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CircusMask
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Country: United States
State: New York
Metro: Albany
Interests: Literature, music, geography, photography, book repair, and masks.
Expertise: Social sciences.
Occupation: Graduate Student
Message: message me
Member Since:
1/27/2004
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| Checkmate.
There's a sound that keeps repeating: check, check. You turn around and look for the source, but you just can't find it. Check, check. The more you hear it, the more it sounds curiously like clockwork. But clockwork is gone, you think. The sound, the check, check, is persistent, however -- persistent and close by. How long has this been going on? A week or more?
At first I didn't believe you, but then I heard it myself. Check, check -- just around the corner, from the floor at the foot of the armchair, from the stem of the ceiling fan: check, check, just like that. And it does sound remarkably like clockwork's terse little calls, the ones between the mechanical screeching that haunted our mornings all those weeks.
It wasn't until I turned on the light that I realized where the sound was coming from -- but in that instant, the sly young shadow darted out of sight.
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| Gears.
Something has happened to clockwork. It started a few days ago when his call began to sound somehow different. His usual mechanical screech became a whine, and the whine became a shriek, and the shriek became a series of strained clunks, as though something were holding back the gears in his belly. The next day, there was no sign of him.
Yesterday I went walking and came across his body. I'm sure it was his: sleek and black, but torn open to reveal shining brass gears inside. I don't know if it's possible to say that clockwork is dead, but that was my first thought. My second was, looks like a cat got him; my third was, that's last way I expected him to go.
As I stood there dumbfounded, a black shape swooped down from a branch. In a flash, it snatched something from clockwork's carcass and launched itself back into the sky. It took a moment to get my bearings again, and in that moment I noticed two things: crow laughing, and the small, shiny key dangling from his beak.
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| Fun stuff!
So, today I finished typing up my notes for issue one of the comic book. I've got notes extending partway into issue two, but it will probably take ages to finish it up. Anyway, the main thing is, it involves werewolves.
I'm willing to send it as a PDF to whoever wants to preview it. I'm interested in finding out whether y'all think it's utter crap or shows some potential.
Who's game?
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| Return.
Crow has returned. I saw him just yesterday, back in his old haunt. He cocked his head at me and blinked, ruffled his wings a little as I stopped and stared at him. He seemed to wonder where you were. He looks good, especially given the distance he must have traveled -- feathers an inky black, eyes shining, wings and tail like they'd been newly minted.
I was just about to walk away when I noticed something odd: someone has tagged him. There's a red-orange tag around one ankle, and a white one around the other. Crow doesn't seem to mind the tags -- or if he does, he doesn't show it. Ask him and he might laugh, as if he knows something you don't. And, of course, none of us would be surprised if that were actually the case.
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| Been eaten by life. Back in a few days with more installments of the "unseen" series, and maybe some alternate mangatars.
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