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Paranatural's InsaneJournal:
| Friday, September 22nd, 2023 | |
| 3:26 am | Paranatural - Chapter 8 Page 39  New comic! Today's News: **EDIT** Final colors up! Just flats for now. Spilled boiling water on my drawing hand! I'm fine, just an annoying delay! Finishing touches to come. Thanks for reading! ~ [Transcript] For a moment, it seemed as though Ape’s muscles had begun to swell with strength. First his shoulders broadened, then his biceps bubbled up to twice their size. This was where the illusion shattered, however: as this expansion moved down to his forearms, his shoulders shrank, and then his biceps, too, briefly granting Ape a striking Popeye silhouette. Crush cocked an eyebrow, waiting patiently. At last the matte black of Ape’s impossibly dark robes was broken by a bulge of gloopy green—two bloated doctopi had crawled out from his sleeves onto his hands. With routine ease and hungry eyes, both spirits simultaneously engulfed Ape’s fists, transformed into a pair of living boxing gloves. Ape sunk into a fighting stance once more. Crush’s smile twitched, then burst at its seams. He broke down laughing, sending spectral energy swirling when he tried to slap his nonexistent knees. “HAHAHAHA!! You’re just too much, big guy!†Crush roared, snorting and holding back tears. It took some time before he managed to compose himself. “Ahh, what a night! What a fight! Of all the great apes, big guy, you’re the greatest!†THWeep!! A vicious straight slammed into Crush, which made a clownish squeak. The ghost was sent back sailing twenty feet. Ape tilted his head, leering at his opponent with dim incredulity. Not only was Crush unfazed, but unharmed, too... and incandescent. The ghost’s face, chest, and the arm he’d blocked the blow with were encased in a gleaming purple carapace of spectral energy, a shell so dense it was opaque, unlike the see-through constructs that he’d made so far. “Pretty cool, right? Master Guerra calls this spectral tempering.†Crush’s voice had taken on a resonant waver, as if traveling through flawless liquid glass. “You can’t just focus on the end result when ya make armor like this. You gotta picture every layer—fused but separate, firm but flexible. Boy, is it well worth it, though!†Leaves rustled faintly in the wake of Crush’s lunge, reacting to a fleeting instant of poltergeist presence. Ape’s guard rose and shattered as a tempered fist slammed him across the clearing. Both doctopi cooed with delight. Crush beamed. Even his teeth shone with power, sharpened to a row of violet fangs. “Ha! When ya weave it right, tempered energy’s like havin’ extra muscles made of steel! The best defense is a dang good offense too, it turns out! Works both ways.†Ape pounded his doctopus fists together (which they seemed to quite enjoy, the little freaks) and stepped back into arm’s reach swinging wildly, aiming liver punches at the side of Crush that wasn’t sheathed in purple. Each blow the ghost’s armored limb nonetheless easily blocked earned a little squeak of joy from Ape’s increasingly jubilant boxing gloves. “Of course mine ain’t the VERY best defense,†Crush smirked, throwing counters through the flurry raining down on him. “I can only cover so much, not like Scabs or Master Guerra. But I reckon that it’s still better than yours!†WHAM!! A thunderous cross-counter froze their brawl. Crush grinned against Ape’s gurgling doctopus fist. “See, I’m protectin’ me for real,†he said, “but you, you’re just snuffin’ out the pain... which means you’re really, REALLY gonna feel this in the morning.†Ape’s mask scraped Crush’s knuckles as he turned back to face him. “Then you admit,†his deep voice droned, “that I will be the one who sees the dawn.†“Ha! Well yeah, big guy!†Crush laughed and knocked the brute’s drooling fist away. “I’m not gonna kill ya. I’m just gonna beat you senseless and drag ya back to Master Guerra. Whoa—were you planning to kill ME?†He clasped his chest in mock heartbreak, shaping his spectral energy into a single purple tear. “You are already dead,†Ape replied matter-of-factly. Crush contorted with surprise—perhaps because he’d forgotten he was a ghost again, as he often seemed to, or perhaps because he thought that Ape had pulled off some sort of instant-kill pressure point technique on him, and was announcing it before his foe exploded. Ape continued on, however, sagging with a reverent regret. “Thus, I have killed no one. Only given victims peace. Ghost, let this knowledge soothe your restless soul, as it has soothed countless others: the second end you face fuels life eternal.†Two doctopus-clad fists steepled in prayer. “Lament. Rejoice. Give praise to my goddess... the King of Corpses, the Saint of Skeletons, the Reaper Regent Razor Rex. May Her holy bones bleach ever brighter, the stench of Her decay stink evermore.†Ape shook his head, staring at Crush forlornly. “Alas, it is too late for Her to save you. But you are not forgotten, pitiful specter. For Razor Rex avenges you, my child—soon shall death itself die by Her blade... the very same scythe that your soul will serve to sharpen.†“Ha ha,†laughed Crush. “Uh, what?†“You are right to ask this question. For Razor Rex asked questions, too. What has killed more people than death? What murder has occurred where death was not a co-conspirator? Should death not, then, face judgment? Should death not be put to death?†“...Listen, big guy, I’ll take a pamphlet if you got one, but let’s keep fightin’, yeah?†Crush picked his nose impatiently. “Yeesh. I’d heard the rumors about Mayview havin’ some kind of weirdo death cult—y’know, for depressed accountants and realtors or whatever—but I thought you guys would WORSHIP death, not BORE me to it.†“I would do neither of these things. Death is our obsession, yes, but only as a flaw we would see fixed.†Ape nodded sagely. “If anything, you should be calling us life cultists—†Crush punched Ape so hard that he cartwheeled, landing in a heap in distant bushes. “Ah,†Ape said, unhurt but not uninjured. His doctopus gloves trembled with sheer glee. “That should be enough now Beneath the black of his robes, something bright and sparkling stirred. |
| Friday, September 15th, 2023 | |
| 1:52 am | Paranatural - Chapter 8 Page 38  New comic! Today's News: I am having a lot of fun with this scene :^) I love fights. In other news, I put some cool stuff up on Patreon the other day: a bunch of art for Paranatural and my work-in-progress project Animal Star, plus... the first two chapters of a novel I am writing?? If you'd like to support my work—which would be appreciated now more than ever—you can get access to the aforementioned content at the $5+ level! Thanks for reading, and thanks for all of your support, and for spreading and enjoying my work! ~ [Transcript] They were minutes deep into the woods before the masked figure first spoke. “...I commend you for your valor,†he said in a deep, deliberate whisper. They’d stopped in a dark clearing, and the giant turned around to face the ghost he’d led thus far. Crush popped his thumb-sized pinky from his ear. “Wuzzat?†he asked, flicking away some ectoplasmic wax. He hadn’t once stopped smiling since their hike far from the Guerras’ house first started. “Your lying to the boy. It was noble of you. He meant to call for reinforcements, yes?†The figure spread his arms in gentle welcome, like a priest giving a sermon. “But you stopped him.†Slowly, both his huge hands balled, becoming mighty fists. “And so there was no need for me to stop him.†KrrshHKK!! Crackling, ice-blue spectral energy sparked free from his hulking shoulders, surging as though held back until now. “Ergo, you fight alone... and I commend you for your valor.†Crush snickered, then broke out in a guffaw. “HA! Oh, that? Nah, I just knew my Master would make reeeal short work of ya.†He looked the figure up and down, unfazed by his display. “But I’m glad to hear we’re gonna fight! I’ve been itchin’ for a chance to REALLY let loose without gettin’ interrupted “...I see,†the figure said. “That will make this... easier “You lookin’ for reasons to hold back already, big guy? Don’tchya think that’s kinda cocky?†Crush slipped into an easy fighting stance, suddenly outlined by a smooth sheen of purple energy. He grinned a vicious grin. “What if your best ain’t good enough to beat me?†“I am sorry,†droned the figure, shadowed now behind raised fists, “but it will be.†Blue and purple crashed together as both fighters lunged in one bright instant. FWOOM!! A mammoth punch scattered leaves, among the first of autumn’s fallen, as one huge fist found empty air. Crack crack CRACK!! Three landed in the opening it left. The skull-masked figure grunted as he stumbled back, sinking to one knee. Crush blew a wisp of violet from the hand that had delivered the last uppercut in his combo, like smoke from off the barrel of a gun. “You got a name, big guy?†he asked, grinning down at his opponent. “Not... w-while I wear this mask,†the figure wheezed. With effort, he rose back up to his feet. “I am simply Ape,†said Ape, and raised his fists once more. “Nameless dude named Ape. You got it, big guy,†Crush laughed, circling his foe. “Listen, Ape. I got ya read real good now, so help me check my work, m’kay The grinning ghost dove in before the sentence finished, ducked a haymaker from Ape, and struck him three more times straight in the stomach. When an elbow fell to punish him, a length of purple chain was waiting for it. With an unbecoming hoot, Crush yanked the tangled giant towards the ground, then kneed him back to full height with a leg that he’d just conjured. Ape swayed, almost losing his balance, as he scrambled to make distance. “That’s meat that I’ve been poundin’. You’re a spectral, yeah? Is that right?†Ape growled. His fists raised once again. Crush smiled. “Yup, you’re just some dude. And what, you boxed in college?†Ape’s stance wavered slightly, as did his spectral energy. “Bull’s-eye! What was that, a century ago? You’re rusty, Ape!†Crush shadowboxed a one-two punch from ten feet out, scattering purple sparks against Ape’s guard. “Throwin’ elbows in the first round?? Yeesh!†He thumbed his nose. “You been coastin’ on size this whole time, big guy?? Ha! Well, I’m big too, and much, MUCH faster!†Ape noticed far too late that one of Crush’s sparks had lingered at his shoulder. A shining purple fist suddenly appeared in its place, and crashed into Ape’s chin, beneath his mask. He threw a wild counter out in front of him, ducking to dodge the next hit in the combo... but none came. Crush hadn’t moved an inch from where he’d been. “HA!! Way to sting like a butterfly, big guy! Hard to see behind them bones, huh?†Crush was beaming, both hands planted on his hips. “Well, your eyes can only do so much when facing Spectral Fist... but MY half of the speed date show-and-tell comes later. We’re still learning about you!†Ape roared, charging Crush, ready to seize him in a bear hug... but the ghost simply phased through the ground, emerging moments later just behind him. “Next GUESS!†Crush cheered, slamming Ape’s spine with both fists The hulking boxer stumbled forward, whirling in a weighty arc to snarl at his foe. Crush smirked, snorting a defiant stream of spectral energy right back at him. “Next guess.†He wagged his finger disapprovingly. “...You haven’t felt a single dang punch that I’ve landed, have you, big guy?†This time, his opponent was eerily still. Silence hung between them for a few tense seconds. Then Ape slowly discarded every sign of feral bluster that had built up since the fight had first begun. His breath grew even, and he rose up to full height, severe and somber. “Boooring,†Crush whined in his shadow, though he looked more thrilled with every passing moment. |
| Friday, August 18th, 2023 | |
| 7:10 pm | Paranatural - Chapter 8 Page 35  New comic! Today's News: *EDIT* Had to skip updating this week, I was swamped! Thanks for your patience until next time! Seriously, give a gal some credit. Thanks for waiting, and for reading! Support Paranatural on Patreon! ~ [Transcript] It was difficult to make out much of anything. Max’s spirit world was arid as a desert. West Hill wavered like a mirage in the distance, and dust kicked up by sparse wind veiled the lake’s state in the valley. No, it wasn’t dust. That was bonafide sand—a vital distinction, to be sure. There were great dunes of it beyond Mayview’s twin hills, as if the trance hadn’t bothered to render more junk out past Scrapdragon’s vast town-wide territory. Max saw nothing else strange, however. He felt a bit odd, as if under surveillance, but he figured the snake with six eyes explained that. Or it could have been Ms. Baxter (though Max wouldn’t have guessed it), who was heading to an errand further down East Hill, and who’d just witnessed a child with glowing eyes Garry’s Mod his way through a building, whirl about in the sky, and hang suspended there speaking and screaming in squeaks over the course of the last few stretched seconds. Scrapdragon, though, seemed sure of some other prey’s presence. Max’s own search was cut short as his spirit suddenly lurched forward. “Whoa, hey!†Max called out, struggling to keep his balance. “A little warning next time?!†He didn’t notice Lefty’s fingers just barely brush against his hoodie before Scrapdragon carried him further away. The spirit advanced in a slow, stealthy slither. Such an approach was hampered, undoubtedly, by the sound of the metal raining down from its —Scrapdragon was shedding its armor, it seemed—but its bare scales did scrape over scrap with a shade less cacophony. Max found that his bat had come unstuck as well, and as Scrapdragon slinked low to weave between junk piles, he seized the chance and slid off of its back. Several awkward descents later (Max had tried to slow his fall with magnetism, and thus bobbed halfway up and down again until he got the force right), both his feet were planted firmly on the ground across the street. The young spectral’s relief was overshadowed, however, if not eclipsed, by growing curiosity. Scrapdragon was after something out there. Was there a needle in this needlestack that his spirit had been trying to find this whole time? He’d caught it digging through debris at the start of his last trance, too... Maybe that’s what’s got it grudged out, Max wondered. World’s best metal detector, one coin left to complete the collection... stranded on the worst beach you could ever have to comb There wasn’t much he could do but speculate now; all Max could see from the sidewalk was sky, scrap, and his spirit’s slowly shrinking bulk, watching as it wormed past down the hill. “Good luck, I guess!†he shouted after it. “Make like a snake and digest whatever you’re hunting slowly, all right?! I’m not hanging out with you when you’re hungry anymore!!†Unsure of how to make an artful exit, or really how to leave by any other means at all, Maxwell Puckett dropped his haunted bat. In the instant before his trance ended, a slinking thing peered out from its hiding place, a sand-flooded hollow not far from where Scrapdragon searched. “Witless whelp,†it hissed. “Ungrateful little gremlin. I risk my life to give you nine, and what thanks do I get?†Golden claws flexed out from pitch-black fur... then reluctantly retracted. Old oaths tugged on the sleek creature’s neck like a leash. “...Any other goddess would be worshipped for such selfless intervention.†Then the trance was over, and form scattered from the world, the spirit left to brood inside its medium. Max heard Lefty drift up next to him, but he stayed staring at the view. The sun had set back in the real world, and the crisp, blue fall night air was more refreshing than he ever dreamed it could be. Mayview softly hummed with the sounds of bugs and frogs and distant cars, a peace that even PJ’s shouting couldn’t shatter. “Hey,†Max said to Lefty, glancing over at the ghost, who looked just as stern as a severed hand could. “Slow motion’s kind of trite for action movie rescue scenes. Just so you know for next time.†Then he gave Lefty’s whole face a high five, picked up his bat after only a few moments’ hesitation, and turned to go inside back to bed. |
| Thursday, August 31st, 2023 | |
| 5:00 pm | Paranatural - Chapter 8 Page 36  New comic! Today's News: We all love and remember the previously-unnamed karate ghost Crush, don't we every. And Grandpa too ~ [Transcript] Ed had a lot on their mind. It could be a busy place even in less turbulent times; the world hid weird bugs and silly-looking spirits everywhere, not to mention rocks and sticks, and when they weren’t caught up parsing those, they still had old cartoons and Chun-Li frame data to think about. Adding in a doomsday prophecy and confusing drama at home and at school had thrown their head’s clutter all about—and they preferred the mess up there the way they’d made it Luckily, Ed did some of their best brain-sorting while trapped inside a headlock. “Ha ha! You better tap out, little man!†laughed Crush, who must not have known that little men were called boys. “Three-two-one!†the buff ghost counted, then again: “ThreetwoONE hut hut HIKE!†Crush must not have known how wrestling worked either, because he never let go once he’d pinned Ed when they sparred, and he would score every subsequent three count and tap out as its own separate victory, without ever releasing them. Today Ed lost ninety to zilch, a gap that was still growing every second (since Crush could fit three seconds into one—he must not have known how to tell time either). Ed stared over meaty muscle hillocks, past the other students training all around them, to the much worse fight unfolding on the far side of the porch. There were no fists involved in this one, which only made it all the more intimidating. “I shouldn’t have told you anything!†Isabel was shouting, streaming swirls of blazing red. “I should have saved the town myself, and TAKEN Flipflop’s friend back without asking... but NO! I thought you’d care, even just a little. I thought for ONCE you’d take me seriously!†Grandpa Guerra stared off past her, sitting rooted with one fist against the ground. “I am taking what you’ve told me seriously, and my men and I will handle it with the composure it deserves. As you cannot, it seems, young lady.†Ed grimaced. They’d been fighting off and on like this since Isabel got home. Ed could always tell when she’d been dropped off by her dad instead of Miss Chen, because she’d cut through the field up the hill rather than suddenly appear upon the porch—Mister Guerra never drove close enough to make eye contact with Master Guerra, whom he’d been feuding with for years. Tonight, though, her expression alone had been plenty proof that she’d just left the father frying pan and fallen straight into the grandfather fire. “I’m not—†Isabel sputtered. “It’s not about me—†“No it is not. And yet you’ve made it so.†Grandpa Guerra shook his head, tactically calm. “What did you expect that I’ve denied you? That I would hear your prophecy and share your panic? That I would free a spirit that attacked my home, not only at the behest of its accomplice, but at once, without sparing a thought for sense or safety?†He sighed. “If you want a show of care, then by all means, ask your father. I will do what’s best for you, and weather your scorn if I must.†“What’s best for me?†Isabel asked, her voice trembling. “How can being miserable be what’s best for me?! Why’s what’s best never what I want? Why’s it always what YOU want?!†“Because I’ve seen the world you haven’t,†the old ghost answered, unmoving and unfazed. “When you are older, stronger, wiser, what we want will be the same. Until then...†Master Guerra held Flipflop’s vessel aloft, clutching the confiscated umbrella firmly in his fist, “I will allow no further whispers in your ear. You’ve failed this test. Assess yourself in solitude, and ready for the next one.†Isabel roared in frustration, kicked the porch, fighting back tears, and spun to storm inside. “Izzy!†Ed called out after her, squeaking free from Crush’s sweaty muscles. “I’m fine,†she shot back. Ed wilted. That was code for “don’t follow me,†even if she really wasn’t. They watched as Isabel slipped out of sight. “Tough break, little man.†Crush had reapplied his headlock. “Little lady said get lost!†It seemed he didn’t know what girls were either. Ed thought that was tragic, or maybe ideal, or maybe neither of those things—they’d been lost on that front too since their strange conversation with RJ and Johnny the other day Crush laughed. “Looks like the only shoulder gettin’ cried on tonight is my elbow! Ha ha ha!†Ed considered this kind offer, but wasn’t really feeling tearful. They felt more like a wet match or a sock that didn’t have one. Useless—no, that wasn’t it. Inadequate? Ed felt present but purposeless, like a bystander to an accident, like a human in a Transformers movie. That WAS what Isabel had asked of them, for Ed to just stand by her side... but they couldn't help but wonder if that’s just the most she thought that they could offer. The bespectacled spectral sighed into Crush’s bicep, as best its mighty girth allowed his lungs. Isabel was almost like a sister to Ed, in large part because she legally literally was. Ed never called her that, though, or called Miss Chen their mom. Everyone in Ed’s family—and Mr. Spender, too—knew Ed’s real parents. They were spectral scientists, or something, and had been spirited away in a strange incident that occurred when Ed was only just a baby. Every still seemed very sad about it, though, and seemed to think Ed should be too... and so they called old photos mom and dad, and always kept a little distance from the only home they’d ever known. A real sibling would know how to help Isabel, Ed thought to themself. Or someone smarter. Eightfold, Dimitri, Mr. Spender, they always knew the right words... when they stuck around to say them. Ed’s parents were supposed to be brilliant—why couldn’t they have at least left Ed some genius genes behind? Heck, Spender had told Ed that the Burgers were strong, too, that they’d chase grudges like storm chasers would chase storms, if storm chasers sometimes had to beat up tornados. If only Ed could be that fearless... A long sigh wafted out their lips in wisps of green. More than anything right now, Ed wished that they could be some else |
| Friday, September 8th, 2023 | |
| 1:23 am | Paranatural - Chapter 8 Page 37  New comic! Today's News: Get hype for ape fight. Thanks for reading you kooky kids. ~ [Transcript] “Whoops! You give up the ghost there, little man?†Crush let Ed plop down upon the porch. Ed checked their feet to see if they were gas. “Oh, uh. Nope. Still kickin’.†“Still? If you had kicked at all before we mighta had a real dang match. HA!†Crush laughed hugely to himself. “You were like a wet fish the whole time, little man! Ha ha!†“That’s good for fish to be,†Ed said, but their opponent had stopped listening. Ed noticed now that almost everyone else had left or was just leaving. They glimpsed the tip of Master Guerra’s trail as it phased through the wall, and all the other students that were halfway round the house. Crush, though, was floating in place, staring off into the darkness of the woods. “Hey,†he said, still smirking, though his eyes shone like a cat’s. “Little man. You see something out there? Past the bush, behind those branches.†Ed blinked up at him, then out towards the murk at the treeline. The air was alive with nocturnal things, the porch lights blinding... but sure enough, there was a shape there. Something large and humanoid, and blacker than all of the black surrounding it. Except for its face. Yes, its face... only that was white as scoured bone. “Thought so,†Crush said, taking Ed’s expression as an answer. He cracked his neck and then his knuckles, floating forward down and off the deck. Ed’s hair stood on end. They were used to ghouls and spirits, but the figure watching from the woods... it wasn’t supernatural enough. Something about its spooky aura seemed more slasher film than ghost story. “Hey—! Crush! Where are you going?!†Ed hissed in a whisper. “Don’t you think you might need backup...?†“Nah, you stay put. Master Guerra had it right. You kids should leave all the junk that goes bump in the night to us.†Crush flexed, glancing back over his bicep. “It’s what we’ve all been training for, y’know?†Ed gulped. They’d meant that they’d fetch Master Guerra or some other adult, not follow Crush into the woods. Either way, they still had to warn some—Crush was a meathead, and he’d already gotten himself killed fighting a spirit solo once before. Ed rose shakily back to their feet. A sudden sharp guffaw from Crush set their nerves sparking “HA! You can stop sweatin’, little man!†he called back. “It’s just a training dummy someone left out. Trick of the dark!†Ed’s shoulders sagged. “...O-oh. Really?†“Yep!†lied Crush, meeting with his gleaming gaze the vacant, pitch-black eyes a foot away. “So run along now, little man! Go get some sleep!†Crush’s grin widened to mirror the unmoving skeletal grimace staring down at him. “...I’ll clean up here.†“...Okay,†said Ed, and scurried back inside. |