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CH 1 PG 36
Infested will return on June 27th.
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DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.
A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:
The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).
It took two years to get to this point.
And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).
This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.
I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.
So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.
Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.
I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.
Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.
And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;
"Hey. You're gonna be alright."
Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.
Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."
Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.
So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.
I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.
I'm extremely grateful for all of you.
So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.
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Journey - May Prompts (30)
[Finally: an end to the blanket saga! This ficlet will make sense if you’ve read Blanket, Intuition, and Empty, in that order.]
“You did.”
These words are the first of many. They sit together in Sherlock’s room as the afternoon sunlight darkens into amaranth, burnt tangerine, then deep-sea blue, as the quiet hush of evening slips over them like a blanket.
How could you not have known?
How could I have guessed?
Back and forth like this for hours, they use words as blades and balms.
Not gay.
Just transport.
Not a couple.
Married to work.
Couldn’t bear it.
Kept it secret.
Didn’t know.
Couldn’t lose you.
Broke my trust.
Broke my heart.
Had a relapse.
So did I.
Why’d you lie.
Wanted more.
From the beginning.
Me too.
Always you.
As they talk, the tiny square travels between their hands, is thumbed at absentmindedly on its final journey. They tell each other about unravellings, about grief, about pieces cut out and hidden, about waiting.
At last it falls apart.
They hold the little threads and then they hold each other.
When the time comes, it’s mutually agreed. An unusual request, the jeweler remarks, but doable. Two strands of Irish wool, dyed grey and white and red, disappear forever into two gold rings.
“There’s a metaphor in there, somewhere,” John says.
Sherlock laughs and kisses him.
The blanket stays on the chair, the chair stays in the flat, and the love never leaves.
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Thanks to @jolieblack for the inspiration to finish this little quartet!
Thank you to @calaisreno for the fun prompt series! Tags in replies. Thanks for reading! <3
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WIP WEDNESDAY
Scott tries to stare him down, but Virgi’s weathered many such contests of will. Those piercing blue eyes, the brow with a slight furrow of stubbornness and lips pinched to a thin line so his dimples barely show work on many people. Alan never lets it get that far, giving in way before Scott turns on the steel gaze. Gordon doesn’t know how to deal with it yet, and usually gives up somewhere under the thirty second mark. John, as far as Virgil can make out, deals with it in the same fashion as children and cats do anything they don’t like: if I can’t see it, it doesn’t exist. And then carries on doing whatever it is he wanted in the first place.
Virgil just, doesn’t give in. He only engages when he has to so no matter how stern Scott looks – no matter how much like their father Scott looks – Virgil can not back down. There’s no where to back down to; his back’s against the metaphorical wall and he’s staying put.
(I'm open to any feedback on this section. This is so new the ink isn't still dry and I'm not quite sure if it flows yet, so feel free to jump in with any comments on it!)
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