Oh To Have A Silly Little House Like This...

a little bloody mary comic idea I had last halloween

[image ID: a four page digital comic.

panel 1: a thin woman with long dark hair and light skin is seen from behind sitting in front of a vanity mirror in a room full of mirrors. text placed on the back of her head reads, "lots of people know my name."

panel 2: a group of school girls gather around a mirror in a dark school bathroom lit with candles as one of them writes "bloody mary" on the mirror. text on one of the girls' backs reads, "I get calls all the time."

panel 3: the girls run out of the bathroom screaming. text: "but no one is ever happy to see me."

panel 4: a curvy person with light skin and a partially shaved head half-laid out on the floor of a bedroom looks startled as bloody mary emerges from a full-length mirror in front of them. text: "when they don't run away[...]"

panel 5: the person is shown from behind as they hold up a polaroid to bloody mary. text: "they ask me, hunched and trembling, to perform curses and hexes for them."

panel 6: bloody mary shown halfway through a mirror. text: "I never quite know how to respond."

panel 7: bloody mary has her head down on her vanity desk. text: "no one ever calls just to see me."

panel 8: a darker-skinned hand with long black nails writes bloody mary's name on a mirror with red lipstick in a candlelit room. text: "no one[...]"

panel 9: bloody mary emerges from the mirror in front of a darker-skinned woman with two buns and red lipstick, who is smiling. no text.

panel 10: bloody mary is shown up close as the woman tucks mary's hair behind he ear, showing more of her ghostly face, and a bright red lipstick kiss mark on her cheek. text: "except her."

panel 11: bloody mary sits in her mirror room admiring the kiss mark on her cheek with a hand mirror. no text. end ID.]

This is the only tiktok you’ll ever need, I’ve made about 13 of these and I’m not stopping anytime soon

Here’s HSTHETE, the 24 hour comic I drew this year!  Thanks to everybody who followed along on twitter this weekend as I posted these pages <3

Sometimes

Sometimes I wish I listened to my

Heart

Drive till I can’t see anymore

Break into abandoned factories

All while making molotov cocktails in a car that

Doesn’t exist

Only companion

Is the guilt that meows

Softly from behind dirty glasses

Telling me that I could have saved the world.

How can a person save anything

If the only thing they want to do

Is for their dead heart to Beat?

These are so similar to vessels I made in a D&D game! I am in awe of how beautiful they look

Gregory Fromenteau on Instagram

New Works of Basil Hallward (part 1 of 2).

Go to Part 2.

II

'Like a dog after it has run through barley,' say my fingers, tips grazing the scalp and sending small shocks through my gut. The oil is rubbed between hungry pads as I find the brush, so lost it had started to comb the bunnies from behind the dresser. Tangles grip with like damned souls, each bristle the ferryman's boat as it steers through the reeds and the mire. The water blanches into stagnant color, rivulets standing out as veins against the floor, all slugging their way to the pit. Steel falters to cut the twisting coils as each viper is measured and found wanting, resulting in tutting and sucked air. Treated silver and baked glass form the edges of the scrying pool that scries the slaying done today. "There's my girl!"

se on kaunista kirjoittamasi sanat

I mold myself like clay.

Thumb impressions smeared across my skin from stretching myself for others.

I make myself malleable, easily adaptable.

I will craft myself into whatever you want me to be.

and I will never ask you

- [i.r.]

[06.23.21.]

Avoir un coup de foudre, encore

I had not seen you for such a long time. The sun has caressed your body, tanning your curves that your new style clings to as lovers at the edge of ecstasy. Gravity itself tips in your direction, heads turning, eyes feasting as you stride to the dance floor, the gold in the chandelier losing luster compared to your sheen. Even from the sides I can smell your perfume, wrenching myself away from the scenes playing behind my eyes as siren song to Odysseus. My soul calls to hart, to bound away before this predator could sense our gaze, but your claws slide over my shoulder sending me stock still, the crowd calling that I know the dances you seek. Your voice purrs and hums in my ears, and I am clay under your exquisite hands, guided to first position with our fingers interlocked. The first dance I am shaky, nervous and at a nadir of confidence; it has been too long, I am too eager, I am too much in my head. Unsure sounds escape your throat, even a yelp with my trip - still your smile would refocus me, your eyes laughing and playful. The second was rote but easy, neither of us straining, yet neither of us bored. The third dance, we are alone again. My fingers trace your throat as your laugh knows you have won. The song is difficult, the moves igniting fires in our limbs; still we twirl about each other, your voice clear, perfect, sweet, as I grow hotter, enamored with you all over again. Then it is over, both of us trembling within a mist of applause. You are led away to your case, your strings being loosened, the rosin tapped and wiped off. I lay a hand on your shoulder, silently promising that soon, we shall play again.