminds me of that The Fresh Prince of Bel Air's episode where Carlton thinks the police was only "doing their job" when they stopped him and Will and threw them in jail. That naiveté of disbelief that people wouldn't take advantage of their power.

ELIAS "Basira is now tied to the Institute. All of you are. Like fingers on a hand. And I am the beating heart of it. Should I, or the Institute, be destroyed, you will all, unfortunately, follow suit." - When I was first listening to this I stormed out of the kitchen to the group of friends staying at our place (because we would go on vacation together the next day) and babbled something incoherent to them about OMG THEY CAN'T LEAVE OR THEY'LL ALL DIE!!!

ELIAS "To offer some congratulations. You’re doing a lot better than I expected." JON "Feels like all I’ve managed to do is… not die." ELIAS "And believe me, that is a remarkably rare skill." - It's kind of true. All Elias needed was for Jon not to die. Yet.

ELIAS "The easily-digestible sort that wipe away any doubt and fear, and neatly organise your new world into happy little" - DOORBELLS!

ELIAS "These are things you must discover on your own." - This and with his explanation of Leitner "Telling Jon too much too soon!!!" I thought was a bad excuse. Turns out later, it was and it was intended! It was just an excuse to get Jon marked. Something I first considered lazy writing suddenly turned into brilliant writing!

ELIAS "Precisely. It is your job to chronicle these things, to experience them, whether first-hand or through the eyes of others" - Jon theater-kid explanation.

JON "I never chose this." ELIAS "You never wanted this, no. But I’m afraid you absolutely did choose it. In a hundred ways, at a hundred thresholds, you pressed on. You sought knowledge relentlessly, and you always chose to see. Our world is made of choices, John, and very rarely do we truly know what any of them mean, but we make them nonetheless." - Elias kinda gaslighting Jon here? How can it be choice if we don't know, what it means. When we don't even know there was a choice. That's kind of a philosophical question here that everyone can see differently… Also door motif!

ELIAS "I could. But I believe that if I did so, you would fail. The Stranger is antithetical to us. We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much. What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown. If you are to stop them, you need to get better at seeing." - Ok that one actually does make sense. But I believe that in this instance Elias was also genuine and not making excuses to get Jon marked. Not directly at least. He needs him to survive death.

The explanation of the Unknowing, what it is and does was also pretty mind-blowing for me the first time listening.

Jon lingering to ask if he's still human is so sad…

Even though Elias does sound like an absolute villain, grooming Jon into horrible things, I was still not entirely convinced Elias is the super bad when I was first listening. He does want to stop the Unknowing after all.

Elias' ambiguous villainy and obvious asshole-ness was performed so well in this episode

[jofdiamonds]

The party was coming up.

And that meant, Aki would finally be reunited with his wife.

Airi.

The love of his life, the woman of his dreams. They said that good things came in small packages, but when it came to Airi, that wasn’t true. Whatever beauty was in this world was contained in 1.75 meters of silky skin, honey-blonde hair, full lips that remained rosy even after vampirism had stilled the blood running through their veins and eyes that made you feel as if you were wandering into an abyss, into the unknown. Oh, how his heart ached for her, even if they had been already married for two centuries, and had merely spent a few months apart. Oh, how he desired her, her company, her presence.

Something as simple as her footsteps in a different room. Her voice as she talked on the phone. The excitement of knowing he could make a turn and come across her, bump right into her, kiss her and show her his devotion in any way he deemed… 

Now, distance separated them. And it was not a tangible thing, not something he could fight with claws and fangs or a sword or, even using words. He just had to wait.

And, as he waited, he composed a song.

He did that, often, when they were apart. So that his voice would reach her ears (no matter how much he changed his register, she always knew it was him) and she would feel loved. Anywhere she went. Every day that passed.

It wasn’t a matter of jealousy, of claiming property. Aki knew Airi could caress other skin, kiss other lips, and yet, she wouldn’t feel what they felt when they were together. It was otherworldly. And they had this for eternity.

The song that was all over social media right now was called Vampire Heart. In allusion to what they both were; vampires, creatures of the night (but most people listened to it thinking it was nothing but a term to define immortal love). Airi for three hundred years more than him. Age difference would have bothered him back when he had been a human. Now, time was meaningless, vampirism not a curse but a blessing, that had allowed them to be together whereas, if they had led human lives, they would have died without even knowing about each other.

He was sure he would have gone to museums. Seen her face in art. Felt a deep longing. But nothing else, nothing more.

And now, however, he could sing her beautiful words, waiting for her return…

Let me bleed you this song of my heart deformed Lead you along this path in the dark Where I belong until I feel your warmth

Hold me like you held on to life When all fears came alive and entombed me Love me like you loved the sun Scorching the blood in my vampire heart

(...)

Let me weep you this poem as heaven's gates close Paint you my soul scarred and alone Waiting for your kiss to take me back home *

It was since Aki had met Airi that the word love had taken a completely different meaning.

It was since then that he had started to believe in its power, in its strength, in its significance. It was more than obvious for any empaths. They could not look at Airi and him, or at Andrómeda and Laszlo, without realizing the deep bond that they shared, the invisible string that pulled them together. And now, that was also the case for Vessel and Cassiopeia.

The way he caressed her hair, delicately, as if she could disappear from his arms any second, as if he couldn't believe that he was so lucky to have her in front of him. It was different, but perhaps, also quite similar, to the way he had contemplated Airi for an entire day after they had shared their first night together, afraid that if he would close his eyes –if only for a minute, just to rest his tired eyelids– she would vanish into thin air. 

Aki didn't think too much about his mother. Not because he didn't love her; quite the opposite. It was because her memory was too painful. A prostitute, he had been raised sneaking in and out of a somewhat fancy whorehouse that claimed to have the prettiest women from all around the world. Exotic ladies brought from places that most men attending the place hadn't even heard about. Asia, India, America…

His mother was a fan favorite. One of the most gorgeous women Aki had ever seen and would ever see. Luscious, straight black hair, so long it reached her lower back, an oval face with slanted eyes. Full lips, high cheekbones. An intelligent woman, who knew her worth, even if most people didn't and liked to play mahjong as a way to pass time. 

'One day you will find someone who will redefine the entire world for you. She, or he, will make you feel like your five senses were numbed for your whole life. Foods will taste better, the colors will seem brighter. Smells will be richer. You will find meanings in songs you would have never considered, you will notice feelings that were hiding in melodies. Their skin will feel like the softest fabric and the only thing to bring you comfort…' she had said, before putting him to bed, laying beside him.

He had been in his early fifties when he had finally met Airi. Fifty-seven when his mother had died, He had offered her the gift of immortality many times after turning, but she had rejected it time and time again. 

There's nothing for me after this, my son. No hope for other love, no need, either; everything I ever wanted to find I found it in you. Live for me. Love for me. Spend your days and nights devoted to those that make you feel alive, even if you are part of the undead. Don't be afraid. And always carry me in your memory.  He was just glad Airi had been able to meet her. It had felt like a ritual, when the wrinkled hand, full of brown patches due to old age, had closed against the pristine, intact, delicate one of his then soon-to-be wife. How his mother's dark eyes had looked into those of the blonde psychic vampire and the older woman had simply smiled and nodded, as if saying take good care of him.

[cryptidsurveys]

Monday, November 11th, 2024.

who will you be with saturday night? My dad and my kitties.

what woke you up this morning? Nothing in particular. Just my circadian rhythm, I suppose.

if you took a drug test would you pass it? Yeah.

is tomorrow going to be a good night? Tomorrow is my "Friday," so it should be extra relaxing knowing I have two days off ahead of me.

did you kiss or hug anyone today? No.

who was the last person you rode in a car with? My dad. He drove me to/from the shelter yesterday because my windshield was entombed in ice-like snow. Impossible to scrape off.

how many myspace accounts do you have? None. In the past, I had main accounts and then accounts I would use for roleplaying.

what was your first thought this morning? Probably something about how tired I was. I didn't sleep very well last night, and I went through my day in something of a daze.

do or did you like school? Nooo. I don't know why, though. I was a good student (until high school hospitalizations/absences messed that all up). Most of my teachers liked me. I was never really bullied. I was just kind of there.

where would you like to live? I've been watching YouTube shorts about a woman who lives with her partner in Longyearbyen and I'm just like…why can't that be meeeee. D; It's PERFECT.

do long distance relationships work? I'm sure they do for some people. I might be okay with long distance temporarily, but not as an ongoing thing without any concrete plans to live together eventually.

what do you want to be when you grow up? Fully self-actualized!

where do you see yourself in 5 years? Cattery lead. Possibly living in my own apartment. Hopefully recovered from my eating disorder/other mental health issues. I would also love to have a strong social circle and maybe even a romantic partner if I'm ready for such a thing.

who do you wish you were with right now? I'm happy to be at home. I've had enough socialization for the day and like I said above, I'm sleepy.

if you had one whole day to yourself, what would you do? Lounge around and listen to YouTube, take surveys, make art, maybe do some housecleaning if I felt up to it.

is anything bothering you? I don't know how to tactfully remain apart from gossipy things without drawing unwanted negativity, but I seriously do not want a repeat of the Alex situation. I think Liv and Riley would understand, but I'm not so sure Kristen and River would. Ughhh. Why can't things just be simple? The job would be so easy and chill if not for all the unpredictable social dynamics.

do you miss someone? In some ways.

what do you want to do right now? Finish this up, eat a snack, and mindlessly scroll through some YouTube comments.

are you listening to music right now? I'm not.

are you in a good mood? It could be better, but it's not terrible.

what are you doing this weekend? Working.

are you talking to anyone while doing this? No. I can't talk and take surveys at the same time. It's too distracting.

when were you the saddest in your life? 2010 up until the last year or two. I wasn't constantly miserable, but those were some incredibly hard years. I'm glad I made it out alive.

do you own more than one cell phone? No.

do you use ebay to buy or sell? I've purchased things from ebay before, but I've never sold anything.

have you ever had a song written about you? No.

have you ever sang in public? Yeah.

what do you like to listen to before you go to bed? Things like Lights Out Library, ASMR Historian, French Whisperer, Space Matters, History Of The Earth/Universe, SEA, etc.

do you have a job? I've answered this so many times.

what does your ipod have in it right now? I don't have an iPod.

have you ever loved someone and were too scared to tell them? No.

next concert? No idea.

[thebandcampdiaries]

An interview with Nic Nassuet

We had the opportunity to ask singer-songwriter Nic Nassuet a few question. Keep reading, as he explores his unique way to combine punk with folk and dark aesthetics!

“Your music has been described as a unique blend of dark and haunting aesthetics combined with folk roots. How did you come up with this distinctive style, and what inspires you to create such genreblending music?” Great question.  The short answer is that I didn’t come up with anything.  I didn’t even know that I could write music, but sometimes things show up in my head and emit this almost inaudible neonatal cry to come into being.  I hear songs in my dreams, mostly, but I also hear them throughout the day at random.  I have to stop and hum them into my phone then figure out what instruments they are and how to play them later.

“She Rides Moonlight” is a good example.  I had never even touched a mandolin before but ordered one because that’s what the voice said to do.  When it arrived it was in tune and “She Rides Moonlight” immediately came out of my hands as I unboxed it.  That’s what the music wanted.  It needed a mandolin to make that song come through me even though I don’t know the first thing about the instrument.  I don’t know where it comes from.  Sometimes it can remain silent for years.  Those can be dark years… “Could you tell us about the creative process behind your track 'Pact'? What motivated you to explore its particular theme?” Pact just fell out of the guitar one afternoon, and the lyrics flowed from there.  During that period lots of things were coming to me.  I don’t believe in ghosts, and I don’t disbelieve in them either, but I was sitting on the bed one day doing something on my laptop and a presence, as clear as sunlight, showed up and started singing her story in my head.  I wrote down what she sang about being entombed in a stone wall on her wedding day as her mother leapt into the sea out of grief, then I went to the guitar and immediately found the chords.�� I’ve never played those chords before.  I wouldn’t know how to find them if you paid me to.  I don’t know notes and chords.  That song was “Immured” and it did really well.  I hope to re-record and re-release it pretty soon.  I have some great Grammy nominated string musicians on board. Pact wasn’t as clear a presence, it was sort of like catching scents in the air.  You sit there, and the sounds appear in your mind, and if you relax your critical ear and just accept that it is happening, and listen in a relaxed state, those sounds form words and then you realize the theme of the piece.  Sometimes it is a real surprise to me.  I can’t sit down and say “I’m going to write a song about this topic,” and have it work.  Every single time I have done that it has been just awful.  I wish I could do that, like composers do.  “Your covers of Misfits classics, like 'Die Die My Darling,' showcase a fusion of punk and folk influences. How did you discover your interest for both genres?-

I’ve always loved the sound of acoustic guitar.  My mother used to play and sing for me as a child, and I wanted to be able to do that, too.  I’ve never been into folk music, to be honest.  I love some of what I hear in that genre, it just isn’t what I put on my playlists.  I found my love for punk as a pre-teen.  I hated school, and teachers, and the entire concept of being “moulded” by this hallucination called “society” into what someone else thought it was best for me to be.  Punk was irreverent back then.  The Misfits were especially irreverent.  These were themes that I would have been grounded or suspended for discussing at home or in school, yet they were singing them loudly and it sounded like damn good rock and roll!  I was hooked.  I guess that when you have an angry anti-conformist heart, and an acoustic guitar, this is sort of the end result, LOL. “Your vocals in 'Pact' carry a strong storytelling quality, akin to folk and blues traditions. When writing songs like this, do you come up with the music first or do the lyrics come first?- Thank you.  The music almost always arrives first.  I hear that, then sometimes I get other parts or pieces of the song later, sometimes months later.  Often some vowel sounds, or a phrase of a chorus will come through on the music and then the lyrics kind of build themselves around that. “The connection between 'Pact' and the old House of Blues on Sunset Strip, along with Robert Johnson's legend, is intriguing. Could you delve deeper into the significance of this connection and how it influenced the creation of the song?"- If it had influence over the creation of the song, I don’t know that I should really be talking about it. I didn’t know that the house of blues was made from steel taken from the intersection where Robert Johnson sold his soul.  I didn’t even know who Robert Johnson was..  Pact had come to me a few days before that first show at the House of Blues and I was hoping to premiere it to its first audience somewhere cool.  We were invited to play in the foundation room at the House of Blues, which was a private club that cost thousands a year to be a member of.  I had been there once before on invitation of the owner back when I was an 18 year old private investigator and it was wall to wall celebrities back then.  I was excited to return as a musician.  It felt really meaningful. I didn’t know that it was the opening night of the Sunset Strip Music Festival, or that the House of Blues was the opening venue for the Festival, so we were surrounded by big names doing professional things and it all came as a total surprise.

Out in front there was a sign that said “This House of Blues is made from steel taken from the intersection where Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil,” or something like that. I took a picture of it that I’ll send to you.  The sign, and building are gone now. I had come prepared with a song about soul selling at the crossroads, and that song carries instructions in the Hoodoo tradition if you listen closely to the lyrics.  The instructions in the song “Pact” are to take a song with you to the crossroads as an offering to make the deal, and unbeknownst to me I had arrived at the most infamous crossroads in music history on the most devil beloved street in rock music history along with my song-gift.  I guess it was prophetic in a way. After that show we ended up taking our first red carpet pictures right where all the big names had been.  Over the next few months my dear friend, who was a guitar tech to the biggest names in the industry, said “I’ve never seen any indie artist blow up as big as you did after your first release.” Do you have any plan to tour in support of this release?

I didn’t have any plans for it, but it looks like something is brewing.  I’ve got a release party for “Pact” at this awesome spot in Topeka, Kansas called “Two Wolves”.  It’s a really groovy art collective that attracts some ridiculously talented musicians.  We’re going to throw a fun early Halloween party and bring in some special guests.  I was invited to perform at a benefit on October 27th, the Friday before Halloween, and I’m completely blown away by the fact that I just found out that I’m playing a gig with the former singer of the Misfits next month.  I haven’t played a show since the Pig and Whistle on Hollywood Boulevard the night before the pandemic shut down all of the venues for a couple of years, so it’s a bit overwhelming.  I guess that the music wants a tour and wherever the music leads I have no choice but to follow.  Everything collapses and degrades when I ignore the voice, and it seems as though every impossible wish is granted when I listen to it.

Thanks so much for your time and for listening.  You do great work.

https://www.instagram.com/nicnassuet/?hl=en

[leam1983]

Transitions

So. As I eluded to in my previous post, things are shaping up, apartment-wise. The loft we'd initially eyed isn't in the cards, but I used my two weeks to snoop around with Walt. We found ourself a quasi-penthouse-grade apartment a few streets away from the one we'd looked at, and made an offer. Split between the three of us, we're looking at about one thou a month. We'd put all our expenses on the same account and just divvy up bills as per our responsibilities. I've taken everything related to cable access, power and phone plans, Sarah will handle groceries and everything associated with basic upkeep costs, and Walt is the defacto rent-payer after we'll have forwarded him our shares.

It's interesting, honestly. Not giving an address, obviously, but I'll be in a corner of town that used to house a hospital, that was quickly industrialized in the fifties and that is now again beginning to house residential developments like mine. It'll put us about twenty minutes by car from the Gay Quarter, and maybe half an hour from the most remote of the dealerships we directly interface with. Full concrete floors and ceilings, concrete partitions between units - and the common areas were as quiet as a tomb. There's an interior yard accessible to all tenants, fully furnished and ready.

The one downside? There's something like an HOA involved. It's extraordinarily lax, in that typically Montreal-based way local HOAs tend to be, and the only real rule they have in place involves no barbecues being allowed in the common yard. We have small balconies, with three rooms and two of them having balcony access, with the right to smoke on the street-facing one. Still, it does mean that we're likely to have one or two bourgeois or Karen-grade neighbours.

Otherwise, the perks I can expect include a keyfob-operated elevator, an interior gym and a fully-furnished waiting area, for when I'll need to take the paratransport. There's a YMCA two bus stops away, so going out for swims remains possible. Walt's car gets a closed garage, which is also accessible by elevator. Zero steps whatsoever.

I'll definitely miss the Quarter's neighbourly feel, though. We knew our grocers by their first names, we were on good terms with everyone, safe for the bigger family I mentioned earlier this summer, and we were mostly shielded from homophobia by virtue of living in a corner of town where there's probably one Rainbow sign every two or three front doors. We're headed back into Straightsville, so to speak - but this is still Montreal. As in, it's still an extremely open-minded environment, just with its occasional homophobes fishing for attention. No biggie, overall.

I remember the look Walt sent me once he realized we'd be effectively entombed in concrete. The look started with vague surprise, followed by realization - and his hooking my hand at his elbow, unprompted.

He'd figured it out. Wall-to-wall concrete means that while we won't get the benefits of being at the top of the building, we'll have stellar sound insulation. Considering how one of our neighbours supposedly plays her Casio keyboard at Fake Pipe Organ settings at full volume at all hours of the day and night and nobody's apparently complained, that means we can expect to be able to let loose on Friday afternoons even louder than we already do, without inconveniencing anyone...

I remember giving Walt a look once we'd returned to his car.

"You dog," I teased him, "I know exactly what you thought about when the landlord brought up the unit separations."

He'd shrugged. "I might be gay, I'm still just a man. Can't blame me if my brain drops down between my legs on occasion."

I'll concede to being a little worried, though. My current landlords are my parents, this'll be the first time I won't have even the slightest bit of housing-related preferrential treatment. I mean, safe for the fact that the landlord told me he'd get the unit's bathroom all prepped up for me before our arrival - by which they meant they'd just screw in one basic support bar and redo a few squares of the bath's tiling, as required by said bar.

We'd headed to the restaurant last Thursday, to celebrate, and Sarah had parted with a mean chuckle while toasting us. "With zero thanks to Provincial disability aid programs!"

Honestly, fuck 'em. Last I checked, they'd lumped me in with coke-heads and vagrants looking for a way off the street, somewhere fast, noisy, cramped and cheap. If I ever take to hard drugs, I'll know exactly where to look...

[seat-safety-switch]

Being afraid of nuclear annihilation may seem like a charmingly retro obsession from a bygone era, but I’m here to tell you that it most certainly is not. Why? Because I managed to get a C3 Corvette loaded up with one of those prototype small modular reactors. One of the egghead companies up at the startup incubator went bust and just left it out by the dumpster. I can’t believe they would be so careless as to only protect it by entombing it under several feet of concrete, with a group of rent-a-cops standing guard, in the loading dock waiting for the EPA to come and pick it up for destruction.

It took me a really long time to chisel it loose, and I had to be very cautious of not making too much noise when I yanked it home with a stolen U-Haul trailer, but I now have a fully-functional Westinghouse SMR ratchet-strapped to the top of my car. No more paying for gasoline, and certainly no range anxiety, either! Sure, I can’t pull more than about 200 MW out of it without blowing a hole in the containment vessel, but one of these ‘Vettes will shake itself apart anywhere north of 180km/h, so I’m not too worried.

Now, of course, according to the service manual that I downloaded from the internet, you are supposed to have several acres of empty clearance around it during normal function. Cooling or something, I bet. It’s also definitely not designed for the level of vibration that it sees when attached to a fibreglass-and-dreams grand touring coupe that spends most of its time off-road, running from EPA goons.

The real benefit of all this is not the horsepower. Any moron can pick up a truck engine from the Pick And/Or Pull, strap an eBay turbo to it, and be running moon-mission levels of torque by teatime. No, the really nice thing is that finally I can charge my phone off the cigarette lighter without the headlights dimming. Sometimes I don’t even need the headlights, what with all this eerie blue glow.

[seriouslysam8]

Just wondering how you come with those dreadful characters like Reed and Greengrass…after this sneak peak I almost punch my iPad!

Greed, corruption, and being power hungry. I feel like anyone could be tempted to a darker side under the right conditions. Makes me want to go back and read Entombed, Kalopsia, and Brontide and see a more innocent Reed before he became dirty.

Also, I take no responsibility for any broken tablets, phones, or computers when the next chapter is released. That’s just the tip of the iceberg for the chapter.

[heli0s-writes]

DEADCRUSH

Summary: Deadcrush, a game played based on the question “what historical figure would I want to take on a date if they were alive today?”

A/N: 4k word count because I can’t be brief about anything. Also mentions age difference, and questionable internet humor. Also now with Part 2! Oh my god and Part 3!

Bag of Tricks One-Shots Masterlist

It’s in the middle of receiving a blow to his jaw when Bucky hears your voice whistle through the air above him.

“No way!” You’re yelling, “That’s sick, Peter!”

He glances up for half a second to see you swinging against the New York backdrop, left hand raised and entombed by a thick knot of webbing from Parker who’s launching you and himself across the skyline. Bucky dodges another fist and by the time he’s knocked out the thug trying to get fresh with him, you’ve already finished your trajectory and bowled over a cluster of bodies. The ground’s cracked where you made your descent in the distance, and Parker lands softly next to you.

“Come on!” He cries, pitch rising, “You picked Rasputin!”

You respond with a maniacal giggle. “He’s Russia’s greatest love machine!” With a flick of your wrist, you condescendingly scoff. “Dude, Anne Frank? She was twelve.”

“Rasputin was like a million! And insane! Anne Frank is close to my age, at least. And this is entirely hypothetical—I'm imagining a future with her where she’s older than me. I think we’d totally get along, I read her diary and everything- I mean, we’re so close! Fine--” Parker crosses his arms.

“Marie Curie.”

Your eyes catch Bucky looking and you give him a wide smile and a small wave before you pivot back to Peter. Bucky’s brow furrows even deeper before he turns and heads towards Steve who’s winding down at the end of his own fight. Kids are fucking weird, he thinks a little bitterly, as you and Parker squabble on in the distance.

-

In the middle of dinner, as he’s twisting a ream of spaghetti onto his fork, you and Parker stand on the balcony eating what looks like a whole baguette smeared with jelly. Through the glass door, Parker crunches into it before handing the baguette off to you. He’s gesturing wildly and brushing crumbs off his suit.

You take a bite too large for your mouth and the crust crumbles down your chin, chased by a dribble of jelly. You level your palm and start measuring Peter’s height much to his indignance, and Bucky has to turn around before he loses his appetite completely. He hears your laughter muffled through the door. Your hand is clasped on Parker’s shoulder in an attempt to hold yourself up.

You’re a funny one. Always joking and cheerful. You’ve been a part of the team for the past six months and you’re closest to Parker both in demeanor and in age, but sometimes Bucky finds you up late at night and the two of you sit at the table over a cup of tea.

You show him inexplicable and strange images from your phone and try your best to explain to him why the frog is on the unicycle and what the hell “yeet” actually means. Once, you showed him a video about twerking but when you jokingly proposed that you might teach him instead, he nearly knocked the table over by jerking up, ready to take off.

It always ends with joyful tears in the corners of your eyes.

It makes him a little bit angry with himself because he really has no right to even be talking to you. Cryrosleep aside, he’s almost old enough to be your father. But when your laughter lights up the room, it burns those harsh thoughts from his brain.

He’d never admit it, but when he’s awake after tossing for hours, he hopes you’re in the kitchen.

The door swings open and in-between mouthfuls, Parker is baffled, “Who is that?”

“Ancient poet.” You answer, popping a finger in your mouth, “My girl! Island of Lesbos. She definitely knew how to...” You waggle your eyebrows, make a V-shape with your fingers, and lewdly run your tongue up and down between them. Bucky thinks he sees you looking at him, but he feels himself flushing at your comment and pretends like he’s enthralled with spaghetti.

“Dude. Stop it.” Peter moans.

-

In the middle of movie night, another showing of Mary Poppins, you and Parker once again tuck away into the corner of the Stark auditorium with a shared blanket and chatter vehemently. Bucky doesn’t know which is more irritating—Van Dyke’s terrible accent, or the fact that the two of you are attached by the hip today.

“Marilyn Monroe!” Parker whispers.

From the corner of his eye, Bucky watches you contemplate your reply before leaning in impossibly close to Peter. The young man’s jaw clenches as his eyes widen like saucers. He shoots Bucky a look, as if catching him eavesdropping.

“What!?” Peter shrieks.

The entire room turns to look at the two of you. You clamp your hand over Peter’s mouth, bury your face into the side of his head.

“That’s the safest one!” You say.

“No! No, it’s definitely not safe!” He responds back, voice cracking slightly and pushing your face away when your hair tickles him. “Gettoffa— God! Are you serious!?”

“Okay, what the hell is this conversation?” Natasha pauses the movie and leans over the back of the recliner.

Peter pulls the cover over his face and you start giggling again.

“We’re talking about our DC’s.” You finally admit, pausing enough to calm yourself.

“DC’s?” Steve questions.

“Dead crushes.” There it is again- that little look you send his way. He thinks three times is at least one too many to be just a dream.

“Dead-what-now?” Sam is incredulous.

“You guys have never played this game before? You know, pick one person from history who you’d take out to dinner if circumstances made it possible.”

Peter pokes his head out, “And look, please tell her that all of my choices are perfectly reasonable! Anne Frank? Marilyn Monroe? Marie Curie? She picked Rasputin! And not because of that weird old song.”

You scoff because Boney M is a fine example of industry-bottled pop music and beat Milli Vanilli as the façade of genuine artistry by miles.

“Rasputin’s a bit dark, isn’t he?” Steve shakes his head.

Sticking your tongue out at him, you land your gaze on Natasha with a sly smirk.

“Who would you pick, sexy international Russian spy? Let’s get a peek into that gorgeous red head of yours.” She licks her lips at your overt flirtation and flips her hair over her shoulder.

Bucky folds his arms over his chest and leans back into the chair he’s on. This was your game—saddling up to people with effortless compliments and humor, reading a personality so well and maneuvering yourself to fit just right into their expectations. Who else could be so forward with Natasha, joking or otherwise? Who else would suggest teaching him how to twerk? Fuck.

Natasha mulls the question over for a second, “Stalin. I’d take him to dinner. And then to his grave.”

There’s an exasperated sound that escapes your lips. “Okay, that’s not really how the game works. This is not supposed to be a political commentary- it's a genuine display of … attraction!”

“To corpses.” Bucky mutters.

“Okay, that’s dark.” You and Peter exhale in unison. The giggles that escape both of you as you start calling “jinx” on each other before wrestling on that tiny fucking sofa chair makes him bite back a growl. From the couch to his left, Steve notices.

-

In the middle of pouring scalding water into a plain white mug, Bucky feels a tap on his shoulder.

“No.” He greets the finger. “Nope. Steve. Goodnight, jerk.”

“You’re actin’ like a kid, Buck.”

Bucky huffs as he sets the kettle back down with a clatter on the stovetop.

“No.” The problem is that I’m not the kid, Bucky scolds himself for even having the thought surface.

Steve half-heartedly sighs because Bucky is so smitten it’s almost painful to watch. It’s obvious to him and the rest of the team that the two of you dance around each other under the pretense of professionalism, but he knows that the laughter coming from down the hallway late at night is more meaningful than a work relationship.

The first time Steve had seen Bucky lean into a friendly touch was when you had placed your hand on his back, steadying yourself as you fixed your shoe. It was such an offhanded gesture, and Bucky tensed briefly before holding out his arm for you. You didn’t realize his intention and took his entire vibranium hand with a firm squeeze before waltzing off, leaving him to gaze after your disappearing trail. That was three weeks into Bucky’s time at the compound, and your fourth month. It opened Steve’s eyes to a possibility he hadn’t yet entertained.

Steve thinks part of how easily you had infiltrated Bucky’s stonewall demeanor is, in fact, your age. You were right on the cusp of balancing maturity and immaturity, often teetering into the immature waters out of habit. You stayed up late for no reason, played video games for hours, ate all sorts of odd meals with no care for your health, and always gladly shared anything that made you smile. It was infectious. You lacked the exact type of self-awareness everyone else had that made them so careful with Buck— and he let you slip through the cracks effortlessly.

It’s your childlike happiness that’s done it for Bucky. Even though it’s now become a point of uneasiness for his friend, Steve is thankful that you’re exactly how old you are. It’s helped him more than harmed him so far.

Bucky takes a sip of his peppermint and lemon tea and leans against the counter. Steve watches with amusement as his shoulders tense when your chortle bounces into the room. You’re telling Peter goodnight as he heads back home to Queens.

“Hey!” You call, “Sunrise tomorrow?”

A faint affirmation is heard before Parker’s whooping whips faintly in the distance, swinging away. The front door closes and you pop into the kitchen wearing nothing but a swimsuit cover-up, full of diamond-shaped holes. A tiny pink bikini peeks out from underneath the pattern. Bucky averts his gaze because the women of his time did not dress like that and he’s not even sure looking in your direction is legal.

“Night swimming?” Steve asks with a smirk at his friend, who turns around to hide the red creeping up his cheeks like vines.

You nod eagerly before opening the pantry and grabbing a box of Oreos from the top shelf. Tucking one into your mouth, you crunch through it and swallow before closing the pantry door and placing the container under your arm. Crumbs fall down your chest and you curse under your breath as you swipe bits of cookie from your top, oblivious to why Steve suddenly finds the ceiling very interesting.

“Hey me and Double-P are gonna watch the sunrise on top of the Chrysler building tomorrow- you two wanna come? He’ll swing you right up! It’s fun! I’m gonna make breakfast!”

They both shake their head and you mutter something about their loss for a free roller coaster and good view. Bucky and Steve follow your path out the door and hear the patter of your feet before you crash into the deep midnight water with a tremendous cannonball. They watch as your head breaks the surface of ripples before you lean back and squirt water from your mouth like a fountain. Music surges from the outdoor speakers— a seductive Latin Pop tune with hints of reggaeton. You float over to the pool’s edge and throw another cookie in your mouth, bopping along to the groove enthusiastically, shoulders winding to the ebb and flow of water.

“C’mon, Buck.” Steve urges, motioning his head to where you float lazily, watching the moon, nodding to synth beats and timbales drumming. “Forget age… she woulda been your kinda girl back in the day.”

Bucky swallows and turns to his steaming mug, “There were no girls like her back in the day.”

-

It’s in the middle of his nightmare when Bucky jerks awake and smells buttered toast and coffee. It’s still dark out, only four-something, but he stumbles to the restroom and brushes his teeth anyway. When he arrives at the kitchen, you’re standing at the stovetop wearing athletic shorts and bunny slippers. There’s a frilly orange apron tied neatly to your waist, covering a shredded crop-top, and you’re flipping a hearty slice of bread with an egg in the center.

“Hey Sarge.” You smile, “Help yourself to an eggy. Yolk’s runny and dippable, just like God intended.”

He shakes his head no because he knows you’re preparing it for Peter, but sits down on a stool anyway, leaning over the counter to watch you with interest. When one piece of toast cooks, you move to crack fresh pepper and sea salt over another. You also slice tomatoes and rinse fresh basil leaves, tunelessly humming the whole time. When you stifle a yawn with your shoulder, Bucky squints at the tell-tale blue bags under your eyes.

“Again?”

You rub your neck with a guilty smile and take a sip of water, “Got stuck on the internet… reading about… I can’t even... I know I started with Kennedy… but the last browser is bee swarming and royal jelly...”

He laughs when you go off on a rant about how bees communicate with each other, even demonstrating for him something you called a “waggle dance”, and he’s not sure if you’re just making shit up or not but it’s cute as hell when you bend your elbows and shuffle in figure eights on the tile.

“So then, me— a bee— would show you— another bee— this dance… and then you would go find the yummy flower! And did you know bees would dance with excitement depending on how convinced they are about the quality of the flower!? They get excited!” You repeat the same figure eight this time accompanied by elbow flapping and happy buzzing. The sound vibrates between your teeth and sizzles over your lips.

Bucky’s laughing so hard he has to put his face in his hand. Finally, you settle down.

“Now your turn.” You tease. He shakes his head defiantly, eyes still brimming with amusement.

You pour him a steaming mug of coffee and slide it next to his hand with a small smile. There’s a strange light in your bleary eyes as you bite your bottom lip.

A flush suddenly sweeps across your cheeks.

“What?” Bucky asks, taking a slow sip, savoring the bitter taste as it rolls down his throat.

“It’s stupid...it’s nothing.” The awkward laugh coming from your throat makes Bucky shuffle in the stool, wary and slightly concerned. Before you can continue, Steve pokes his head in and announces he’s going for a run and asks you to save him some breakfast when he gets back. Bucky checks the time on the microwave. Almost five.

Something dings on the bar counter and you move to grab your phone, frowning and placing your hands on the ruffles against your hip. A disappointed noise sputters from your mouth before you tear off the apron and turn off the stovetop with a quiet fury. “He cancelled!” You cry, disappointment darkening your features. “I made all this crap!”

Bucky looks over the countertop arrangement of perfectly crispy thick multigrain toast, shiny fried eggs, tupperware containers of tomato and shredded basil, and two thermoses of coffee and juice. Your shoulders slump as you place your hands on your hips and lean back to pop your neck and crack your knuckles. You pick up the trash can and kick off its lid, placing the edge of the gaping dark maw against the counter, holding your arm out to sweep the food in. Your generally pleasant features are stained by a scowl.

He forgets how impulsive you can be.

“Wait!” Bucky yells, reaching across the counter. “I’ll go. I’ll watch the sunrise with you.” When you stare at him in surprise, he quickly glances around the countertops, “Let’s not waste all this. You worked really hard on it.”

A squeal escapes as you drop the trash can and clasp your two hands together in a cheer. “Bucky. You are…” you suck in a deep breath and hold your hands over your heart, “just the best. My number one… Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the one-oh-seventh.”

His heart leaps just a tad as his former title rolls off your tongue almost wistfully. Bucky opens his mouth to ask you what you mean but you’re balancing two containers of foil-wrapped toast, another one of tomato slices and the thermoses are hanging precariously on your middle fingers. Bucky leaps from his seat and takes the food from you, leaving the thermoses in your hand.

“To the roof, Sarge!” You smile, leading the way. He follows closely behind and raises his eyebrow curiously when you keep looking back at him every few steps.

It’s in the middle of biting into the most heavenly piece of toast he’s ever had that Bucky hears you giggle shyly. You’re rarely bashful— usually too sharp-tongued and unfiltered is how most people would describe you. It’s why your best friend is Peter Parker: boy genius, mile-a-minute-mouth.

“What is it?” Bucky’s teeth crunch against the crisp brown edge, the bite of egg sliding over his tongue.

You’re leaned back on your palm, brushing a crumb from the corner of your mouth as you chew pensively on a slice of tomato. The sky is a blackened bruise behind you, disappearing into the balm of a soft, glowing orange.

“You were my deadcrush back in the day.” You mutter, hiding your lips with the tomato. Bucky stops mid-chew and freezes completely, unsure if the confession is just another trick his mind is playing on him. Maybe a breeze in the wind just sounds like your voice. “Not to make this weird…” you supply almost fearfully.

“Oh…”

“I mean— you know, it was totally normal. All the girls either liked Captain America or Sergeant Barnes.” You stuff the tomato in your mouth and reach for another just to busy your hands. Bucky’s face heats up like the morning, and he takes a sip of orange juice to calm it down.

“Sure,” you ramble onward, tomato flinging around between your fingers as you gesture back and forth, “I mean, most of them liked Cap— golden lion boy and all—hero’s journey kind of thing… I guess I felt, closer to you.”

You exhale deeply, “When you first came to the tower, I thought I was dreaming. Can you imagine? I felt like I was in the sixth grade.”

His brow furrows as he ponders your question. “Is that why you’re so nice to me?” It slips out before he can catch it, but it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

“Probably at first,” You admit with a little shrug, “But eventually the schoolgirl crush thing went away, and I started liking you way more. Genuinely, y’know? Not under the thumb of a paltry, fleeting thing.”

He forgets how unexpectedly introspective you can be.

The tomato in your hand is only a shimmer of juice on your fingers now and you reach for something else to occupy yourself lest you become reduced to just weighing your hands together out of nervousness. You pause when Bucky asks, shocked, “You l-like me?”

Then, a smile, against the warming backdrop, he thinks you look like something out of a painter’s imagination—a delicate page from Steve’s notepad. A gentle breeze picks up your lashes, makes you squint a little.

“Yeah. I like you a lot.”

How does someone say such a heavy thing so easily? Bucky turns hot all over, heart beating too fast from your statement and the coffee made too strongly. “Thank you.”

You laugh and throw your head back for a second before shaking your hair wildly and sitting up, as if you’re discarding something. Light bounces off your cheeks as you catch your breath and take the coffee thermos from him. “You’re welcome, Bucky.” Then, softer, “Look.”

A streak of yellow opens up the sky in the east, melting away the ink around it into flames of blood orange and cerise. Still twinkling are the stars entrenched in deep blue further away.

“I’m not dead anymore.” He states plainly. “I can’t be your deadcrush if I’m not dead anymore.”

A chortle escapes- snorts and scoffs and not at all what he expects when you push your hand to your face and laugh in such a way that he might for a split second find it unattractive. But he doesn’t. He finds it so truly endearing that his heart swells like clouds over the morning sky.

A part of him quiets with the settling feeling of disappointment. Your silence gets swirled around in the next bitter mouthful of coffee and Bucky kicks his heel aimlessly against the concrete rooftop. To his left, you scoot a little closer, reach over and take the thermos from his hand. Your fingers linger, and then you put the container down.

“Bucky,” You say. His name so sweetly rolls off your tongue he can taste it—spun sugar and molasses in his mouth. It’s orange and yellow and blue behind you. Your eyes glisten with promise, as sure as the sunrise.

“You can want things, like love.”

It’s so forthright it punches the air right out of him. Before he knows it, you are leaning forward with a smile, planting a tender kiss on his cheek as he stares on open-mouthed and in awe.

And then, you break the moment with a yawn covered by your hand and groan as fatigue slips over like a blanket. “Oh fuck, I am beat, Sarge. Why’d you let me stay up so late?”

He only smiles before he puts his hand over yours for just a moment. “Come on,” He says, “I’ll help you clean up.” But the moment changes again, and he finds himself crawling past the containers of egg and toast, nearly knocking over the juice to hover over your mouth.

Coffee and cream linger between hesitant lips. Then there is a feverish clash-- you, clambering to sit up, to match him in enthusiasm-- him, bold enough to meet your surge with two large hands. He snakes them around your waist, crushing your torso to his.

Your fingers create a separation between your stomachs as you ruck his shirt up, gripping his chest and back and digging into his shoulder. A sharp breath escapes before he comes to snuff it out, licking your mouth, sucking on your tongue.

“Jesus.” You mutter when you break away for air, eyes still closed, “God. Okay. This is happening.”

Bucky laughs and sits back, places his hand on your bare thigh, shaking his head. “I—yeah, well maybe not here.”

“Yeah- yeah, of course… I .. get so caught up.”

He laughs again, because he knows. It’s why you haven’t slept all night, why you made a feast for just two people watching a sunrise, why you ramble on about the most mundane things but somehow still enrapture him, and it’s why he likes you. Your cheeks burn when the first ray of sunshine shoots over the tree scape.

A ding next to your hand catches his attention—a text from Steve.

You peer at it curiously before opening the message. Bucky looks too, and sees the image of the same sunrise he’s witnessed, but over the familiarity of the East Side sprawl.

A second message appears, Steve grinning, Peter winking.

A third one with a single, cheeky question: You and Buck doin’ good?

Bucky slips his shirt back down his golden torso while you tap out a furious response, groaning at the way you’ve been set up by your friends. Before you can send it, he takes the device from you and places it face-down on the roof with a smile. “Are we?” He asks, suddenly shy. “Doin’ good?”

Quietly, you nod.

In the middle of a second kiss, Bucky knows he’s done for. He’s falling hard and fast and can’t stop.

In the middle of a third kiss, you’re there next to him, all smiles and wonder as the two of you plunge together.

Part 2

[thecrowsjoker]

This is based on the brilliant prompt by @werewolvesatemylife sorry I’m not able to do it justice but here’s a mini fanfic based on the idea. I saw the prompt very early in the morning- and kinda shot up to write this- so sorry if it’s not the best I’m still very tired. 

There is slight Shuake implied.

Brief Summary

Futaba finds an encrypted file on Goro’s phone. 

-

Futaba Sakura was curious by nature. 

After gaining access to Goro Akechi's phone, the younger hacker longed for the night.

She waited at home, computer mirroring his screen.

The young detective liked to edit his photos quite a lot, adding blooms or darkening them if they were to bright.

  He also had a lot of pictures of their leader for some reason, periodically opening one up every now and then. 

Futaba could see the messages they sent to each other outside of the chat, they liked to play Darts alot- no wonder Akira was always so broke, the train-fare back and forth probably cost him a small fortune. 

Around 1am the activity came to halt with the last message wishing goodnight to the PT's leader. 

After an hour of waiting for any changes- Futaba went to work- downloading every-file she could from the device. 

It didn't take long. Less longer than she thought. 

She was halfway through eating her second cup of instant ramen when her computer told her that she'd successfully burned every file to her computer. 

She quickly disconnected from his phone and then smiled as she began to look through all the information she could. 

There wasn't much at first- drafts messages to Akira that said so much about his loneliness, imperfect pictures of the detective, a few deleted messages from Shido that basically confirmed the betrayal.

But then there was the encrypted file. 

Futaba quickly put in a cheap USB burner before attempting to open it- and sure enough it fried the thing. She said a silent prayer to it, thanking it for it's sacrifice before placing a second burner in. 

The file had 8 encryption codes- each more complex and each costing more time to dismantle- by the time she got in- it was 4:54am and her head was lolling to the side as she took a quick powernap. 

The last block gave her a pause.

Why on earth did Goro Akechi's file have her own handy work on it?

It was her first program- sloppy and easily broken into- but that alone said enough... there was only one other person that had access to that- and she was dead. 

With her heart racing- Futaba finally accessed the file.

The first thing that popped up was a picture of Wakaba Sakura with a young boy- 13 at most. 

The boy was wearing thick glasses, his bronze hair was tussled and he looked malnourished and tired, but he was smiling shyly up at the camera. 

Futaba this is my final goodbye to both you and Goro. 

I have so many regrets in life- but this boy- I beg you- please do not blame him for what he does. 

This is the real Goro 'Akechi' from 2 years ago- before the experiments began. 

This is the person we destroyed in order to learn more about the cognitive world.

He was a shy boy, sweet and polite but very timid. 

We used the cognitive world to change his personality, perfected his mind to be someone he was not. 

We entombed the real Goro Akechi under a plastic facade that would do anything we wanted.

With it we drew out Loki. 

I tried to reverse it. I worked day and night to find a way to free him. I began to neglect you, I began to fear what would happen if I couldn't stop what was happening.

But I was desperate. 

I love him, just as I do you.

I wanted to introduce you to your new brother, I'd know you'd be so happy together- he always talked about you when I showed him pictures- he even gave me that feather-man tape I know you love so much.

It makes me so happy when you talk about it nowadays- I see his passion come through your excitement.

He's still there I know he is- trying to find him way out.

I won’t give up.

- The next message was dated a few days before her mothers death. - Futaba I failed I'm sorry I know what's going to happen to me. I'm so sorry I love you and Goro with everything I have left. I'm sorry we couldn't go to the beach, I wanted us all to go together. Save him. Please- i beg you. - By the time Futaba was done she was shaking, tears running down her face. She didn't know if she could do what her mother had begged of her. She barely talked to Goro himself. She stared up at the featherman poster on her ceiling, the only connection she knew they both shared.

Her thoughts went to Akira and the messages the two shared, he was reaching out to Goro- accepting everything about him just to get close. 

if anyone could save Goro Akechi, it was him.

-

[mimosaeyes]

Martin’s love has always felt like an act of grace. Post-166. Jon and the weight of guilt. 1k. Content warning for brief recollection of canon-typical body horror.

Beta-ed by @sequoiawintersnight.

He should really get back to Martin. Usually, he goes as soon as he’s done recording — and doesn’t that just take the cake, that he can speak of usually at the end of the world. As if vicariously experiencing other people’s worst nightmares is just a routine task he has to get through, another tourist attraction to take a snapshot of, then cross off the list.

It’s different, with Too-Close-I-Cannot-Breathe. He can still remember the feeling of walls pressing in on all sides, forcing him to scrape and squirm his way forward. It had gotten so tight in the coffin that he’d started picturing the layers of himself being shaved off, one by one, as he wormed his way deeper in. First there would be patches in his clothes, then in his skin, until the thing that finally reached Daisy would be red and raw, slippery with blood and exposed tissue. Like one of those muscular anatomy diagrams in a doctor’s office, or a squalling newborn going through a reverse birth, devolving as it returned to a subterranean womb.

He can’t quite shake off that memory of being entombed. He doesn’t like to think about it, but the domain of the Buried has forced him to. And maybe… maybe it’s only right that he relives his little sojourn. What better punishment for a killer whose weapon of choice is forcing torturers to feel what their victims felt?

You have drawn out so much despair, he’d told the creature that masqueraded as Sasha James, and now finally, it’s your turn.

He crumples, slowly, to the ground. The cold mud welcomes him even as he can feel it reluctantly buoy him up from sinking — wary of the eyes in the sky watching over their precious, broken messiah.

He curls in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest. The position narrows his field of vision to a thin strip of wet earth, and his scarred arms underneath it. His back is hunched and he can sense just where he’s missing those two floating ribs, so that one side feels tighter than the other. It’s uncomfortable. So he doesn’t move.

All the pain that’s been inflicted on this body against his will, and the one time he thinks a little psychic pain could have purpose, he’s walled out of it. The irony doesn’t escape him. There’s no penance for monsters. No absolution for the wretched.

He closes his eyes.

When he next opens them, Martin has found him.

“Jon,” he says, his voice urgent with worry. He’s kneeling in front of him, resting his hands on Jon’s arms with just enough pressure to recall him to himself. “Are you alright?”

Fine, he considers replying. A well-worn lie. Or perhaps some honesty: I’m not sure I have any right to be, after what I did.

No. He can’t say that. Because the other thing he doesn’t deserve is Martin, looking at him like this. Earnest and concerned and so, so kind.

Jon looks askance and pushes to his feet, shying away when Martin scrambles up too and offers him a hand. “What are you doing here?” Jon croaks. He clears his throat. “You have to stay away until— I might not have been done yet.”

“You are, though,” Martin points out. He frowns. “And you were taking so long, I thought…”

“That I was in trouble?” His lips twist into a bitter smile, which contorts further as he hears his own self-pitying tone. “It’s not like anything out here could hurt me.”

“I thought you might need help.” Martin dips his chin and stares at his feet. More quietly, he adds, “I thought you might be lost.”

Jon can’t help but flinch at the words. They’re exactly what he’d said when he found Martin in the Lonely. Only, Martin had deserved redemption. He’d sacrificed so much for Jon’s sake, and that was after Jon left him alone for some of the worst months of his life.

There’s a version of this conversation, he thinks, where he cracks a joke about how he can’t get lost; perks of being a post-apocalyptic Google, and all that. Then he would let Martin take his hand and lead him out of the Buried. Martin would start describing Kill Bill for him, even though he could just Know it. He would act out all the best bits and Jon would feign grumpy-old-man confusion, because he loves when Martin gets all fond and exasperated explaining memes to him.

Helen had jokingly called them avenging angels as she left, but Jon knows which part of that equation he makes up. Whereas Martin’s love has always felt like an act of grace, to him.

Feather-light, tenderly, he reaches out and trails his fingers along Martin’s cheek. He can’t bring himself to respond to the second thing Martin had said. Instead, he thinks about clemency; all the hundreds of times Martin has said or done exactly what Jon needed, and so much more than he deserved. He contemplates his own, burned hand, and how Martin leans into the touch anyway, cupping his hand over Jon’s and smiling that sad smile, the one Jon wishes he evoked less often.

“I’ve always needed you,” he says at last, and doesn’t add more than you need me.

Martin’s smile grows beatific, like Jon has somehow managed to say the right thing. “I’ll always help you.”

It’s only then that Jon notices the spade lying in the dirt to one side of them. Reflexively, he recoils, grabbing Martin by the wrist and dragging him away too. “You weren’t digging, were you?” But there’s grit on his fingers. Jon actually feels the blood drain from his face. “Martin, tell me you weren’t digging.”

“Only a little — only to answer a phone,” Martin says. Jon’s panic redoubles, and Martin quickly continues, “Hey, hey, it’s alright. I just, I wanted to tell Annabelle Cane to bugger off already.”

Jon huffs at that, because he can’t manage a laugh. “What did she say?”

Martin shakes his head. “Nothing important,” he promises, leaning in to kiss Jon. He does it almost firmly, matter-of-fact, there you are; I love you. Despite everything.

“Come on. Let’s get you away from here.”

He pulls on Jon’s hand. Jon lets him. The best thing he can do for Martin is pretend it stops the thoughts. Wretched as he is, if it’ll keep Martin looking at him with kind eyes and salvation, Jon can pretend anything.

[also available on AO3 here]

[my TMA fic on AO3]

[iesorno]

We spoke to Adam a little while ago about his influences and inspirations and found his answers intriguing, so we decided to dive in and dig a bit deeper. We just kept on going with it all until we ended up with a mammoth interview going into every corner of his mind, from practice and accessing his creativity, to grafting to make a living outside of the norms of the mainstream.

I think it’s a fascinating look into the practice, experiences and the will to succeed that powers Adam, as well as a window into the wider world of underground creators.

WARNING – GORE and some SEX

You can find Adam here

webstore                youtube                facebook

  ZL – Hi Adam! Thanx for agreeing to this interview, hope you enjoy it. 

Let’s get introductions out of the way. For anyone that doesn’t know, can you tell us your name, where you grew up and where you currently live?

AY – My name is Mr. Adam Yeater. I grew up a swamp rat in Florida and traveled around a lot. I finally settled down in Arizona as a desert rat. I went from one Florida to another. 

ZL – For a little bit more background. You clearly enjoy underground and mini comix, so how did you first find out about them and what were you interested in before you started reading them?

AY – I discovered zines through the early Death/Grind Metal scene in the 90s. There was no internet so everything was done via snail mail. I used to get so much great printed matter. Demo tapes, fliers for bands, albums and review zines. I eventually started my own zine called Subliminal Message. We lived in Ohio in a shit hole little town. Trying to get high, fighting, reading comic books, listening to Metal, Punk Rock, Hardcore Rap and skateboarding.

I was a very industrious broke ass 14 year old kid. I found a way to get some of the mainstream metal record companies to send me promo stuff for their bands for review. I was getting stacks of stuff in the mail. The record companies were mailing backstage passes to me! My mom thought I was running a mail scam.

I once did a phone interview with Chris Barnes when he was in Cannibal Corpse. Chris called for an interview and my mom picked up the phone. He was like “Are you a fucking kid? Holy shit! I usually do interviews with old dudes?” We talked for an hour and half about Metallica selling out. It was amazing. I idolized these weirdos and was getting to just hang out with them. 

I did an interview with Cro-Mags right when the original singer got out of prison. I did an interview with Entombed for my high school newspaper! I even interviewed the Goo Goo Dolls when they were on Metalblade Records just for the hell of it. Those metal bands were my heroes. They treated me as an equal and I was this punk kid. They all encouraged me to keep at it. I was getting first hand knowledge of trying to make a living as a creative in American society from them. The good and bad. 

ZL – What did it feel like the first time you ever spoke to one of your heroes? It must have felt pretty excellent, right?

AY – It was awesome talking to those bands, it was a real rush. I would get so nervous. I got to hang with some of the bands before and after the shows. All these dudes just embraced me as one of them. I am super tall, so I looked a lot older than I was. I was also a big nerd for the metal scene so I was turning them onto all this other new stuff I was getting. I think they saw me as an oddity. Then we moved to Tucson where there was no metal scene. 

ZL – Is that why you stopped making your zine then, moving to Tucson?

AY – Yeah, moving from Ohio to Arizona. The scene was pretty lame in AZ. No bands would come through Tucson at the time. So I ditched the ‘zine and started a Grindcore band with some friends. We did pretty well for a local death metal act. We played shows with Napalm Death and smoked a ton of weed with Sadistic Intent, that was cool. 

Lots of drugs and drama, bandmates stealing from each other. . . even more drugs. It was a very fucked up time in my life that I am happy to have survived. 

ZL – At what point did you get back into zines and start to think that self-publishing comics was something you could do or that you were good at and wanted to do more with, to just keep going and going and see how far you could take it?

AY – After the band and metal zine I started printing my own mini comics and comic books. I really got into self publishing and art because I had nothing else really. My last “legit” job was as a janitor before I decided to do art and publish full time. I figured I would rather starve as an artist than starve scrubbing shit off toilets. Art is the only thing I have ever been really good at. So I just keep doing it. 

ZL – Circling back to get a bit more from your background for a minute, what first turned you into a comic reader and from there, did you move to be a collector or fan, if that distinction makes sense!! And where in all of that did you start making your own comics?

AY- I was into comics a lot when I was young as a collector and fan before I moved into extreme music. I was keeping up with the medium but was focused on the death metal band I was in.

After the band. I was doing paintings and fine art for quite a while. I had also done comics on the side but my fine art was doing well. Then the housing market crashed and nobody was buying art for foreclosed homes. 

Luckily I had been doing an extreme comic strip in the metal ‘zines and in the mini comics I was doing. I saw that a local comic convention had started. So I printed them all up and booked a table. I sold out of my first printing and a bunch of art. That is when One Last Day started. 

ZL – How did that feel, selling out of books like that? I’m guessing it must have been quite a boost as you carried on and set up an online store! What was the convention like, if you remember at all, did you have a good time there chatting and meeting fans and creators? A lot of people talk about how much the community at a convention matters to them, was that important to you at the time?

AY – It was a real boost. From that little bit of seed money I have been able to keep the ball rolling and have kept printing comics ever since. The comics scene in Tucson in the early 90s was really small and bare bones. It was me and like 2 other indie guys actively printing their own comics. I have encouraged and fostered so many people to make their own comics since then. Many writers and artists from the Tucson scene are now in the mainstream and indie comics system. 

The couple who started the Tucson Comic Con have been the best thing for our local comix and art scene. Rather than neglecting local and indie comics they embraced and promoted them. I was so lucky to be in a place where the local comic convention focused heavily on independent comic artists. 

I see kids that I taught inking classes to that are now publishing their comics on Amazon. Kids that now give me their books and thank me for all the support and inspiration I gave them. It is humbling. Before the ‘rona I was leaving 1000s of mini comics all over town instead of fliers for the last 15 years. It has exposed people in this town and state to my art and a world of comic books they never knew existed. 

ZL – Speaking of coronavirus, I’m wondering how much that has affected your income currently? Do you rely heavily on con sales or do you have a whole set of ways to get sales, which is a terrible way of asking that I’m really interested in how you generate sales for your work, what venues and sources and what sort of percentage of sales comes from them. Have you got a regular set of fans that buy everything, are you using email communications, just facebook?

AY – In today’s art and comics world every successful artist has to be a little bit Andy Worhol and a lot of P. T. Barnum. Otherwise nobody will give a shit about you. So I have a ton of different ways to move my stuff. The website is my main hub but I do small zine fests and shows whenever I can. I have been doing OK but had to switch gears during the crisis. My online sales picked up so that helped a lot. I also have new books coming out all this year. I think that helps too.

Comic conventions at one time were a really good source of income when I first started doing them. I was making great money. Every year it has become progressively less of a viable option for creators like me. The big comic shows are just pop culture festivals. The last few years a lot of the larger shows could care less about indie comics. Table prices and entry fees are way too high for a self publisher or upcoming creator to make any money. Especially out of state shows. Hotel, travel, etc. Because of this I was only doing smaller zine/comic shows and focusing on my online sales already. The virus was a great reason to really focus on my online presence. 

ZL – I first saw your work through a facebook group, one of the indie comics groups that sort of specializes in small press superhero and space operas, and I was wondering whether you think those groups help the creators reach more readers, or whether they are all more community pages as in it’s all people that want to make comics and they’re all working to support their own bubbles? (Obviously I’m exaggerating a little, they often have horror and then there’s oddball work that pops up, but there do seem to be a lot of big boob bad girls and massive muscles in some kind of genre thing. )

AY- I look at social media differently than most. I talk shit about comics on it but I have never used it as a political soapbox or a place to talk about my “personal journey”. I post my art and comix. That is it. I speak through my art. I like to “post and ghost”. I feel I am a healthier person for it. 

This year I have slowly been taking my art off all the platforms. They are not an unbiased purveyor of ideas. Like the original internet was intended for. Social media is making us all sick. Scientifically proven sick. 

I have grown to hate the self imposed censorship imposed on social media by advertisers and cancel culture. We as artists should have the right to dictate our expression by taking risks. Without having to worry about some simp nerd in Silicon Valley shadow banning or blacklisting us. 

These leeches profit heavily on ALL of us. Especially artists. They work to infringe on our rights and hinder our freedom to express. The platforms are privatizing our existence. Fakebook and the Twits are just digital emotional vampires. 

They should be paying you a fee to use your content and sell it to their stupid advertisers. They make billions off you and you know what you get, a little dopamine for that “like”. Wow, sweet trade off. Not!!

We all need to stand up in some way as artists. Post fucked up art and weird shit all the time! I wanna see a sea of artistically drawn dicks and vaginas. Shitposts, and fucked up memes on my “news” feed. Random acts of artistic defiance. We need confrontational art more now than ever! I want to see original artwork that pushes against cultural dogmas and shitty societal norms. 

Instead I see oceans of fan art and trash pop culture mashups. Useless e-rage and cat pics. Art without confrontation is just advertising at this point. 

ZL – Now, that’s an interesting one, because there are two sides to the argument on this and I sort of flop wildly between the two without any great reason. I can see why social media is not going to allow seas of dicks – they are easy triggers to SEE, so they’re easy to switch off to maintain acceptability, it seems pointless to me, but is important to a lot of people, so… There’s also the issue of managing genuine freedom to express and people posting images of tentacles raping 6 year old girls and how you manage to monitor that, so it’s just EASIER not to try and figure it and blanket ban it all. 

What I think calls bullshit on their motives for me is that they’ll censor that, but allow neo-nazi lies or channels where people openly spout homophobic, racist or sexist bile. There’s a stinking dichotomy there that calls a lie to their talk of community and keeping us safe from damaging content. 

I certainly wouldn’t want to have to be the poor sod that sifted through all of this stuff to check it though!

Pippa Creme and the Pearl Necklace – Dexter Cockburn

Equally, with work like yours or – to call in someone else I follow who is always getting bumped from facebook – Dexter Cockburn – who does some great porn comics. I see these things as being completely ok and not deserving of banning, but seeing cape comics and how innately sexualised and soft porn like the women are made to look, that makes me feel very dubious, it seems wrong in that context, as it’s so pervasive and so unspoken and clandestine. 

AY – Exactly. It is weird how the mainstream sexulizes it’s heroes. The guys look just as bad. It is a form of repressed erotica. I think it all looks so funny. Balloon shaped breasts or the massive man bulge. There is a big market for that stuff so more power to them. 

It just seems erotica in comix is ok for some and not others. The censorship online is selective. Dexter is a comix friend of mine and a great example. The guidelines are so ambiguous and filled with jargon it becomes nonsense. 

I totally get censorship for criminal reasons. That is a no brainer. What I saw was not that. 

I saw the platforms actively destroy the online followings of some extreme horror artist’s I was following. Some of us had built large fan bases on Myspace and brought our fans over to FB with us. When FB started shutting accounts down it crushed a lot of those artist’s online communities and sales. A lot of artists had to start all new accounts with different names causing them to lose 1000s of followers. Some just gave up or stopped posting extreme art all together. They are still doing it to some of the Ero Goro artists from Japan. It is really fucked up.

ZL – That’s part of the curse and benefit of social media though, they give and then they take away when you’ve made them successful. I do wonder what we can do about that though, maybe they should migrate back to Myspace, maybe the whole retreat to mailing lists is the answer? I don’t know, we need community spaces but we need them to not go dark and end up being hiding places for crime or the dark web. What do you do about it, eh? Maybe you should start curating work into new mail lists and have link sites for different peoples’ interests!!

AY – I like that idea. I have always wanted to do a monthly brochure of underground creators. Like a double sided mailer. I might do one for the Smalll Press Express to hand out at shows. Getting the word out is why I do the YouTube channel. Nobody is shedding light on the best part of comics. The odd, voiceless, strange and marginalized. I think anything that promotes the underground scene and unites indy comic artists is good. I feel every little thing helps. We are all in this sinking ship together. The mainstream comics people keep poking holes in the boat. The indy creators have to keep bailing it out.

ZL – Moving on from that unanswerable conundrum… Is community important to you and comics? Is publishing and buying and communicating with other creators a way of building a place in the wider world for the kinds of things that you enjoy and the kind of things you want to make?

AY – What community. The comics community? 

It just saddens me so much lately. The internet and social media had so much potential to dissolve physical, cultural and social boundaries to our communication around the world. 

Instead most people have developed the attention span of a gnat. I doubt anyone will actually read all this. So I am just gonna lay it all out. How I see it as an outsider looking in.

There is a massive world of art and comics that is ignored in the west. It is where I exist as a creative. I work with toy making friends in South Korea and send comix pages to Artizines in Spain. Send instant messages to slap sticker artists in Japan. All in a few seconds!! This used to take weeks, even months via phone and mail. Many here just take this shit for granted. 

I had a “stick poke” tattooist from Taiwan ask if she could use one of my mini comic images in her little shop. How sick is that!! I live for that!!

I have worked with 100s of the most creative and amazing artists from all over the world. I have had enough love and inspiration from the global art community to last me two life times!!

  The American comics community is a weird story. My books sell well. My fans are awesome. First time readers always come back. I do really well at every comic convention I have ever done, even small ones. I have printed, sold or given away thousands of my mini-comics, floppies and magazines. All over this crazy earth. 

Somehow I have largely existed as an outsider in Western comics. Other than a few supportive cats in the southwest comics scene like Brian Pulido. I feel like they largely just ignore my comics. I have had a few pros refer to my work as ‘zines’ as a sort of insult. 

I started Blood Desert as a big middle finger to the whole corporate comics crowd. The main character is stuck with a permanent middle finger. Good luck co-opting that sucktards. 

When I complete the World of Knonx series I wanna only make comics that are a massive fuck you to that whole unimaganitive self indulgent English centric corporate comics world. I wanna make comics for shitheads all over the world like me.

Most of the comics in the mainstream indie world are leftovers from that hokey auto-bio movement. All of them are still pining over Crumb and Pekar to this day. 

Who knew making super boring comics about your masturbation habits and history no one cares about would be considered as works of high literary art. I guess it is an easy claim to make when the critics also work for the publishers of said high grade comic “art.”

That is just the indy crowd. At this point most people’s knowledge of modern comics comes from dopey stupor hero comics and movies that are made for mouthbreathers by ex-television writers. 

These books are made by “Professional” comic book writers that get top billing over a bunch of lazy artists. These are the same “professionals” who waste their time all day on Twitter and YouTube race baiting each other and blathering nonsense about politics. Somehow they can never seem to get books out on time or any real work done. Go figure. 

Can we all just agree that the comics Youtubers are totally obnoxious. Normal people do not care about all your dumb nerd drama. The “comics news” channels love to foment drama in the industry to make money off of more views. They live to promote division among creators. Mind numbing 4 hour live streams of inane political blather. Interviewing the same old industry jobbers about some dopey superhero comic they made 20 years ago. Effete dorks gushing jizz in their whitey tighties over their wonton nostalgia.

These formerly bullied nerds bully each other constantly online. Doxing, Blacklisting, Censoring, Attacking and Canceling each other. Bunch of grade school kid popularity bullshit. I want absolutely NO part of either side’s dysfunctional cult. These sad people must love to live in a heightened state of anxiety. 

There are 100s of amazing prolific working storytellers chomping at the bit to talk about and sell their titles. Why not interview and promote these creators. Artists who choose not to engage in either side’s petty childish games. Those creators are largely ignored or admonished for not taking sides. 

The industry seems to only want to dwell in nostalgia? A Nostalgia that actually hurts creators. I really wanna talk about Alan Moore. 

Let’s all wax about the greatness of Watchmen ONE last time and finally let it go. Watchmen is the comic book Alan Moore won’t even have in his house because of the disdain he has for the American comics industry.

Comics culture could care less about Alan. They talk about his work gushing with praise. Then they call the man a nutter behind his back. 

The majority of the comics press treated him like a clown and discounted his opinions at every turn. 

Watchmen, the comic they keep in print just so Alan does not regain any of the rights back. 

By promoting and working on Watchmen in any way they are all pretty much saying fuck you to Alan. It is just accepted by everyone. “Oh well! We should just keep screwing this dude cause we all really love those characters.” It is shameful.

Shall I go on about the other creators that were screwed by this “industry”. Seigel, Shuster, Kirby, Finger, Simon and so many more.

The House of Morons track record with creatives is just as terrible. It would take all day to list the Big two’s transgressions against their freelancers. 

All their Editors in Chief make millions while their freelancers get crumbs.

Or maybe there is hope in the price gouging comic book store owners. They did nothing but complain about Diamond and the Big 2’s scams non stop for years. Then they still lap up everything they do or make like pablum. Accepting and still embracing this constant abuse. Over and over and over. I wonder if the majority of store owners are into BDSM? 

Should I bother mentioning all the sex predators that the major comics companies have been covering for?

So now after a long career and all my hard work building a loyal following I am supposed to kiss ass and play nice as a potential artist for them. I am supposed to work on shit I don’t care about? I get to beg for a job doing interior pages for less than minimum wage and no healthcare? No thanks. I am busy building my own worlds not piggybacking on the stolen worlds of others.

The US comics “industry” is kind of a total joke to me at this point. 

ZL – It sounds like you are existing as part of a community though, maybe not an American comics community, but an international underground art community, does that seem fair to say? 

AY – I was actually becoming a big part of the community for a popular comics Youtube channel for a minute until I was excommunicated. The two creators that host the channel constantly espouse to be a bastion for indie creators. As Maury Povich likes to say…” that is a lie.” 

The channel blacklisted me because of a mini comic I did showing cartoon portraits of accused sex predators and general jerks working in the American comics industry. 

I am not part of Comicsgate or any other stupid comics cult. I am not a lecherous ogre who harasses women at comics shows. I am a boring family man who makes weird comics. I speak through my art not by posting constant drama online.

I made a mini comic that someone didn’t like. That was it. Instead of finding out my side of things related to the matter these hosts just booted the videos my comics were featured in off their channel. They also had admins remove my posts off other platforms related to them. I was blatantly censored by these “artists.”

So looking back I think it had nothing to do with that mini comic. They have featured sexually violent work like Vigil’s. My stuff is tame in comparison. I feel they were threatened by my output and my dopey little youtube channel. Which is laughable. 

I have worked tirelessly my whole career to support marginalized creators in my community and around the world for over 20 years. 

At this point I would rather work with the people who get what I do and dwell in quiet obscurity rather than work with these kinds of self-serving troglodyte hacks that are so prevalent in the medium of modern mainstream comics and the art world. 

Most of these “pro comic artists” are just glorified fan artists with a little bit of stylized skill. I think that’s why all their books are so derivative of all the other stuff in the mainstream lexicon. They dwell in constant nostalgia and their work is proof of it. 

I actually feel sorry for them. To have so little faith in yourself that you have to try to take down other artists is such a sad pathetic way to live. 

One thing you can count on with some artists and comics creators. Their egos are as fragile as glass.

Comics culture in the US is steeped in all this kind of nonsensical dogma. It has become an idiotic cult of reactionary clones with Youtube and Twitter accounts. 

ZL – Thinking about that wider world of community and how there’s always been an underground arts community and sometimes people travelled through them, often linked to universities or small art publications. Do you feel like that community is something that is now easier to achieve and to curate for yourself with social media, but it involves a lot of effort and commitment to do that and that’s why it takes those in a scene, those dug into that creative feeling, to do that kind of curation?

AY – I guess It is easier to find new stuff now, but there is a lot of oversaturation online. Lots of skilled but boring fan art. Way too much fan art online. 

All the crowdfunded stuff is pretty boring and derivative of the mainstream comics they say they hate. Plus there is a high failure rate. Very slow/low delivery rate on those projects that nobody likes to talk about.

I kind of wish the companies cracked down on all the IP theft at shows and online the way they do obscenity. Before the pandemic the comic conventions in the states sucked for indie creators because of all the fanart.

ZL – Yeah, that seems to be a big issue all round, but it’s also tricky as a lot of indie creators make bucks doing commissions of existing mainstream IP. I also think that the move from mini comics and zines to pop-culture sources and attempts to be as professional as professional comics has done a lot of unspoken damage. Yeah, sure, you get a lot of a crowd, but how many are BUYERS?

AY – That is why I stopped making any kind of fanart about 15 years ago including commissions. I think fan art and commissions are a crutch for artists to lean on.

To me it shows a lack of ability to tell stories or have faith in their own creations. They are too afraid to go all in and only make and sell their own comics. They wanna draw cool spidey pin-ups not tell stories with art. There is a huge difference between the two kinds of artists.

The best Mangaka spend their whole careers telling these long form epic stories. We should aspire to that aesthetic not do a bunch of cool variant covers. 

It is easy to draw an existing IP. The design and imaginative work was done for you. You are just a human copy machine. It takes a lot of time and faith to go all in on your own ideas. I think a lot of artists try it and just give up and fall back on selling fan art at shows.

I do great at shows without any fan art. You don’t need it. I think selling fan art actually hurts indie creators. They are selling books for our competition. 

If you just offer people something new and different and work hard to sell that work they will buy it. I offer people something that is unique. Not just another Deadpool print or sketch.

ZL – Do you see yourself as part of a comics lineage, either style or approach wise? Do you feel it’s important to leave your own mark on the world, hence the making of items rather than posting online, or are you interested in building a space for now or are you trying to just get out what needs to be got out to keep your brain quiet?

AY: Comics lineage is less of a thing now because of oversaturation in the medium. Everyone can make and print their own comics now. So the key is to have your own style of storytelling. I don’t like the autobio comics genre but at least they know how to tell a story. 

That’s why I think physical media is still very important. An artist is not curtailed by the formats of printing anymore. You can adjust your style to any kind of printing process now. It used to be the other way around.

Aesthetically I want my work to be as beautiful and be as prolific as Osamu Tezuka was. Dark and creepy as Hideshi Hino‘s. Confrontational and cooky as Mike Diana‘s. With a mad dose of the dark action of a 2000AD Magazine. 

Boiled Angel – Mike Diana

ZL – I don’t know if you’re old enough to remember the Mike Diana obscenity case and the outcome of that ridiculous situation? It was big, even in UK comic magazines at the time. I remember them telling him that he wasn’t even allowed to draw AT HOME and that they would be coming in to check that he wasn’t drawing! So, I guess there’s that as a check to what we were saying about social media silencing creators, it’s not like it’s a new phenomenon, sadly. 

AY – I started getting into making fucked up comics at the same time as him. I was making One Last Day which is nowhere near as extreme or pornographic as Mike’s stuff, but it was really violent. His case scared me into being real careful who I sent my books to. 

ZL – When did you first encounter Mike Diana’s work, then and what’s so inspiring about it?

AY- I have seen more of his work recently. I like the absolute absurdity of it. It was so hard to get out here in the west coast unless you ordered it. I am not a big fan of pornographic or cheesecake comics. I do like some of the cruder stuff that is just too weird to be arousing. The work exists more as a piece of weird art rather than porn in some odd way. I have not gotten to read a ton of his stuff. He is actually a big fan of mine on Instagram. The punk rock kid in me loves seeing a block of “likes” by Mike. I have mailed him a bunch of my comix for trade.If he is reading this “Yo man! You gotta mail me some of your books!” Heh! 

ZL – I’m also intrigued to know how you found out about 2000AD as my understanding is that it’s not well known over in the US. What’s your favourite strip from there?

AY: I got a huge run of the re printed 2000AD and Dredd comics from a comic store when I was 13. I really love the old Rogue Trooper strips the most. They were some of the best sci fi war comics made essentially. Those artists were all emulating those old Action war comics they were reading

Rogue Trooper – War Machine by dave Gibbons and Will Simpson

Rogue Trooper – War Machine is a work of comics art. It definitely inspired a lot in my Blood Desert series. “The Fatties” stories in the early Judge Dredd strips are some of my all time favorite comics. I have read them a hundred times. It is just so nuts. I love that line between absurd and gross.

The Fatties – Judge Dredd

ZL – Oh yeah, those early works were really UK punk as punk can be! I’m surprised you like Rogue Trooper more than Nemesis though, Pat Mills and especially Kev O’Niell’s art is extreme as extreme art gets in comics back then. You mention in many interviews I’ve read that Japanese comics, particularly horror comics, have been an influence. How much influence do you see from Japanese horror comics in small press and self-publishing circles, it’s something I see a lot of in the creators I follow for sure, but I’m wondering what your experience is?

AY – I follow the underground Japanese scene pretty well. I am pen pals/friends with some of the newer japanese horror artists. It is funny. They all wanna get published here and I want to get published there. 

There are huge barriers in Japanese comics for Westerners. I would kill to get World of Knonx published in Japan. It is specifically designed and made for a world audience. It needs no translation. Manga publishers should be more open to Western comic artists the way we have.

I have grown very weary of all manga flooding the market lately. Most of it is just nicer formated versions of reprints of that older stuff I read in the 80s. It is not the weird upcoming stuff you see on the shelves. 

The American publishers bend over backwards to reproduce a lot of Manga but largely ignore American artists working at the same level of productivity. It has become a one way street. 

ZL – I see that a lot of publishers seem less inclined to have cartoony horror, they seem to have decide it must all be cheesecake or more realistic, I mean, you’re not going to see the likes of Shaun McManus on Swamp Thing art chores nowadays, which seems absurd because cartooning lets you play up emotions or gore without it getting all pornographic and seedy. I wonder if part of it is that as well, they want everything in that style. It’s also something that’s changed in horror as well. You think about something like Saw and how realistic those horror movie effects are compared to, say Friday the 13th, it’s changed what horror is. You could laugh at those things, not so much Saw, they’re far more EARNEST and wanting to show things REALISTICALLY.

AY- Yes! Exactly. I have been embracing the cartoon aspect of comics very heavily. Cartooning is dying in comic books not just in the horror scene. Comics have lost the ability to move the fans to a desired emotion.

I think it has to do with the industry’s reliance on writers. Artists are usually more creative and experimental than writers. Artists think in images and writers think in words. Writers can hammer out stories all day. The storytelling artist has to really think about every panel in a conscious way and how it will move the story. Images should drive comics not inane narrative. I should be able to understand the story in a comic by just looking at the art. If not then both the writer and artist have failed. Being able to type does not automatically make your stories interesting. Kirby’s cartooning made all those comics great not Stan and his stupid dialogue. 

  Personally I don’t wanna spend 12 hours drawing the perfect building in a panel that no one will care about. I wanna move the story. Cartooning creates a fluidity through the pages that perfect structure loses. Manga is great at moving you through a story in that way. 

ZL – So, in all of the ways you make things and with all of your feelings about being a part of US comics and international makers, what place do you see your new youtube videos playing into what you do? Is it more boredom relief or is it a way of pumping up awareness of the community you enjoy?

AY: I do the YouTube channel for fun and to shed light on independent creators. I also wanna try to create a new narrative in comics. Not just regurgitate the one fed to us by reactionary corporate comix culture.

ZL – Why the trash talking of something at the end? I ask because I have this pet theory that there’s a strong link between people doing underground comics currently, especially over the top gross out ones, and wrestling and I’m wondering whether that’s a bunch of nonsense I’ve made up, or whether this is like the trash talk between wrestlers, a funny sort of way to make a point about something, to build some low stakes drama? Or, is it a way to disarm a serious point by making it funny! 

AY: A little bit of both I guess. There is some carney action to all creatives who do it for a living. I think a long life as an artist hardens you. 

Comic book artists could learn a lot from Tattooists. Talk to a hardcase who has been making money everyday drawing. The one doing it in your hometown the longest. That is someone who can teach you a lot. They have had to put up with so much stupid shit from customers and society. They have a confidence and respect for their trade few artists do. They have real confidence that is inspiring. They won’t even fuck with some stupid walk-in. They are not gonna deal with some kid who wants a shitty Mickey Mouse tat. Some hokey fan art commission bullshit. People pay them good fucking money for their original style, skill and creativity. Comic artists conceded all that when they settled for being what amounts to storyboarders for ex-TV writers. 

Artists have to always remember Western society devalues you at every turn. You really have to learn to sell your art and self. Your skin better be real thick. You hear “no” and that “you will fail” constantly! You will work your ass off just to barely make it in most creative fields. 

ZL – Yeah, that really comes with the territory, especially if you’re coming at it from an underprivileged background, art seems to still be a very middle class opportunity and still seems to need strong patronage to make a living, so if you’re aren’t populist or aren’t from the right background you need to get money from somewhere else or learn to live cheap. 

AY – Starting out it is always a struggle in any field but comics has kind of embraced and even fostered failure among it’s creatives. A perfect example. No one with the talent level of Tim Vigil’s should ever be living in poverty. Which he pretty much is. If Tim started in tattoos he would probably be pretty set by now. Instead he chose to work in comics. 

ZL – You seem to be really knocking out your comics and developing an amazing backlist. I remember sharing a video where, I think that you were drawing a page from The Lottery, where you were filling in your spot blacks with this chunky dip pen nib and that just seemed like it would take a long time to get work done! So, I’m wondering whether you’ve changed up a gear and started doing lots of work, or am I just in circles where I’m seeing you pop up and you’ve been constantly busy for a long time?

AY – I mainly use a brush for large areas. Sometimes a fat nib. I have had the same process for the last 10 years. I have always had a pretty good work ethic with my art but my tools are just that. Lots of trial and error for the first 5-10 years. I had no one to help or any training. I am a lot faster at inking with some modern stuff but it is still the same process it has always been. I try to only work full time M-F 9-5. I love creating so much I get addicted to it. I will draw 18 hours straight if I am not careful. 

ZL – What inspired you to get making, not necessarily the style you make, but the actual circumstances behind you getting yourself together to put out comics instead of just sketching or posting online? What is the difference for you between posting online and publishing?

AY – Posting online is just a form of promo to me. Online is so ephemeral. I feel printed comics and animation is the best way to tell new stories and get them out. Period. It is hard to say what inspired me to start creating. I can tell you how I create though. 

I have always hated the idea of needing drugs, a muse or constant inspiration as motivation. It is not a sustainable model. It is a crutch for lazy artists to lean on. We all can learn skills and borrow from influences to make pretty art but real creativity comes from our imaginations. 

Clive Barker said it in interview after interview for years! He spoke of how fostering the imagination is being lost and even stifled in today’s world. He stressed the utmost importance for working artists and children to have an active and focused imagination. He is the greatest living horror artist of our age. The Poe of our time and everyone completely ignored him!!

Well I didn’t! I would meditate and do mental exercises daily for years to try and imagine whole working worlds. Clive was 100% right. I don’t get artists’ block or any of that shit. 

This is gonna sound super new age but it is the best way to explain it. With short meditation techniques I can light the fire of creativity instantly now. It can keep me awake some nights if I let it. My mind’s eye fills with the most moving and colorful images you could ever imagine. I have learned to embrace it and snatch stuff from the ether. It’s like a true form of art magick. When I break into the astral plane of endless creativity it recharges my inner being and overwhelms my soul with love, and joy. I am flooded with new ideas constantly. The Buddhists actually have a name for this place but the name escapes me. 

ZL – I remember reading that Moebius, Jean Giraud, the French comic artist took a similar approach, that he drew all his Moebius strips in a semi-conscious state of meditation, so it seems reasonable for you to do the same! 

AY – Exactly! I have read that and felt a kinship with him. I think Jim Woodring works in a similar fashion as well. 

ZL – Yeah, I’ve read that about Jim Woodring as well.

Looping back a second to The Lottery, I really admire the style of character design, the shapes you put down on the page, that I’ve seen in that. I’m guessing, from what you’ve just said, that much of these things arrive semi or fully formed? How much planning do you put into character design and story content and then could you give a general idea to how you approach a story and what you’re trying to achieve with your stories?

AY: Like I said prior, the initial ideas will come like a flood or in pieces. I will mentally “hang on” to my favorite ideas and build a story around them. Once I get most of it all sorted out in my brain I will do some general super loose thumbnails of a story or idea or the whole book. Sometimes I will start with a one shot style story and expand on it. The one shots will inspire more stories or ideas for other worlds as well. 

ZL – I know we touched on this earlier, but I’d like to dig deeper into whether you’re making money and what sort of sales you’re achieving, because, you know, I’m just damn nosey! More seriously though, I think part of making and why people cease making is an unrealistic idea of what can be achieved within an arena. The amount of people coming into comics and underground comix all thinking they’ll end up on Adult Swim or bankrolling a comfortable life always saddens me. You know they will get worn out banging their drum to sell 10 copies and lose hundreds because they completely over print. 

Which is a very tortured way of asking whether you make money from your comics or, at least break even? Are you happy to tell us numbers of sales and if not exact amounts of income, what sort of percentage of your income comes from your comic sales and for context, the kind of lifestyle you currently live?

AY: I grew up pretty poor. I was out on my own at around 17 with zero money. So it has not been an easy road for me in art and comics. I am not complaining, I have made good money off my comix.

I print modestly with print on demand services. I can print a few copies up to a few 100 at a time. It just depends on demand. You don’t need to have a warehouse of stuff. I focus on the stuff that does well.

It took a long time but I am in a great spot on my own. Because of the virus a lot of the mainstream crowd are kind of sitting around with their dicks in their hands. While I am hammering out stories. I am 100% owner of all my titles. I am not an LLC so a corporation can’t get my “creative content” without my direct consent. 

Luckily I don’t really need them. I have done the math, I make way more per page and book then I ever would with a publisher. I can create, print, promo, mail and repeat. I have no need for censors, editors, publishers, stores, mob run distro or other middle men. They are all just standing between me and making the profit from my books. 

No one will admit it, but the Cerebus model is still the best model for creators to sell their comics. If you are serious about ownership. More people should have the same faith in their work as Dave Sim does. Only without being a total jerk. 

ZL – I’m guessing your politics don’t mesh with his, but I think Dave Sim is definitely someone who has lessons for self-publishers and creators alike. If you were going to pass on any of his advice, how would you summarise what you’ve taken from his example?

AY – His politics aside he was pretty cantankerous in most of his interviews but he was not afraid to speak his mind. Everyone is so afraid to speak up in fear of never getting or keeping that “sweet corporate comics gig”. 

Dave was right about a lot of stuff. If you can’t stand up for your own work then who will? Before I started reading all his interviews I thought he was just a jerk but now I kind of get his anger. I could only imagine what the mainstream tried to pull back then when they saw he wouldn’t play ball. What’s worse is nothing has changed really. All the shit he was raving about in comics is the same or even worse. 

I think he was really hated by the industry when he started speaking out about all the shadiness going on. It always felt the comics press started attacking his political stances after he started to state his opinions about the practices of some of these publishers. I don’t agree with him on a lot of stuff politically but he never backed down and stayed true to his ideals. I admire him for that. 

Comics has a long sordid history of trying to silence voices they don’t want to hear. It has happened to me and many others still to this day.

ZL – How long has it taken to build up your back catalogue and what sort of tail end do you currently see on your titles, are we talking release and then forget it, sustained sales over months/years or occasional bumps when you get new titles out?

AY – It took 20 years to build the whole catalogue of large format stuff. I have printed 100s of different minis along the way. I now just mainly sell my larger format floppy and magazine stuff that does well continuously. I do have a goal to be able to fill a whole small magazine size comic book box with all my different floppy comics and mags. 

ZL – And how far away from that goal are you? 

AY – I have never actually checked. I would say I am well over halfway there. 

ZL – How do your sales and income compare to where you thought you’d be when you first started making your comics or did you not really care about that, other than not losing money?

AY: It is a weird thing that exists in indie comics. It is like they are ashamed of making money. 

You hear so much altruism in indie comics. “It is not always about the money man.” Tell that dumb shit to a career tattooist. They will laugh in your stupid face while they make $200 bucks an hour and drive off in their fully customized Dodge Challenger. While you stand there with a handful of comics and empty pockets. 

We should look at indy comics like tattooing or a little like a one man touring metal band or rap act. People wanna buy my books for my nutty unique style. So, yeah I am doing better than I ever could have dreamed of in such a dismal backwards looking field. I would rather be like a Tech 9 or Frank Zappa in comics. 

ZL – Last question, for you as a fan now, if you could get everyone in the world to read one of your books or series and a book or series by someone else, what would it be?

AY: Out of all my books I would say the World of Knonx series is my crowning achievement. I dumped every skill I have developed into one massive tale.

Park Bench – by Christophe Chabouté. It is one of the most amazing comics made in the last few years. It is one of the most beautiful comics ever made. It flows like water. It is the zen of comix. I cried the first time I read It. 

Park Bench – by Christophe Chabouté

I only make silent or wordless comics. So that is mainly what I am into. It is more common in European comics. So I try to mainly follow works coming from there. 

Comics should move us and excite us. Gross you out or move you to a new place emotionally. Not just be inane 80s TV sitcom serials. I am only interested in comics that exist and aspire to be comics. I have no interest in storyboards with dialogue. 

ZL – Thanx for your time Adam!

AY- Thanks for this in-depth interview. It is not often I get to talk deeply about things in comix that I care about. I never really get to explain how I create or how I truly feel about the medium.

I am grateful for the opportunity to speak my mind. To everyone who has ever supported me and my art. I truly frikkin’ love you all!! 

all art copyright and trademark its respective owners.

content copyright iestyn pettigrew 2020

  Adam Yeater, underground comix creator, talks in depth about his practice, his work and how comics remains closed to many outside of mainstream companies #comics #horror #underground #selfpublishing #fantasy #inspiration We spoke to Adam a little while ago about his influences and inspirations and found his answers intriguing, so we decided to dive in and dig a bit deeper.

[teddystrap]

Drama CD: [幽幻ロマンチカ・真骨頂] ≁Bakeneko Arahagi・Inugami Toneri≁

No audio track this time sorry! But anyway, I’ve made sizeable progress on the Yuuroma series: Hifumi + Utashiro’s Hatenkou, Zakuro, Toneri, and a bunch of tokuten for everybody (/*^-^)/. I’ll do the 2nd Shinkocchou first, for continuity.

And I haven’t listened to the two individual discs before this, so I had no idea who they are... or that their names are actually Arahagi (cat demon; cv. Kaji Yuuki) and Toneri (dog deity; cv, Hirakawa Daisuke) until about 3/4 into the story, since they kept calling each other ‘Stupid Cat’ and ‘Stupid Dog’. Orz

Obvsly this time there is no bromance like in the 1st disc and they fight like... err... cats and dogs (for lack of a better description XD).

As before, hidden messages from the both of them:

１．壱、都市伝説『二次元カレシ』 ２．弐、手が<か>りはどこ？ ３．参、そこは見せか<け>の幸福世界 ４．四、ここにず<っ>といよう ５．伍、意地でも負<け>られない ６．六、この世界が壊れ<る>としても ７．七、 都市伝説『二次元カレシ』看破 ８．キャストトーク

Arahagi: bold⋆ spells 「どこにでも」 (‘No matter where [you are]...’)

Toneri: <⋆> spells 「かけつける」 (‘...I will rush to your side’)

...うれしいィィ！！ありがとね、二人とも～^^

*

[The Second Rumour: Urban Legend ‘2D Boyfriend’]

All the girls at your school are addicted to a mobile otome game app. Rumour has it that players can end up getting trapped in the game world, and their bodies are found in sleeping position holding their phones in one hand.

Toilet Guy has again asked Arahagi and Toneri to investigate. This time your team name is: the Pitch-Black Executors ~DARK (K)NIGHT MESSIAH~. Σ_(꒪ཀ꒪」∠)_. And both your animal manservants have the good sense to hate this abomination of a name. But it will come in handy later on...

So. First order of business is to throw *you* into the virtual world. It’s been rumoured that collecting a full set of accessories from one game character can accomplish this, so your animal bfs possess your body and go shopping.

They push a bunch of bling on you (Toneri makes you wear a choker that reminds him of a dog collar XD), and eventually you can’t take it anymore and run out of the store because you don’t wanna turn into the lovechild of Katy Perry and Flavor Flav. And anyway it didn’t work. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ RIP Operation BringTheBling1.

Plan #2: There is another rumour that players get sucked in when they access the app at midnight. So Catboy and Dogman (henceforth ‘CatDog’) camp over in your bed, and sure enough, when the clock strikes 12, you fall into a deep sleep and enter the game world.

The game is set in a high school that’s an *exact* replica of Nanagiri, with two characters who sound (and look) exactly like your Cat and Dog bfs. [Hirarin is the senpai and Kaji is the kouhai, ofc.] You are shocked by this unfolding of events, and the two of them think you have a cold and need to go to the nurse’s office to rest.

You take this as an opportunity to escape, and as you are running you hear Arahagi and Toneri’s voices from the other side. They successfully possess your sleeping body and enter the virtual world as well.

Senpai and Kouhai can see the demons possessing you. They forcibly exorcise the duo and drag you away. As the exorcised duo come to, they find themselves turned into their chibi forms XDD. Meanwhile, Senpai and Kouhai have taken you to the nurse’s office. As they are trying to approach you, you spray the fire extinguisher at them and make your escape. Niceee.

You manage to find Arahagi and Toneri hiding in the courtyard. They repossess your body to regain their powers and apologise for not being able to protect you. But you have come up with a battle plan: Operation LoveLetter1. Dun dun DUNNN.

The plan is to put a love letter in their shoe locker asking Senpai and Kouhai to meet with you next evening. Being in an otome game, they can only do as they are told to unlock the love event. (Also what is with this 3P-harem setting where you can confess and unlock event for two characters at once?? I need to get in on dis yo. ¬‿¬)

You and CatDog stay up all night to discuss the battle plan, and Arahagi thinks this whole game reeks of the work of a human being. He figures out that they can rob the game characters of their powers by stealing their phones. (Why do even the characters have phones inside the game??) And to power-up themselves, CatDog trade hugs and kisses with each other (I WISH!!) you to feed off of your human energy.

Next day, Senpai and Kouhai show up at the arranged meeting time, and CatDog appear to start a riot. They throw out your team name Pitch-Black Executors ~DARK (K)NIGHT MESSIAH~, which confuses their opponents and gives them the perfect opportunity to steal the opponents’ phones.

Toneri ties the two characters up with chains and Arahagi drops a bunch of machinery and shit on top of them, but dis ain’t ovah ya’ll. The two of them go into *dark mode*. They change the backdrop and damage the data of Arahagi and Toneri’s bodies. As they bury CatDog alive and take you away, you tell them that you believe in CatDog, which gives them the power they need to free themselves from entombment and destroy the game characters.

...When the smoke clears, they see a student that was sucked into the game world. Strangely enough, *it’s a boy*, and they figure that he must be the human that the game monster is possessing and feeding off of.

It turns out that the boy offered himself as a human sacrifice to the urban legend and created this game world to shield his younger sister from the harsh reality. The game world begins to disintegrate, and Toneri tells the boy to face his sister properly instead of doing this stupid shit in the name of ‘protection’. To Toneri and Arahagi, who come into this world all alone, every little detail of the familial bonds and ties between humans seems magical and deserves to be treasured.

The three of you wake up in your bed, and CatDog wonder if the boy’s little sister is going to be alright. You devise a plan... for the two of them to appear to her in a dream pretending to be the two game characters. Toneri flubs his lines and gets beaten up by Arahagi XD. They tell the girl they are relieved that she has finally awoken from her slumber, and invite her to play the game again whenever she is feeling down.

Now a new urban legend has arisen: that whenever a girl gets sucked into the game world, her 2D boyfriend tells her to get out or else she won’t make it to her own wedding in the future. (#meirl XDD.) What’s more, CatDog have erased the oniisan’s memories of the whole incident, and both he and his sister have returned to school as usual.

*Meanwhile*, YOU have become addicted to this game app XD. After unsuccessfully trying to snatch your phone out of your hands, CatDog tease you with kisses and promise to make your real life more exciting than any game ever... yes please Hirarin and Kaji the two of you can come and possess me any time I don’t mind fufufufu~~~ (´┓`*)

*

[Thoughts] ⋆敬称��⋆

Ok so this was my first introduction to both characters (Arahagi/Toneri). I kept thinking as I was listening to it: wouldn’t it be great if Kaji and Hirarin switched roles? Doesn’t it feel like Kaji has more of an excitable puppy-like personality (or quality to his voice, rather), and Hirarin has more of a slow, cat-like temperament??

In fact in the Free Talk when Hirarin said that he is 100% a Cat Person and he thinks Arahagi is really cute, I was all ready to jump out of my chair all like, ‘I KNEW IT!!!’ #notoverreactingatall._(:3」∠)_. ...I guess Rejet wanted to switch it up a little? Or maybe Kimura Ryouhei was busy, because Toneri [yandere + dog ears] sounds like the job for him. Also I can’t help but wonder how perfect Hirarin would be as Utashiro lulling me to sleep with his soothing voice...

(*ฅ́˘ฅ̀*)♡

But all this fantasy casting aside, every time I hear Toneri’s adorable grumpy/growling noises that he makes when he’s dissatisfied, I feel like they made the right casting choice after all. #omgWANT ლ(⁰⊖⁰ლ)

What else, what else... HmMMmMmm, the story and characters/pair dynamics this time round is a bit more childish and less ‘tight’ than before. So idk, I didn’t feel as much of *Deh Romantic Feelz* towards Arahagi/Toneri like I did for Hifumi/Utashiro. Although I still enjoyed it because I am immature.

The doppelganger bit was pretty kewl though. Although the battle scene kind of got resolved in a very #WTF kind of way and left me wanting more. Also the overprotective older brother story would’ve benefited from a better explanation/backstory of why he did what he did, no? Overall just kind of #わけわかんない, and not a very tight story, like I said.

The otome game theme was kind of relevant and interesting, esp the senpai character in the game who kept emphasising the use of this kind of romance fantasies as a form of escapism. ...Which got a bit philosophical/personal in a way, although I’m not sure if Toneri was the best person to expound on this because he’s so... erm... simple-minded XD.

Nonetheless, the overall message was clear: that it’s always better to face things head-on, and you have limitless potential as a human being. +++

But *then again* this series isn’t meant to be analysed very deeply. It’s more just for ya’ll to enjoy the cute huggable chibi things and the powerful demons protecting the fuck out of you. Yeah? Yeahh.

Although!! From the cast commentaries it seems like the seiyuu themselves can’t/won’t actually protect you from anything in the event of an actual urban legend/haunting. It’s funny how they voice all these powerful/scary demon and spirit characters, but when they see an actual horror programme or whatever on TV they quickly look away and change the channel!! (-_-|||) SENSEI I AM DISAPPOINT. 

The only exception so far is Sakurai Takahiro, who spouted off a bunch of kaidan-banashi from his old high school enthusiastically when asked. Like, everyone else is a wimp and he is the One True Hero. He even has ‘he[/i]ro’ in his name!!