Scribbles
Trying out a new layout. I think it's pretty nifty.
Anyway. I was feeling uninspired, but I wanted to work on something, so I just typed up what I have of my side of the tentacleboy story.
So if you want to read a little unfinished story snippet, well...
It was out of boredom, mostly, that Seth took the survey. Boredom and an inherent, childish optimism that made him think that maybe, just maybe, something interesting might come of it. The survey was in a plain white envelope, lettered in neat handwriting (which should have struck him as odd at the time, had he actually bothered to examine it), and was itself printed on stiff, white paper; high-quality paper, mysteriously water-stained around the edges.
The questions were written in simple, somewhat broken English and ranged in topic from the general ("What name and age are you?") to the oddly specific ("What size of hands do you have?") to the uncomfortably personal ("Have you any sexual partner(s)?"). Even so, Seth filled it out, feeling like he was talking to someone who honestly wanted to know, which made him feel a little lonely. It had been about two months since Kady had broken up with him. Getting used to being single was hard.
It was two months later when the package arrived, oddly heavy and lettered in the same neat handwriting. The delivery man requested a ludicrous tip, indicating the word "FRAGILE" written urgently over the sides.
Seth didn't really connect the package to the survey until later, when he had almost recovered from the shock. There was a letter taped securely to the box, printed lettering on thick, water-stained paper. He skimmed the first few paragraphs which thanked him for his participation and congratulated him for winning whatever it was the box contained.
He picked up the box, groaning and feeling very out of shape as he wrestled it from the side table near the door to the kitchen counter, next to a messy stack of unpaid bills. The scissors were in the drawer to his left. Some sort of sweet tree-smell rose from the box as he opened it.
Inside was another box, this one made from some sort of wood. (That explained the smell.) There was a silver latch on the top of the box, curling over the edge that was facing him. "Open me!" was etched in the wood just above the latch.
Seth took a deep, nervous breath, half expecting to be blown up or inhale some poisonous gas, and flipped up the latch.
The sides of the wood box fell away oddly slowly, and Seth was absolutely sure he'd inhaled some dangerous hallucinogen from the wood, because the creature he was looking at absolutely could not be real.
The box containing the creature was clear plastic, filled with what appeared to be water, with a slim metal box affixed to the inside, presumably filtering said water. Seth noticed all this only peripherally. All of his attention was directed at the creature.
It looked about as long as his forearm, curled inward on itself as if sleeping. The lower half was made up of eight curled tentacles, fading in color from lavender to dark purple, speckled with even darker purple, and pale fish-belly white on the sucker-covered undersides. The remarkable part (and the part Seth could not stop staring at, because there was absolutely no way it could be real) was above the tentacles, where the purple octopus-body faded into the upper body of a young human boy, maybe twelve or thirteen. His arms were curled gently against his chest, hands resting in front of a soft, pouted mouth. Delicate gills on his neck flared in a soft, dreamy rhythm, and Seth thought he might be about to pass out, because if the thing was really breathing, it certainly wasn't some sort of advanced underwater animatronic. It was alive.
He forced himself to breathe, look closer. The creature's eyes were just a bit too large even closed, and slightly tilted. A small upturned nose rested in the center of its face. Seth noticed the tiny nostrils flaring in time with the gills.
Just as he was working up the courage to tap on the box, those eyes opened, wide and light grey-purple, fascinated. The thing uncoiled, pressing itself to the top of the box and gaping at him. Its little mouth moved fishlike, open and closed, breathing.
And that's all I've got.
Now I'm gonna fill out this survey MCAD send me, maybe scan some stuff before Mom's computer goes to PC Max, maybe clean up that one comic and post it to devART.
Anyway. I was feeling uninspired, but I wanted to work on something, so I just typed up what I have of my side of the tentacleboy story.
So if you want to read a little unfinished story snippet, well...
It was out of boredom, mostly, that Seth took the survey. Boredom and an inherent, childish optimism that made him think that maybe, just maybe, something interesting might come of it. The survey was in a plain white envelope, lettered in neat handwriting (which should have struck him as odd at the time, had he actually bothered to examine it), and was itself printed on stiff, white paper; high-quality paper, mysteriously water-stained around the edges.
The questions were written in simple, somewhat broken English and ranged in topic from the general ("What name and age are you?") to the oddly specific ("What size of hands do you have?") to the uncomfortably personal ("Have you any sexual partner(s)?"). Even so, Seth filled it out, feeling like he was talking to someone who honestly wanted to know, which made him feel a little lonely. It had been about two months since Kady had broken up with him. Getting used to being single was hard.
It was two months later when the package arrived, oddly heavy and lettered in the same neat handwriting. The delivery man requested a ludicrous tip, indicating the word "FRAGILE" written urgently over the sides.
Seth didn't really connect the package to the survey until later, when he had almost recovered from the shock. There was a letter taped securely to the box, printed lettering on thick, water-stained paper. He skimmed the first few paragraphs which thanked him for his participation and congratulated him for winning whatever it was the box contained.
He picked up the box, groaning and feeling very out of shape as he wrestled it from the side table near the door to the kitchen counter, next to a messy stack of unpaid bills. The scissors were in the drawer to his left. Some sort of sweet tree-smell rose from the box as he opened it.
Inside was another box, this one made from some sort of wood. (That explained the smell.) There was a silver latch on the top of the box, curling over the edge that was facing him. "Open me!" was etched in the wood just above the latch.
Seth took a deep, nervous breath, half expecting to be blown up or inhale some poisonous gas, and flipped up the latch.
The sides of the wood box fell away oddly slowly, and Seth was absolutely sure he'd inhaled some dangerous hallucinogen from the wood, because the creature he was looking at absolutely could not be real.
The box containing the creature was clear plastic, filled with what appeared to be water, with a slim metal box affixed to the inside, presumably filtering said water. Seth noticed all this only peripherally. All of his attention was directed at the creature.
It looked about as long as his forearm, curled inward on itself as if sleeping. The lower half was made up of eight curled tentacles, fading in color from lavender to dark purple, speckled with even darker purple, and pale fish-belly white on the sucker-covered undersides. The remarkable part (and the part Seth could not stop staring at, because there was absolutely no way it could be real) was above the tentacles, where the purple octopus-body faded into the upper body of a young human boy, maybe twelve or thirteen. His arms were curled gently against his chest, hands resting in front of a soft, pouted mouth. Delicate gills on his neck flared in a soft, dreamy rhythm, and Seth thought he might be about to pass out, because if the thing was really breathing, it certainly wasn't some sort of advanced underwater animatronic. It was alive.
He forced himself to breathe, look closer. The creature's eyes were just a bit too large even closed, and slightly tilted. A small upturned nose rested in the center of its face. Seth noticed the tiny nostrils flaring in time with the gills.
Just as he was working up the courage to tap on the box, those eyes opened, wide and light grey-purple, fascinated. The thing uncoiled, pressing itself to the top of the box and gaping at him. Its little mouth moved fishlike, open and closed, breathing.
And that's all I've got.
Now I'm gonna fill out this survey MCAD send me, maybe scan some stuff before Mom's computer goes to PC Max, maybe clean up that one comic and post it to devART.