Archive for the 'Not Another Fucking Love Story' Category

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VII – Patientia (Patience) – Three Days Ago

Sunday, May 25th, 2014

Mental Note: NEED TO KEEP WORKING ON THIS!
Sketch art and characters are from my bittery dick of a pal at http://ugisart.com/. He also has these really funny comics for sale at http://futurelandfillpress.bigcartel.com

Mother

VII – Patientia

While the Curia Nocte sit gathered at the Apostolic See of St. Simon, Mother Death is escorted by Lord Hat through the catacombs to the chamber. Lord Hat has slowed his pace to match her frail speed. Neither the shadow man nor the Mother require a torch, and instead make their way through the darkness in near silence. It’s rare that the Curia requests her formal presence at their chamber, and the messenger was very vague about the purpose of their meeting. Whispers of the pope’s illness had already reached them, but it was clear the Camerlengo was concealing the true nature of events. Lord Hat was the first to step from the shadows and appear before the council. In the dim torchlight, he was nothing but the silhouette of a form as he addressed the Curia Nocte.

“Presenting Mother Death.”

She moved slowly into the light, first appearing as nothing but rags and shadows like her Lord escort. As the light filled under her shroud, the cracks and crevices of her exposed skull could be seen. Her hands withered down to the bone and grit of cartilage like the rest of her shrunken figure, but much larger than the rest of her frame. The deep sockets that used to hold eyes and nose stayed a shadowy void as if the light dared not enter. Her jaw remained, but had stretched unnaturally wide filled in with the rotting ivory stubbs of what were once full teeth. To the few cardinals among them seeing her for the first time, the shivering feel of decay seemed to emanate from those dark gaps staring forward at them like the void of death itself.

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Synod Horrenda – Seda Vecante (II – Fidgit)

Wednesday, February 5th, 2014

In the hopes that I continue working on this soon, I’m posting a raw section of Synod Horrenda. Sketch art and characters are from my bittery dick of a pal at http://ugisart.com/. He also has these really funny comics for sale at http://futurelandfillpress.bigcartel.com

Fidgit3

II – Fidgit

“Life is messy and people stink. Like diarrhea stains on the grundle of the world, we’re all just waiting to be wiped out. I think that’s why the end of days is such a popular trope. It’s comforting to think that all the pain, struggle and obligations will burn away, but I’m not so sure. I’ve dipped my dick in death, and for whatever reason I’m still here. I’m a walking example of all the ways a person shouldn’t act, and despite everything I’ve done, the sleep won’t come. I can’t help but laugh whenever I hear about tragedy: a happy family killed by a drunk driver, a fitness instructor getting an embolism at 45. And for all the suffering in the world, miserable cocks like us are free to run around unfettered sticking needles into our arms and our pricks into anything that wiggles and won’t say ‘no.’”

Fidgit moves his jacket aside and sticks the needle between a couple dirty bandages rust stained with dried blood. Wrapped around his chest and next to his heart, his ‘skin’ is a decomposing mess. The dirty wrappings covering his body contain the decay. The few cracks in the coverings let his spiked hair, rotting jaw and a single strained eye socket poke through.  He squeezes the plunger and, for a few moments, finds a hypodermic heaven.

“And if you don’t like me, that’s fine, but you’d be blind to think we’re any different. If you even have eyes, I guess.” Read the rest of this entry