Friday, May 28, 2010

Of Pertaining to Comedy: Episode 2

So here comes Episode 2. Click here for the full view.



A little behind the scenes if you may.

So the first one got a little views, and I decided, what the heck let's make another. So here it is. The SHF Kabuto figure used here was lent to me by a good friend.

And The Machine Porkator is back! This time with his buddy the Machine Baconator, which is a heck of a lot more efficient in terms of fat mileage. The same may not go with RX's brain.

See you in the next ride!

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Thursday, May 27, 2010

Of Pertaining to Comedy: Episode 1

Read more to see the first of its kind. Or click here for the full view




A little behind the scenes if you may.

Kamen Rider Black RX is an SHF action figure given to me by a good friend. I was bored so I decided to take a spin at writing and making comics again, this time using pose-able figures instead of, you know, actual art. I guess it turned out okay for the most part, besides being devoid of all comedy.

Anyway, the title is actually from the meaning of the Greek etymology of the word comics, komikos. Until I find a new home for these comics, they will reside here, and will have their own category.

Until then, see you in the next Ride! Hopefully not in a Machine Porkator. (Which is now trademarked by they way, by me.)

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Saturday, May 22, 2010

From An Other's Eyes: Dark Corridors

Where the trail ends, the music stops. Where the music stops, life ceases. Survival is the name of the game; not getting caught is the only rule. It's either you complete your mission, or "they" get you, the choice is entirely on your hands.


Every corner you navigate, every turn you make, makes you feel a sense of urgency, a sense of unknowing certainty. Each dead end you come across and each long corridor terrifies you to death but urges you to go on. Fear becomes adrenalin, adrenalin that fuels you to go further. The farther you go, the more dangerous the turns become, the more unpredictable the peril. Insinuating more fear. Restarting the madness.

Urging you. Consuming you.

Until finally, there would be nothing left.

Ghosts of insanity haunt you, taking your life, stealing your breath. Their perceived absence entices you to move forward, their ubiquitous presence drives you back. Running is futile; you know they will get you somehow. But running is all you could do.

Running. For your life.

While the ghosts taunt you and drive you insane.

The game ends once you've gathered all the fragments of your broken self. Each fragment gets you closer to your goal; each piece gets you closer to your final destination. Every once in a while you come upon a shred of your former glorious self, and for a second, you get the urge to fight back. To fight back the ghosts and drive them away; a few minutes of rest to gather back your broken sanity. But once that reprieve is over, you would be driven back.

Back to running. Back to insanity. Back to fear.

Back to the addicting adrenaline that draws you further in.

Deeper and deeper the game calls on to you, drawing forth your very last breath, your very last ounce of strength. It calls on to you. It asks you. It demands you to collect every last fragment, every last shred. And when each one has been collected, each tiny fragment accounted for, the music stops.

And the game starts anew.

This is my life. This is my game. I am...

Pac Man.

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Friday, April 30, 2010

Deus Ex Machina

I was lucky to have survived that fall.

First Shiine, now Chacha as well; just what is going on here? It's been the better part of a decade since I last saw them; I had resigned myself to never see them again. But like a cruel cosmic joke, there they were! Or at least, there was Shiine and Chacha, but not how I remembered them.

It's all happening way too fast...

"Are you awake?" I heard a voice ask.

"Yes, I think I am, unless I'm hearing strange voices in my dreams. What happened?"

"Most of your bones are broken, your skin has been fried and torn up, you lost half the blood in your body and still you manage to be cynical huh? Well, I saw you unconscious on the shore so I brought you here." The voice answered.

"Here? Where is here?" I said, trying to get up. The pain wouldn't let me.

"Don't try to get up yet, you're ribs got badly beaten up and broken. It should take you a month, maybe two to heal."

"And you plan on keeping me here until then? What do you want in return?"

"Depends, I could just probably rip you open and examine your organs, maybe sell them to scalpers. I heard shape shifters like you are a rare breed. You heart would fetch a handsome amount..."

"Why you..." was my pathetic attempt at a reply. I heard her chuckle in response.

"I'm just kidding! Give me a little credit here; I did save your life! By the way, I haven't formally introduced myself. I'm Aiushtha, a forest dryad. Or at least I once was. And to answer your previous question, you are now in Crying Eagle. I've been living here ever since those stonedwellers destroyed my former home."

"Crying Eagle huh..."

"Yup! Legend has it that they got the name from the weird noise the birds made when they tore their way through the woods where they built this city. It sort of sounded like eagles crying, or at least, that was what the legend said. Still, the thought of it kind of makes you sad huh?"

"Yeah..."

"I'm sorry to be bothering you with these useless sentiments. Those woods... Was actually where I used to live. I won't be able to forgive those greedy stonedwellers, but there really isn't much I could do then and now."

"I see..." was all I could muster. It's been forever since I last talked to someone, never mind having to comfort them at the same time.

"Well, anyway, don't worry about it. Make yourself at home until your injuries heal. That should be in about a week or so."

"I thought you said it'd take a month!"

"Nah, it would but you're gravely underestimating me. You see, I specialize in healing magic. It's been a while though since I last used them, so I might have grown a little rusty. If I were in my prime, you'd be up and running in no time!"

"I see, thank you- Aiushtha was it?"

"Yup! But it's unfair that you know my name and I don't know yours."

I couldn't help but grin.

"I'm Riiya, the White Wolf. Pleasure to meet you... If I wasn't hurting like hell right now."

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From An Other's Eyes Episode 2: Raven Hair

Those crazed, panicked words kept playing over and over in my head; angry words that are terrified and at the same time devastated, calling on a name whose owner did not respond. I still cannot believe what had just happened. He must have been playing us for a fool all this time! That name and face, bullshit. He could've easily wiped us all out; he didn't need a name or a face!

All he needed was a reason.

"He's dead."

Those words were the final nail to the coffin. Come to think of it, we might all end up in one very soon. I wished I had heard wrong, but the image of him falling over, eyes blanking out, fingers gingerly clutching cutlery; there's just no denying it. And we would most likely be next. The murderer who did this must be laughing his ass out right now! Shit shit shit...

"Reaper! Where are you?!? Show yourself! You must know something about this!"

That's right! He- it must know what had happened. It's been missing for some time now; certainly it must have had something to do with all this. I may not be all that sharp, but looking back, that thing disappeared just prior to his death. Has he been in cahoots with that demented murderer? In any case, he- it must be found. For our sake, it must be found.

"Everyone look at this!"

What the hell is this? Sand? How could there have been sand here, and this much? This could have easily destroyed all the sensitive electronic devices we've been using in this investigation, so how could there be this much sand in here? Has this been lying around here all this time? It just doesn't add up!

"Whoever did this... I will avenge his death."

Cold. His words, no, his entire being is cold. As cold as death.

"Only by solving this case will I bid him farewell."

Is he nuts? Is this kid trying to get us all killed? I don't care if he's the director's son, but putting all our lives in danger, he must be out of his mind!

"Mister Matsuda, if you are afraid of getting killed, I suggest that you leave..."

"No of course not! I'm not quitting of course... Please Light, you're starting to sound like Ryuuzaki!"

Looks like I'm going to be part of this shit after all. That son-of-a-bitch Light, I swear one day I'm gonna shoot him dead.

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Thursday, April 29, 2010

Of Corianders and Forget-Me-Nots

"Why did you come back?" she said, a smoke tucked expertly between slender fingers.

Silence mostly occupied the dank room. She had been sitting quietly, having lit her first cigarette. The first of many.

"Why shouldn't I?" he said, reclining.

"Is it love?"

"You put it too bluntly."

The night had been filled with sensations and delights, as was the custom. No subtle words are needed to describe this room of pleasure, it is as it is: a brothel room. A room for sex.

She had been employed as a vagina for hire. While it is natural to hate the job, she draws pleasure from what little she can get from it. After all, being paid for sex is awesome right? Why mope over your pitiful existence if there's nothing you can do about it? Why cry if you can enjoy? Isn't that what sex is for anyway?

He had been her patron. While she has locked genitals with many others, his in particular had been the most familiar. He works by day as a small-scale businessman, nothing illegal or anything. After all, his meager income does brings food to the table; and with his wife and kids away, the only mouth he has to feed is his own.

"You know that I do..." he said coyly, rolling over and facing her, gazing at her sultry body.

She took a long hard sip. Menthol quickly filled her breath.

"Honey... I love you... There I said it..." nudging himself toward her. The bed groaned and creaked in protest.

Grey wisps of tobacco vapor filled the void immediately in front of her. The wisps swayed and danced like sprites in a frenzy.

Silence once again.

"I've had that shit so many times. I'm a whore you know, I've heard that phrase all too many times. I love you this, I love you that. Do you honestly think I even give those words any value?" she said, her moving lips being the only hint that the words indeed came from her.

He remained silent. Out of words or out of will, he couldn't even figure out.

A knock on the door signalled their borrowed time of bliss is over. Rising up, he headed for the shower to freshen up. She was about finished with her third stick.

As he headed for the exit, he left quite a sum of money on a plate atop a bedside drawer. The rolled notes slowly unraveled as he turned the knob on the door. The old pins and pinions inside the knob made a distinct noise metallic noise as he slowly inched the door ajar.

"Will... You be back tomorrow?" she asked, her eyes still locked in oblivion, slender fingers still clutching a smoke.

"Maybe..."

Much like everything inside that room of sensations, the door made painful noises as it opened. He took a step forward, toward the hall leading back to the reception counter where other patrons were waiting for their turn. Toward the road that leads back to his small townhouse unit. Toward reality.

"Take care then..." she said.

The stick slipped through her slender fingers. She headed for the shower to freshen up.

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Monday, February 8, 2010

Invitation

If there was one thing you wanted to have, anything at all, what would it be?

For me, well, I already know what I want to have, it's just that, there is no way anyone or anything would be able to fulfill it.

After all, the opportunity just passed me by, even as I tried to grab it.

Don't get me wrong though, I'm not being arrogant. If anything, I'm not one to be arrogant. I wasn't much of a bright nugget in my short stint in school. Not very athletic either. You could say I'm one of the hundreds of students that do not stand out at all, and I'd really rather not. I'm not one to pick a fight either; never was I the bully, and only occasionally was I ever bullied. Not to say I didn't have friends or the sort, I do of course. After all, I am a normal student, but I guess I took normal to a whole new level. Hey, maybe because of that I'm actually something else! But meh, whatever.

Well, either way, school wasn't that enjoyable for me. It became even less enjoyable (and somehow awkward) upon my entry to secondary education. See, in our school, virgin graduates are an urban legend. Somehow, before one graduates from the High school I'm attending, everyone gets screwed, if you know what I mean. That aside, High School was, what they say, the golden age of students. This is where first loves are met, first dates are set and the first *ehem* in bed.

I'd kill to bring back those years.

But like they say, a wasted day is a spent day (or something like that, I'm no sage); there's just no turning back the clock. So I graduated from high school, had my first love, broke up just before graduation but not without the last tirade. I got honors and a few medals here and there, a fitting reward for my diligence.

Except, all that didn't actually happen.

I never had a first tirade, heck, never even made it to first base (wherever that is). I tried dating a few girls from my level, but not one of them was really my type (or vice versa... I think it's more vice versa). So I dumped all of them (but not before dumping me first, meh whatever).

So I graduated, not with flying colors or anything, just in a normal and unremarkable fashion. I saw my previous girlfriends marching and obtaining their diplomas, grading them in my head how many times they have probably dunnit. Seven. Five. Three. Certainly a two for her. Don't get me wrong, I'm not really the vengeful type, it's just that, it was so boring! The march seemed to drag on forever, but like all good things, it all comes to an end sooner or later.

After the ceremony, my parents prepared a simple feast, supposedly for me. I really should remember to thank them sometime, as I've never really gotten to do so. I was too tired and sleepy to bother, and to bed I immediately went. I probably dozed off through the entire party (good thing my folks didn't ground me for not showing up), as it was already dark when I woke up.

I decided to make a quick stroll round the streets outside the house, to shake the cobwebs of sleep. The sun wasn't fully down yet, and the sky was wonderfully orange purple; quite a magnificent sight really. I stopped by the park just across my village, sat on one of the seats and stared aimlessly at the sky.

"Beautiful isn't it?"

I turned my head. Whatever was there, certainly was beautiful.

"Too bad, things like these don't really last."

"Pardo-"

"Shhhh, there isn't much time left."

She leaned against my shoulder, placing her hand on my chest.

"Let's just enjoy the view, and pretend we know each other."

I placed my hand on top of hers, expecting her to pull it back. To my surprise, she didn't even move.

The sun took its time setting, but it still felt so fast. Too fast.

I heard the sound of a car rushing to a stop, a door opening and footsteps shuffling in our direction.

"Miss, we must go back, the young master, your fiancee, is waiting for you."

Without a word, she stood from where she was sitting. I instinctively held on to her hand; for the first time in my life, I felt like not letting go. I have let all opportunities pass me by, living a normal and unremarkable life. Opportunities that could have turned into something beautiful if I had grabbed hold of them. Now, I just can't. I will not let opportunities pass me by anymore. Not this.

"Please, let go of the mistress. Did you not hear that she is already engaged? Don't make me resort to using force."

This was the first time I got a good look at her face. It was fleeting, but it was beautiful. A smiling and reassuring face. I let her hand go, as if as a regretful response to an honest, sincere and unspoken request.

"Young mistress, I will be waiting in the car. Please say your goodbyes to your... acquaintance."

Her chaperon left, his movements graceful but imposing, as if telling me that one wrong move and I die. Completely opposite of her body language.

Her lips felt soft and tender, catching me off guard.

"I'm sorry for all of this, consider that my compensation."

She turned away. I was too shocked to even move.

"We may probably never meet anymore, so I wouldn't even bother giving you my name, if to save you from longing for me. I had the greatest time, perhaps the greatest I will ever be having."

"Thank you. Please continue enjoying your life while you can."

Her car took off faster than I could react. It was pointless to chase after it, perhaps her chaperon was making sure I'd never even get a chance to catch a passing glimpse of her. I stood frozen where I was, still quite unsure of what just happened. I can still feel her warmth permeating through my skin, through my entire body.

True enough, I never met her again. Nobody knew who she was, not even the village security. It was as if she never existed, and I'm beginning to think maybe everything was just a dream. But it couldn't be, I can still feel the softness of her lips against mine; no way that could be just a dream! Whoever she was though, I'd probably never find out.

Hard as it is, I resigned myself to that.

Cruel isn't it, how the one and only time you became determined to hold on, it just had to be in that one impossible situation. Her last words still continue to ring in my ears, an invitation I could never ever accept.

But in her memory, I will.

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I

love you

dearest I love you


true



And till I can my frail heart will


always be for you