I love music. I love it so much that when I start listening to it, I remember almost every single this that goes on in the world.
Here's an example: there's this one kind of hand cream I started using at around the same time I started listening to songs by this one guy who calls himself Gotye. You know, the guy who wrote "Somebody I used to know" with the video of naked people singing at each other while some magical force paints designs on their skin? He actually makes great music, better than that one song. He just got famous for that song because there's naked people in it. (The video, I mean. The song has nothing to do with naked people.)
Anyway, I get really, REALLY dry skin on my hands every couple of years for whatever reason, and because of that I start wearing a lot of hand cream. And when I discover a new favorite artist, I listen to them exclusively for a few weeks or so. So whenever I was wearing the hand cream, I'd be listening to some Gotye. Then the phase passed. But whenever someone uses that same hand cream, my brain immediately goes, "That cream smells like Gotye music."
It's just the connections my brain makes are completely sensible, but make no sense at all, simultaneously, and it confuses me while throwing me back into a past of staying up late drawing some really epic pictures. That's what I used to do; stay up late, listen to Gotye, and draw. Back before I had this weird issue with sleep. That's a long story.
But the connections my brain makes throws me into a torment of emotions, and I'm left going, "Wow, that's weird, but I like it for some reason," and everyone around me is asking if I'm okay, and what the heck am I talking about, anyway?
Here's another example: When I was a lot younger, my family would go on a trip to a place called Sunriver, where one of my relatives kept an extra house and we'd stay there over the winter because it always snowed and it was really fun. The drive took hours, so my parents would play music. As far as I can remember, every single time, they played Santana. Only Santana music, every winter, for hours in a row as we drove to this faraway place that I loved but didn't really know that well. I really liked it, and sometimes, when we weren't at Sunriver, I'd like to listen to it again, but I never learned the artist because I was too young to have learned that different people actually wrote this stuff. So I would say, "I want to listen to the Sunriver music!" And my parents would go, "What Sunriver music?" and I'd get frustrated that I couldn't articulate what I wanted better and shout, "The music we listen to when we go to Sunriver!" and after a lot of arguing I'd be able to get my point across and they'd play me the music I wanted, and then I was the happiest little five year old in the world.
Another one, because what the heck: I've already established that I love the Percy Jackson books. So you'd understand my joy when my mom came home from work a few years ago and presented me with the last book in the series, just released earlier that day. I thought they'd have sold out, and they almost had before my mom was able to snag one. My dad had also come across an album by Death Cab for Cutie practically on the same day. It might as well have been on the same day, because he started playing it everywhere, at home, in the car, anywhere he could. I liked it as much as he did, and learned every song in the background of Percy Jackson saving the world from the titan Kronos. But gosh darn it, when I wanted to listen to it myself, I had forgotten the name of the artist, and when I asked Dad about it, I accidentally called it "The Percy Jackson music," because that's what I called it in my head, but it didn't make any sense to my dad because he hadn't been reading Percy Jackson.
I don't know why my brain does this, and I don't know if anyone else's does, too. I just know it's a thing that happens that confuses everybody. But that doesn't mean I want it to stop. Because every time I hear Santana, I think of Sunriver, and playing in the snow, and waking up at five A.M. with my mom to walk down to the local bakery to buy doughnuts for everyone before they woke up and surprising them with the best breakfast in the world, and playing Monopoly, and winning before really knowing what it was about, and having bad TV reception. Every time I hear Death Cab for Cutie, I remember Percy Jackson swimming in the River Styx and Annabeth taking a poisoned knife that was meant for him, and the bad guy not always wanting to be evil. Every time I smell that hand cream, I remember Gotye, and singing along to it, and late nights of drawing, and sixth grade, back when everything was going my way, when I was the smartest girl in my class, the best writer, the best artist. Back when I was on top.
When I hear this music, I live in the past. I don't know if it's a good or bad thing, and I don't really know if it should stop. But it's what happens. And the past happened, and you can't change it, so why try to change it now?
Hey Guys! Feeling a bit better, my schedule's actually up on my parent's account now. It's still rejecting my login, but at least I can see it somewhere. I'm not as stressed right now. Except that my parents want to take me camping on Sunday (the 31st of August). After getting a shot on Friday, and the shopping and the donating to goodwill and the water gun fights and the birthday party on Saturday, I think I'm due for some relaxation, especially with school TWO FREAKING DAYS AWAY and I haven't finished planning for it yet!! Urgh! My parents are forcing me to go anyway.
Sorry for the delay in Super stuff. It's on its way, I promise. I also have something extra planned to come out sometime this September, which – SPOILER ALERT – involves Superheroes, insane people, and funny therapists. Sounds weird? Yes. But it's a hilarious thing I've had a lot of help coming up with, and believe me, it's awesome. You will not want to miss this. Keep your eyes open for it.
As far as updates go, that's about it. Thanks for reading! If you like this, or even better, have your own experience that you'd like to share, please say so in the comment section!!! I love to hear from you guys, and the steady rise in comments is making me really happy! If you want to comment, but can't because Google can be stupid sometimes, send me an email at polarfarina@gmail.com and I can post it for you, if you'd like! Or if you don't want me to, I won't. Fanmail is the best, any way you look at it.
My Heart's a Mess,
PolarFarina
Sunday, August 31, 2014
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Gosh Darn it, I Hate This
Okay, I'm sorry I don't have another thing ready for you guys. I really am. My life is complete chaos right now, and it's not my fault, even if I keep blaming myself. I hate it when I can't be consistent with you guys.
So I'm starting my second year of high school in four days. Normally, I would be excited. In fact, at this exact time last year, I was all prepared already and had the outfit for my first day of high school ever laid out and all my school supplies labeled nice and neat, waiting to be used. But there's an issue with the school right now. A huge issue.
A couple months before school ended, in May or something, this board came along (I don't know which one, there are too many and no one tells me anything), analyzed our school system, and told the entire school district it needed to completely reorganize the school days and make them longer. Apparently we aren't in accordance with the state, for some reason. I don't know what we're violating exactly, or how much we're violating it, or when they decided this, or why they decided to force us to change it now. I'm not an adult, and I'm not on the student council, so of course they won't tell me or anyone I know what's really going on. I was only able to gleam the info I have from one of my old teachers, who technically wasn't supposed to even say anything at all.
If you can't tell already, my school kind of has a problem with communication.
So they decided that they were going to try to fix this problem before this coming school year started. This was a bad idea, and I knew it, because both my parents used to have a big say in how one of the elementary schools was run, and if you want to change something as big as that, you're going to need more than a couple of months. And that was just for a small 600 kid elementary school. My high school has about 1,500 students. But they went for it.
I actually wouldn't have minded if it weren't for our schedules. See, I'm the kind of person who likes to have it all planned out beforehand. I prepare. But the thing is, no one even knew how many periods a day we were going to have, so how the heck were they supposed to give us our list of classes before they knew what the classes were going to be?
It felt really chaotic and uncertain until sometime last week, when people actually started sending out emails that were telling us to calm down, not worry, and even if school was starting in a week and a half and we didn't have any information on what was going on, we should be sure to have our school supplies ready anyway and not complain too much.
That was what we were supposed to live with until this morning when they put up a newsletter on the site that spent two pages discussing the new staff members and mentioned the fact that our schedules had been uploaded to the site we use to keep track of our grades. I cheered right then, out loud. I really confused some of the people around me, but whatever. Finally! Four days away from school starting, and I'll finally get to know what classes I'm taking!!
Except for that my account's being rejected. This makes me really mad, because all throughout last year the same site constantly had trouble with rejecting random people's logins, and then they'd have to reset their accounts. I was lucky enough to avoid that issue.
I guess it's just my turn to be rejected.
So my mom emailed the people, and examined some other stuff that was on the school site, and realized it said that if there's a problem, to please go to your small school office before school starts on the first day. We couldn't help but snicker at that. Seriously? If history repeats itself, I won't be the only one with this issue and there'll be a massive buildup of people frantically trying to pick up their schedules before they're late for their first class, which they don't even know what it is yet, which just makes them more worried that they'll miss it, and so everyone will be just standing around, getting more frantic, yelling louder, and louder, complaining, and no one will be able to do anything. It's going to be a big, hot mess on the first day. I hope they realize this and plan accordingly. Otherwise, they'll have a lot of huge problems. This is why planning ahead is better: you don't get massive pileups.
So that's some of the crap I'm dealing with now. It's a lot of stress, and I'm trying to explain it to everyone, because no one knows what it feels like to be me.
If you'll excuse me, I've got a massive headache, and it wasn't improved by thinking about this. But I had to tell you what was going on. I'm really trying to write some stuff for you, but it's just not working out right with all this extra... stuff. I'm also drawing a mini-comic on the side, when I have free time. I'll try to get it up before the end of September.
Also, on Friday, the 29th (of August), I have a doctor's appointment. Nothing big, I just have to get an immunization, but my doctor's office is really a far drive away from where I live, and whenever I get a shot, I feel really out of it the rest of the day, and I don't trust myself writing in that state. At least, not for you guys. So nothing on Friday. But maybe Saturday. Maybe.
I'm sorry nothing's working out like I wished it would. But that's life, you know? I've learned to deal with it.
Time to travel to the future.
-PolarFarina
So I'm starting my second year of high school in four days. Normally, I would be excited. In fact, at this exact time last year, I was all prepared already and had the outfit for my first day of high school ever laid out and all my school supplies labeled nice and neat, waiting to be used. But there's an issue with the school right now. A huge issue.
A couple months before school ended, in May or something, this board came along (I don't know which one, there are too many and no one tells me anything), analyzed our school system, and told the entire school district it needed to completely reorganize the school days and make them longer. Apparently we aren't in accordance with the state, for some reason. I don't know what we're violating exactly, or how much we're violating it, or when they decided this, or why they decided to force us to change it now. I'm not an adult, and I'm not on the student council, so of course they won't tell me or anyone I know what's really going on. I was only able to gleam the info I have from one of my old teachers, who technically wasn't supposed to even say anything at all.
If you can't tell already, my school kind of has a problem with communication.
So they decided that they were going to try to fix this problem before this coming school year started. This was a bad idea, and I knew it, because both my parents used to have a big say in how one of the elementary schools was run, and if you want to change something as big as that, you're going to need more than a couple of months. And that was just for a small 600 kid elementary school. My high school has about 1,500 students. But they went for it.
I actually wouldn't have minded if it weren't for our schedules. See, I'm the kind of person who likes to have it all planned out beforehand. I prepare. But the thing is, no one even knew how many periods a day we were going to have, so how the heck were they supposed to give us our list of classes before they knew what the classes were going to be?
It felt really chaotic and uncertain until sometime last week, when people actually started sending out emails that were telling us to calm down, not worry, and even if school was starting in a week and a half and we didn't have any information on what was going on, we should be sure to have our school supplies ready anyway and not complain too much.
That was what we were supposed to live with until this morning when they put up a newsletter on the site that spent two pages discussing the new staff members and mentioned the fact that our schedules had been uploaded to the site we use to keep track of our grades. I cheered right then, out loud. I really confused some of the people around me, but whatever. Finally! Four days away from school starting, and I'll finally get to know what classes I'm taking!!
Except for that my account's being rejected. This makes me really mad, because all throughout last year the same site constantly had trouble with rejecting random people's logins, and then they'd have to reset their accounts. I was lucky enough to avoid that issue.
I guess it's just my turn to be rejected.
So my mom emailed the people, and examined some other stuff that was on the school site, and realized it said that if there's a problem, to please go to your small school office before school starts on the first day. We couldn't help but snicker at that. Seriously? If history repeats itself, I won't be the only one with this issue and there'll be a massive buildup of people frantically trying to pick up their schedules before they're late for their first class, which they don't even know what it is yet, which just makes them more worried that they'll miss it, and so everyone will be just standing around, getting more frantic, yelling louder, and louder, complaining, and no one will be able to do anything. It's going to be a big, hot mess on the first day. I hope they realize this and plan accordingly. Otherwise, they'll have a lot of huge problems. This is why planning ahead is better: you don't get massive pileups.
So that's some of the crap I'm dealing with now. It's a lot of stress, and I'm trying to explain it to everyone, because no one knows what it feels like to be me.
If you'll excuse me, I've got a massive headache, and it wasn't improved by thinking about this. But I had to tell you what was going on. I'm really trying to write some stuff for you, but it's just not working out right with all this extra... stuff. I'm also drawing a mini-comic on the side, when I have free time. I'll try to get it up before the end of September.
Also, on Friday, the 29th (of August), I have a doctor's appointment. Nothing big, I just have to get an immunization, but my doctor's office is really a far drive away from where I live, and whenever I get a shot, I feel really out of it the rest of the day, and I don't trust myself writing in that state. At least, not for you guys. So nothing on Friday. But maybe Saturday. Maybe.
I'm sorry nothing's working out like I wished it would. But that's life, you know? I've learned to deal with it.
Time to travel to the future.
-PolarFarina
Sunday, August 24, 2014
The Super, Part Seven: Splatter
The sun rose as he looked down on the enormous mass of people. They were walking so agonizingly slow, couldn't they go faster? At this rate, it would take days to cross the desert, at which point The Super would have been able to prepare for their attack.
The boy swept his blond hair out of his face. He really needed to get it cut, but it never made it into his schedule. He would have looked quite handsome, really, if it wasn't for the manic look in his differently colored eyes. No matter what he did, he seemed to come across as crazy before he even got a word in.
Curse his teenage impulses! He had to focus on the matter at hand, prepare for battle, not wish his eyes matched in color! He looked down at the dragon he was riding, using his sorcery to communicate mentally. They couldn't risk the criminals hearing their conversations, or else they may they turn against the dragon and himself, or give the information to The Super for something trivial like money, or freedom. It was quite easier to not even let them hear anything.
"Are you annoyed yet?" thought the boy.
"Huh? Sorry, I was so insanely bored my mind went numb. Could you repeat the question?" thought the dragon.
"Why don't we move forward? Cast a spell to get us all there faster?" asked the boy.
"What would the stupid people down there learn? That I'll always be there to take care of their sorry butts? That they don't have to a frickin' thing for themselves because the big scary dragon will fix everything? Yeah, right. I'm teaching them right off the bat that I'm no babysitter. Problem?"
"No, no problem," thought the boy in response. The dragon had picked up on how to intimidate quite well over the past few months. He didn't even use proper grammar or language anymore. It didn't subtract from the intimidation, really. In fact, it sort of added to it.
"Good," thought the dragon. "There are plenty of circumstances that I don't want to repeat. Starting here. Now, I do have a question for you. If you're willing."
"Go ahead," thought the boy.
"What the hell am I supposed to with this star guy? I've been carrying him all night long."
"Oh," thought the boy. Honestly, he'd forgotten about it. "You can go ahead and drop him now. He's learned his lesson, I believe."
"Good," thought the dragon. "I need some entertainment."
And with that, he released his grip on the creature in his claws. He watched in earnest as it fell, and hit the ground with a large foomph. The figure got up after a few seconds, and walked over to a couple escapees that happened to be passing by.
"Phooey," thought the dragon, "no splatter."
"Oh, well," thought the boy. "Better luck next time, I suppose."
Heeeeyyyyy! I'm back from my week-long vacation, where I only posted about three times!
So, head's up: school starts in about a week. Right now, my school's going through some kind of random reorganization process, and I don't even know what classes I'll be taking yet, so I'm sorry if there's a delay in material around then. I'm not ignoring you, I'm just trying to get my real life together. Hey, we can't be superheroes all the time.
Also, I started naming the parts, like chapters. For instance, this one's named "Splatter." I went back and named the old ones, too. So now the "parts" are more like really short chapters. Just something you might want to know.
I really hope you've been enjoying my stuff! I know at least some of you have! I've gotten lots of new comments and emails about what I've been writing, and it makes me so happy! :) Keep it coming!
See you at The Restaurant At the End Of the Universe,
PolarFarina
The boy swept his blond hair out of his face. He really needed to get it cut, but it never made it into his schedule. He would have looked quite handsome, really, if it wasn't for the manic look in his differently colored eyes. No matter what he did, he seemed to come across as crazy before he even got a word in.
Curse his teenage impulses! He had to focus on the matter at hand, prepare for battle, not wish his eyes matched in color! He looked down at the dragon he was riding, using his sorcery to communicate mentally. They couldn't risk the criminals hearing their conversations, or else they may they turn against the dragon and himself, or give the information to The Super for something trivial like money, or freedom. It was quite easier to not even let them hear anything.
"Are you annoyed yet?" thought the boy.
"Huh? Sorry, I was so insanely bored my mind went numb. Could you repeat the question?" thought the dragon.
"Why don't we move forward? Cast a spell to get us all there faster?" asked the boy.
"What would the stupid people down there learn? That I'll always be there to take care of their sorry butts? That they don't have to a frickin' thing for themselves because the big scary dragon will fix everything? Yeah, right. I'm teaching them right off the bat that I'm no babysitter. Problem?"
"No, no problem," thought the boy in response. The dragon had picked up on how to intimidate quite well over the past few months. He didn't even use proper grammar or language anymore. It didn't subtract from the intimidation, really. In fact, it sort of added to it.
"Good," thought the dragon. "There are plenty of circumstances that I don't want to repeat. Starting here. Now, I do have a question for you. If you're willing."
"Go ahead," thought the boy.
"What the hell am I supposed to with this star guy? I've been carrying him all night long."
"Oh," thought the boy. Honestly, he'd forgotten about it. "You can go ahead and drop him now. He's learned his lesson, I believe."
"Good," thought the dragon. "I need some entertainment."
And with that, he released his grip on the creature in his claws. He watched in earnest as it fell, and hit the ground with a large foomph. The figure got up after a few seconds, and walked over to a couple escapees that happened to be passing by.
"Phooey," thought the dragon, "no splatter."
"Oh, well," thought the boy. "Better luck next time, I suppose."
Heeeeyyyyy! I'm back from my week-long vacation, where I only posted about three times!
So, head's up: school starts in about a week. Right now, my school's going through some kind of random reorganization process, and I don't even know what classes I'll be taking yet, so I'm sorry if there's a delay in material around then. I'm not ignoring you, I'm just trying to get my real life together. Hey, we can't be superheroes all the time.
Also, I started naming the parts, like chapters. For instance, this one's named "Splatter." I went back and named the old ones, too. So now the "parts" are more like really short chapters. Just something you might want to know.
I really hope you've been enjoying my stuff! I know at least some of you have! I've gotten lots of new comments and emails about what I've been writing, and it makes me so happy! :) Keep it coming!
See you at The Restaurant At the End Of the Universe,
PolarFarina
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
The Super, Part Six: Plans
It was time to form a plan. I mean, if you're going against an army, you've got to have a plan. The problem was, everyone kept arguing about it. Most of the plans they came up with had a major flaw someone pointed out, or needed one more person, or just didn't make sense to anyone else.
Not that Cassandra was really paying attention. At least, not to the conversation. She was paying attention to how the people treated her, and was guessing how old they thought she was. She was always being mistaken for being older than she actually was, and these people were no different. It was sort of a game to her now. Because she was a superhero, people gave her a bit more slack, but they really shouldn't.
Let's see, she thought. The Super thought she was twelve or so. He gave her the most respect, treated her like she deserved to be acknowledged at all times. But he also took the time to explain concepts that were a bit more complex than how to put mustard on a hot dog. Alfonso probably thought she was ten. He treated her with respect, but also a bit more like a kid, acting like trivial things were the most important, like they are to most children.
But Rose? Rose saw through it all. She knew that Cassandra was only eight. She wasn't sure why or how Rose figured it out. But she stared at Cassandra, like she knew that she took advantage of looking like she was four years older than she was. She glared at her for that, or at least that's what it seemed. But she also defended Cassandra. It seemed like she had the least respect for her, but at the same time treated her like a real person.
This Rose was definitely weird. Why did she say they were the same person? Obviously, they weren't. Cassandra had a bunch of super awesome superpowers, and Rose didn't. Plus Cassandra hated guns. Rose was what, eighteen? The ten-year age gap should be proof enough. Why would someone even think they were the same person?
Who did Rose think she was, anyway? Time travel? That's impossible. Cassandra knew because she tried it out one time. It didn't end well. Space travel? Rose didn't even have a spaceship, or a spacesuit, so how'd she travel in space?
It was like how everyone kept looking at her funny. Not just these guys; everyone. Every time she went out in public she'd get weird looks. Cassandra just didn't get it. She was a superhero. Shouldn't they like her for doing good deeds?
She could understand how infinite the universe was, but not why she couldn't fit in. She wished this "end of the world" thing would be over and she could go home and play video games. The internet seemed to understand her more than real life.
"Cassandra," said The Super. "You heard me, right?"
"Yeah," she said, nodding.
"Great, then it's settled," said The Super. "Let's go save the world."
Yay! I'm glad I'm writing, even though I'm not at home. It's great to have this blog, and to have you guys. If you didn't hear, this blog just hit 1,000 views yesterday. Which is AWESOME! Thanks, so much, you guys!
Because I'm not at home, plans for the art part of the comic have been postponed. Basically, that means I won't be able to move on with my drawings until Sunday, or maybe even Monday. It can't stop me from writing, though!
Tada, I did something,
PolarFarina
Not that Cassandra was really paying attention. At least, not to the conversation. She was paying attention to how the people treated her, and was guessing how old they thought she was. She was always being mistaken for being older than she actually was, and these people were no different. It was sort of a game to her now. Because she was a superhero, people gave her a bit more slack, but they really shouldn't.
Let's see, she thought. The Super thought she was twelve or so. He gave her the most respect, treated her like she deserved to be acknowledged at all times. But he also took the time to explain concepts that were a bit more complex than how to put mustard on a hot dog. Alfonso probably thought she was ten. He treated her with respect, but also a bit more like a kid, acting like trivial things were the most important, like they are to most children.
But Rose? Rose saw through it all. She knew that Cassandra was only eight. She wasn't sure why or how Rose figured it out. But she stared at Cassandra, like she knew that she took advantage of looking like she was four years older than she was. She glared at her for that, or at least that's what it seemed. But she also defended Cassandra. It seemed like she had the least respect for her, but at the same time treated her like a real person.
This Rose was definitely weird. Why did she say they were the same person? Obviously, they weren't. Cassandra had a bunch of super awesome superpowers, and Rose didn't. Plus Cassandra hated guns. Rose was what, eighteen? The ten-year age gap should be proof enough. Why would someone even think they were the same person?
Who did Rose think she was, anyway? Time travel? That's impossible. Cassandra knew because she tried it out one time. It didn't end well. Space travel? Rose didn't even have a spaceship, or a spacesuit, so how'd she travel in space?
It was like how everyone kept looking at her funny. Not just these guys; everyone. Every time she went out in public she'd get weird looks. Cassandra just didn't get it. She was a superhero. Shouldn't they like her for doing good deeds?
She could understand how infinite the universe was, but not why she couldn't fit in. She wished this "end of the world" thing would be over and she could go home and play video games. The internet seemed to understand her more than real life.
"Cassandra," said The Super. "You heard me, right?"
"Yeah," she said, nodding.
"Great, then it's settled," said The Super. "Let's go save the world."
Yay! I'm glad I'm writing, even though I'm not at home. It's great to have this blog, and to have you guys. If you didn't hear, this blog just hit 1,000 views yesterday. Which is AWESOME! Thanks, so much, you guys!
Because I'm not at home, plans for the art part of the comic have been postponed. Basically, that means I won't be able to move on with my drawings until Sunday, or maybe even Monday. It can't stop me from writing, though!
Tada, I did something,
PolarFarina
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
1000
So, in case you didn't hear, my blog has now gotten 1,000 views. I don't even know where they all came from, which means it's even more important to me. See, if I had gotten them all from friends and family over the course of a few years, it wouldn't mean as much. Sure, they'd be supporting me, but they always support me. I know they're there.
But this happened in, like, a month. Which is AWESOME! I don't even know some of you guys, which just shows that you're not supporting me because you feel bad for me, or you feel obliged to.
You're supporting me because you really think my blog is cool. And that is a HUGE step. For me, at least. I'm an ordinary person, from a small, ordinary town. I'm used to being ordinary. I've grown up with ordinary, being ordinary.
But this right here? This is extraordinary! In just a month we've accomplished so much! Think of what we could accomplish in the future!
Just the possibilities are blowing my mind. Just what we've already done has already blown my mind.
So thank you.
I feel so accomplished, thanks to you guys,
PolarFarina :)
But this happened in, like, a month. Which is AWESOME! I don't even know some of you guys, which just shows that you're not supporting me because you feel bad for me, or you feel obliged to.
You're supporting me because you really think my blog is cool. And that is a HUGE step. For me, at least. I'm an ordinary person, from a small, ordinary town. I'm used to being ordinary. I've grown up with ordinary, being ordinary.
But this right here? This is extraordinary! In just a month we've accomplished so much! Think of what we could accomplish in the future!
Just the possibilities are blowing my mind. Just what we've already done has already blown my mind.
So thank you.
I feel so accomplished, thanks to you guys,
PolarFarina :)
Monday, August 18, 2014
The Super, Part Five: North
This is not what he expected. He, lord of all stars, "Savior of the Universe," expected everything. And, looking back on it, he'd made a stupid impression on those two Earth criminals. What were their names? Fighter and T-Bone? Bah. He was terrible with names anyways.
So terrible, in fact, he'd forgotten his own name. When this piece of information was needed, he'd say something like, "In your language, it cannot be pronounced," or "It's not important at this time" or "Isn't 'Lord of All Stars' good enough for you?"
He was ashamed. How long had he lived? Only two billion years? The measly fifty-one he'd done in prison had seemed like naptime, but he was still very young. Already he'd forgotten his name, and that didn't usually happen until four or five billion years-- this planet was driving him mad. It would serve him much better populated by his own people.
He felt the claws of the dragon tighten around his body. The wind picked up. He wondered where this dragon was taking him-- somewhere they take stupid people, probably. The dragon, with him in its claws, was lazily flying above the crowd of criminals it had helped to escape. The sun had long since set, and the air was settling into a chill. He breathed in the cool air. The adventure was in the journey, after all.
It's the reason he left-- it's boring being a star. All you do is hang around suspended in space for a few billion years, shining until you die. That life might be okay for some stars, but it just wasn't for him. So he packed up his stuff and went to conquer the world.
He looked up at the sky, the stars he used to know shining in the night. Something... was off tonight. Something was missing.
As he scanned the sky, he couldn't help but overhear the conversations going on below him.
"Hey," said someone. "I just love starry nights."
"Yeah," said someone else. "You can use the North Star to navigate just about-- hey! Where is the North Star?"
"What do you mean?" asked the first guy. He looked up at the sky again. "Oh, man, that is weird. I wonder when it disappeared? You know, because of the time it takes for light to travels so far, right now is years and years behind of what's actually going on up there."
The Star Guy turned his face to the sky again, searching for an old home long forgotten.
North.
So, Yay! I'm happy! I'm writing, even though I'm very, very far from home. And you know what else?
According to when I posted this, my blog currently holds at 981 pageviews, only NINETEEN away from ONE THOUSAND.
You guys? You guys rock. Thanks a lot. I've already written a tribute to you guys titled, "I love you guys," and if you haven't read it yet I suggest you do. Because you guys are so awesome the universe explodes because you rock so much.
I'm loving the internet today,
PolarFarina
So terrible, in fact, he'd forgotten his own name. When this piece of information was needed, he'd say something like, "In your language, it cannot be pronounced," or "It's not important at this time" or "Isn't 'Lord of All Stars' good enough for you?"
He was ashamed. How long had he lived? Only two billion years? The measly fifty-one he'd done in prison had seemed like naptime, but he was still very young. Already he'd forgotten his name, and that didn't usually happen until four or five billion years-- this planet was driving him mad. It would serve him much better populated by his own people.
He felt the claws of the dragon tighten around his body. The wind picked up. He wondered where this dragon was taking him-- somewhere they take stupid people, probably. The dragon, with him in its claws, was lazily flying above the crowd of criminals it had helped to escape. The sun had long since set, and the air was settling into a chill. He breathed in the cool air. The adventure was in the journey, after all.
It's the reason he left-- it's boring being a star. All you do is hang around suspended in space for a few billion years, shining until you die. That life might be okay for some stars, but it just wasn't for him. So he packed up his stuff and went to conquer the world.
He looked up at the sky, the stars he used to know shining in the night. Something... was off tonight. Something was missing.
As he scanned the sky, he couldn't help but overhear the conversations going on below him.
"Hey," said someone. "I just love starry nights."
"Yeah," said someone else. "You can use the North Star to navigate just about-- hey! Where is the North Star?"
"What do you mean?" asked the first guy. He looked up at the sky again. "Oh, man, that is weird. I wonder when it disappeared? You know, because of the time it takes for light to travels so far, right now is years and years behind of what's actually going on up there."
The Star Guy turned his face to the sky again, searching for an old home long forgotten.
North.
So, Yay! I'm happy! I'm writing, even though I'm very, very far from home. And you know what else?
According to when I posted this, my blog currently holds at 981 pageviews, only NINETEEN away from ONE THOUSAND.
You guys? You guys rock. Thanks a lot. I've already written a tribute to you guys titled, "I love you guys," and if you haven't read it yet I suggest you do. Because you guys are so awesome the universe explodes because you rock so much.
I'm loving the internet today,
PolarFarina
Sunday, August 17, 2014
The Super, Part Four: New Recruits
The Super sat at a cafe. He was worried. He was always worried, but there had been a distinct lull in criminal activity lately. This would normally have put other heroes at ease, but it just made him nervous. The sorcerer boy and the dragon had left, sure, but they had left him a promise: That they'd be back. That was about six months ago.
Now, crime seemed hard to come by. Sure, the usual petty stuff hadn't changed much, but that wasn't the Super's "job." He was a superhero, who supposedly only took care of real threats, people who could maybe even be thought of as "Supervillains." Everyone knew that wasn't the case, that he took out criminals, young or old, big or small. But now, it seemed like he was running out of people to fight. It seemed like he was almost losing his purpose. And that didn't sit well with him. He knew something big was about to happen. It always calms down before a storm hits. The problem was, when was the storm going to hit? He couldn't stop guarding himself, thinking there was danger behind every corner, and it was starting to get frustrating. He wanted to relax, but he couldn't do so because what if they came back? He'd be unguarded! And then--
His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. He didn't even used to have a phone. It was a new idea that the people thought of; if they needed help they could call him. It was a work in progress, mainly because hardly anyone even knew he had a phone.
"Hello?" he answered.
"Hi," said the voice at the other end of the phone. It was Billy, the guy in charge back at the.... place they keep track of superheroes and supervillains. The Super even was a superhero, and he didn't know what it was called.
"Hi, Billy," said The Super. "What do you have for me this time?"
"I'm sorry, but... They're back."
"The dragon and the boy? Really?"
"Yeah," said Billy. "Made a huge show of it too, breaking all the convicts out of section ten."
"Oh, man," said The Super. "Well, I'm glad to have something to do again, but unfortunately I can't tackle this alone."
"What, you mean..."
"Yes," said The Super, "I'll have to assemble a team."
Three days later, he stood in front of a group of three people.
"So..." said The Super. "You're all here to fight against the dragon and his army, right?"
"Sure," said one, a girl of maybe eighteen. She was wearing some kind of dress shirt and dinner jacket combination with black skinny jeans and some red Converse shoes. It looked kind of weird for a superhero. It wasn't like they were eating a fancy dinner, or anything. "I mean, I've fought before, in a real war, a war that stretched across time itself--"
"Okay, Doctor, just tell us your name."
"I'm Rose. Come from another dimension, another time. But since I fixed all the problems there, I thought I'd come and help over here. Got a problem with that?"
"Not yet," replied The Super.
"Well, I don't actually have any powers," said another, this time a boy of about the same age as Rose, maybe a bit older. He was wearing a leather jacket on top of a plain, faded maroon T-shirt. "But I do know a heck of a lot about sorcery. I was told we'd be fighting against a sorcerer?"
"That is true," said The Super. "Glad to have you on the team, uh..."
"Alfonso," said the boy.
"Well, I do have powers, and a lot of them," said the last, a tallish girl of about twelve years. She wore some kind of red skin-tight body suit and a blue cape with a yellow circular logo on the back. A classic superhero outfit. Wow, thought The Super, they just keep getting younger. She continued, "I can fly, I'm really strong, I can shoot fire, I have laser eyes--"
"So you're useful," interrupted The Super. She'd started listing off exactly the same powers as his own. That was strange, but still, even if she was exactly the same, it's better to have two Supers than just one. "And what's your name?"
"Cassandra," she replied.
"Gah," said Rose. "Not another one."
"Uh," said The Super, "Is there a problem?"
"I thought she looked familiar," said Rose, still not answering the question. "Funny, I don't remember the blond hair, or the powers, but whatever."
"Uh," said The Super, again. "What?"
"Oh, like I told you, I've crossed dimensions, time-lines, you name it. So it comes to reason that in every dimension, there's one of me, maybe older, maybe younger, maybe a rebel, maybe quite ordinary. Of course, the same could be said for everybody, but hardly anyone gets to meet their alternative selves. Apparently, in almost every other world, my first name is Cassandra, or Cassie, or Cass, or whichever spelling you prefer. In the other dimensions, my middle name's Rose, but with me, it's my first name."
"Um," said Cassandra, "does that mean we're related, or...?"
"No, dummy, it means we're the same person. I'm just older and don't have powers," said Rose.
"Wait, wait, wait," said The Super, "I asked for superheroes. You know, with powers? I can deal with Alfonso, because he's got quite a bit of useful information, but you? Why didn't you tell me you didn't have powers from the beginning? You would've wasted a lot less of my time."
Rose flung her arm out, pointing right at The Super's head. With a gun.
"Because I've been in combat," she said, "and I need a job, and you need to take out a dragon. So, win-win. No other questions needed." She took the gun down, and put it back in its holster. He hadn't noticed it earlier; the gun or the holster. The gun itself didn't look like a normal gun, more like a hunk of silver metal shaped so it could be held easily. To the untrained eye, it didn't look dangerous at all. But when it was up against his forehead, he could feel the power coming off that thing. He could use that kind of power, especially since what they were facing was so powerful.
"Well, now," he said. "Isn't this going to be exciting." He looked around; The dimensional freak, the know-it-all who's clearly hiding something, and the clueless hero.
"Who wants to take down a dragon?"
Part four of the Super! Yeah! This time you get to know what The Super's doing! Except you already read it, so why am I explaining it?
Still hanging out with my grandparents. It's not looking like a "log" will be made, but I'll do my best to keep writing on The Super this week. Excitement!
That's about it right now. Thanks for reading, even when I'm not being consistent!
Summer is fun,
PolarFarina
Now, crime seemed hard to come by. Sure, the usual petty stuff hadn't changed much, but that wasn't the Super's "job." He was a superhero, who supposedly only took care of real threats, people who could maybe even be thought of as "Supervillains." Everyone knew that wasn't the case, that he took out criminals, young or old, big or small. But now, it seemed like he was running out of people to fight. It seemed like he was almost losing his purpose. And that didn't sit well with him. He knew something big was about to happen. It always calms down before a storm hits. The problem was, when was the storm going to hit? He couldn't stop guarding himself, thinking there was danger behind every corner, and it was starting to get frustrating. He wanted to relax, but he couldn't do so because what if they came back? He'd be unguarded! And then--
His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. He didn't even used to have a phone. It was a new idea that the people thought of; if they needed help they could call him. It was a work in progress, mainly because hardly anyone even knew he had a phone.
"Hello?" he answered.
"Hi," said the voice at the other end of the phone. It was Billy, the guy in charge back at the.... place they keep track of superheroes and supervillains. The Super even was a superhero, and he didn't know what it was called.
"Hi, Billy," said The Super. "What do you have for me this time?"
"I'm sorry, but... They're back."
"The dragon and the boy? Really?"
"Yeah," said Billy. "Made a huge show of it too, breaking all the convicts out of section ten."
"Oh, man," said The Super. "Well, I'm glad to have something to do again, but unfortunately I can't tackle this alone."
"What, you mean..."
"Yes," said The Super, "I'll have to assemble a team."
Three days later, he stood in front of a group of three people.
"So..." said The Super. "You're all here to fight against the dragon and his army, right?"
"Sure," said one, a girl of maybe eighteen. She was wearing some kind of dress shirt and dinner jacket combination with black skinny jeans and some red Converse shoes. It looked kind of weird for a superhero. It wasn't like they were eating a fancy dinner, or anything. "I mean, I've fought before, in a real war, a war that stretched across time itself--"
"Okay, Doctor, just tell us your name."
"I'm Rose. Come from another dimension, another time. But since I fixed all the problems there, I thought I'd come and help over here. Got a problem with that?"
"Not yet," replied The Super.
"Well, I don't actually have any powers," said another, this time a boy of about the same age as Rose, maybe a bit older. He was wearing a leather jacket on top of a plain, faded maroon T-shirt. "But I do know a heck of a lot about sorcery. I was told we'd be fighting against a sorcerer?"
"That is true," said The Super. "Glad to have you on the team, uh..."
"Alfonso," said the boy.
"Well, I do have powers, and a lot of them," said the last, a tallish girl of about twelve years. She wore some kind of red skin-tight body suit and a blue cape with a yellow circular logo on the back. A classic superhero outfit. Wow, thought The Super, they just keep getting younger. She continued, "I can fly, I'm really strong, I can shoot fire, I have laser eyes--"
"So you're useful," interrupted The Super. She'd started listing off exactly the same powers as his own. That was strange, but still, even if she was exactly the same, it's better to have two Supers than just one. "And what's your name?"
"Cassandra," she replied.
"Gah," said Rose. "Not another one."
"Uh," said The Super, "Is there a problem?"
"I thought she looked familiar," said Rose, still not answering the question. "Funny, I don't remember the blond hair, or the powers, but whatever."
"Uh," said The Super, again. "What?"
"Oh, like I told you, I've crossed dimensions, time-lines, you name it. So it comes to reason that in every dimension, there's one of me, maybe older, maybe younger, maybe a rebel, maybe quite ordinary. Of course, the same could be said for everybody, but hardly anyone gets to meet their alternative selves. Apparently, in almost every other world, my first name is Cassandra, or Cassie, or Cass, or whichever spelling you prefer. In the other dimensions, my middle name's Rose, but with me, it's my first name."
"Um," said Cassandra, "does that mean we're related, or...?"
"No, dummy, it means we're the same person. I'm just older and don't have powers," said Rose.
"Wait, wait, wait," said The Super, "I asked for superheroes. You know, with powers? I can deal with Alfonso, because he's got quite a bit of useful information, but you? Why didn't you tell me you didn't have powers from the beginning? You would've wasted a lot less of my time."
Rose flung her arm out, pointing right at The Super's head. With a gun.
"Because I've been in combat," she said, "and I need a job, and you need to take out a dragon. So, win-win. No other questions needed." She took the gun down, and put it back in its holster. He hadn't noticed it earlier; the gun or the holster. The gun itself didn't look like a normal gun, more like a hunk of silver metal shaped so it could be held easily. To the untrained eye, it didn't look dangerous at all. But when it was up against his forehead, he could feel the power coming off that thing. He could use that kind of power, especially since what they were facing was so powerful.
"Well, now," he said. "Isn't this going to be exciting." He looked around; The dimensional freak, the know-it-all who's clearly hiding something, and the clueless hero.
"Who wants to take down a dragon?"
Part four of the Super! Yeah! This time you get to know what The Super's doing! Except you already read it, so why am I explaining it?
Still hanging out with my grandparents. It's not looking like a "log" will be made, but I'll do my best to keep writing on The Super this week. Excitement!
That's about it right now. Thanks for reading, even when I'm not being consistent!
Summer is fun,
PolarFarina
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Staying Up Too Late Does Weird Things to Your Mind
So, the other day, Blaze, my sister, and I had a sleepover. It was pretty average, except for the fact that we stayed up until like 3 A.M. At one point, we got really bored and decided to play Writing Telephone.
Basically, Writing Telephone works like this: you get a group of three or more people, and choose someone to go first. This person writes one or two sentences to start it off, then folds the top of the paper down so that only the last written line is visible. Then you pass it to the next person, who adds onto the visible words, then folds it again, and passes it to the next person.
This is our first late-night game of Writing Telephone:
Once, there was a random girl. Her name was Clarice and she loved to bake. So she made a double deckered cake. It was so delicious, everyone went home early. But it didn't matter. They had to because of the huge elephant that had come into the house and eaten ALL THE COOKIES. Darn it, Kirby. Why do you have to eat everything? Go get on your Warp Star already. Now he got REALLY jellous! (This is direct from the page, by the way. Not everyone can be as good of a speller as I am.) And da fly took all the balloons. How did the fly manage it? I don't know. Anyhow, he got away from the cat. And never ate tofu again. "Aw, man," said Mark. "I love tofu." "Well," said PBG, "I can't think of anything better." And he walked off to make another video.
Think that's weird? How about the second one?
Once upon a year, PBG was making a video. Unlike his usual self, it was about the hottest new celebrities. (By 'hottest' I meant 'most popular'. I think I neglected to explain this to the others.) Including his least favorite -- Mily Cirus. (Taken straight from the text, in case you forgot. Misspellings at 3 A.M., I think, are excusable.) Ginga Ninja suddenly came in, listening to Wrecking ball and singing along to Jingle Bells. It didn't fit the mood, because it wasn't Christmas. But, you know, whatever floats your goat.
"Sorry, I don't have a goat that floats."
PBG was frustrated, now that he was drowning. He tried to say, "Curse you, Perry!" but it sounded more like "Blurg, blurrrrp!" because of the water.
"Now, give me my information!" he yelled.
"Never!" And the reocurring fly jumped off the cliff.
"No! Fly! Whyyyyyyyy?!" shouted PBG.
"So you can get to the other side!" Markiplier had no response. So he went looking for a blacksmith.
"WHERE'S THE BLACKSMITH!?" he asked. Then Hulk showed up.
"HULK SMASH!!!!" he yelled out to them. But they fly grabbed him and saved the day. "Wait," said PBG, "I thought he jumped off the cliff."
"Why would he do something stupid like that?!"
"... Because he's an idiot." she answered.
"Aren't they all idiots?" asked Black Mage.
"Mostly idiods." replied Lassie.
"That explains everything!" Steve exclaimed. "Too bad this was all a dream," said Rainbow.
"Oh NOOO!! It was only a dream!!" Rainbow screemed.
"Well, shut up, then," said the fly, clearly annoyed. Then he flew away.
So there they are, spelling mistakes and all. It occurs to me that we had recently been playing Tomodachi Life, a game for the Nintendo DS that is almost impossible to explain. It's sort of a cross between Animal Crossing and The Sims. We played a bit too much of it, if you ask me. It stemmed a lot of this.
You think this is funny? Well, good. 'Cause it is. Looking forward to having some fun next week. If you haven't heard that I won't be here, go read the post titled "I love you guys" because it explains it in detail.
Working on The Super some more, this time it's actually going to be from The Super's point of view!! I'm excited again!! I've told you enough times that I just love this. All of it. This whole thing, right here. The blog, the comic, you guys, the whole shebang.
Thanks again for just existing,
PolarFarina
Basically, Writing Telephone works like this: you get a group of three or more people, and choose someone to go first. This person writes one or two sentences to start it off, then folds the top of the paper down so that only the last written line is visible. Then you pass it to the next person, who adds onto the visible words, then folds it again, and passes it to the next person.
This is our first late-night game of Writing Telephone:
Once, there was a random girl. Her name was Clarice and she loved to bake. So she made a double deckered cake. It was so delicious, everyone went home early. But it didn't matter. They had to because of the huge elephant that had come into the house and eaten ALL THE COOKIES. Darn it, Kirby. Why do you have to eat everything? Go get on your Warp Star already. Now he got REALLY jellous! (This is direct from the page, by the way. Not everyone can be as good of a speller as I am.) And da fly took all the balloons. How did the fly manage it? I don't know. Anyhow, he got away from the cat. And never ate tofu again. "Aw, man," said Mark. "I love tofu." "Well," said PBG, "I can't think of anything better." And he walked off to make another video.
Think that's weird? How about the second one?
Once upon a year, PBG was making a video. Unlike his usual self, it was about the hottest new celebrities. (By 'hottest' I meant 'most popular'. I think I neglected to explain this to the others.) Including his least favorite -- Mily Cirus. (Taken straight from the text, in case you forgot. Misspellings at 3 A.M., I think, are excusable.) Ginga Ninja suddenly came in, listening to Wrecking ball and singing along to Jingle Bells. It didn't fit the mood, because it wasn't Christmas. But, you know, whatever floats your goat.
"Sorry, I don't have a goat that floats."
PBG was frustrated, now that he was drowning. He tried to say, "Curse you, Perry!" but it sounded more like "Blurg, blurrrrp!" because of the water.
"Now, give me my information!" he yelled.
"Never!" And the reocurring fly jumped off the cliff.
"No! Fly! Whyyyyyyyy?!" shouted PBG.
"So you can get to the other side!" Markiplier had no response. So he went looking for a blacksmith.
"WHERE'S THE BLACKSMITH!?" he asked. Then Hulk showed up.
"HULK SMASH!!!!" he yelled out to them. But they fly grabbed him and saved the day. "Wait," said PBG, "I thought he jumped off the cliff."
"Why would he do something stupid like that?!"
"... Because he's an idiot." she answered.
"Aren't they all idiots?" asked Black Mage.
"Mostly idiods." replied Lassie.
"That explains everything!" Steve exclaimed. "Too bad this was all a dream," said Rainbow.
"Oh NOOO!! It was only a dream!!" Rainbow screemed.
"Well, shut up, then," said the fly, clearly annoyed. Then he flew away.
So there they are, spelling mistakes and all. It occurs to me that we had recently been playing Tomodachi Life, a game for the Nintendo DS that is almost impossible to explain. It's sort of a cross between Animal Crossing and The Sims. We played a bit too much of it, if you ask me. It stemmed a lot of this.
You think this is funny? Well, good. 'Cause it is. Looking forward to having some fun next week. If you haven't heard that I won't be here, go read the post titled "I love you guys" because it explains it in detail.
Working on The Super some more, this time it's actually going to be from The Super's point of view!! I'm excited again!! I've told you enough times that I just love this. All of it. This whole thing, right here. The blog, the comic, you guys, the whole shebang.
Thanks again for just existing,
PolarFarina
I love you guys
Have I told you how much I love this blog? I love to write, I love putting it out in the open, and I love that you guys love my writing back.
Just to give you an idea, about two or three months ago, this blog had around 150 views. It was mostly my friends and family checking it out, the really close ones, and I did a lot of re-reading, so about a third of it was just me. Sometimes, I'd even forget this blog existed. But last month-ish, I made you guys a promise. I've been doing my best to fulfill that promise, and though I haven't been doing as well as I'd hoped, you guys have been there for me the whole way through. I started posting almost daily, and you guys responded. Big-time.
Now this blog is extremely close to hitting 900 views.
I know a couple weeks ago I told you I was excited for it hitting 600 views. But now, I'm excited for it to hit one thousand. I can't believe we've come this far. I love this, all of it. You're making me feel famous. Like, really famous. It makes me feel like my dreams weren't actually that unrealistic. And I just think that's awesome. The kind of awesome that makes the universe explode with coolness because it rocks so much.
As you might be able to tell, I'm having trouble putting this into words. Just know that I wouldn't have gotten here without you readers, and I'm really thankful for it. Don't stop checking this blog, because I'm going to continue until I can't write anymore because I've sprained my fingers from so much typing. And then I'll write even more.
I know I say this almost every time I post something, but it's true: I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR YOUR FEEDBACK. If you can't comment for whatever dumb reason Google has, then email me at polarfarina@gmail.com because I'd love to hear from you! Seriously!
Okay, I know I said that I won't ever stop writing, but starting on Friday, the 15th, I'm going to spend the week at my grandparent's house. It's sort of a "Grandma Camp," where we go swimming, learn to kayak, bake bread, build stuff (Like bird feeders, although a few years ago we helped build furniture when they bought some new stuff from IKEA), sew dolls and/or quilts, and stay up late watching movies while eating really awesome popcorn. I'll do my best to post while I'm away, but my grandparents are very spry for their age and are ALWAYS giving me something really cool to do. So I'm sorry if I don't follow up on the "almost daily" thing. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. If I can, I'll try to post a log of what I do there, but I can't promise anything at this point.
I really do love you guys,
Polarfarina
Just to give you an idea, about two or three months ago, this blog had around 150 views. It was mostly my friends and family checking it out, the really close ones, and I did a lot of re-reading, so about a third of it was just me. Sometimes, I'd even forget this blog existed. But last month-ish, I made you guys a promise. I've been doing my best to fulfill that promise, and though I haven't been doing as well as I'd hoped, you guys have been there for me the whole way through. I started posting almost daily, and you guys responded. Big-time.
Now this blog is extremely close to hitting 900 views.
I know a couple weeks ago I told you I was excited for it hitting 600 views. But now, I'm excited for it to hit one thousand. I can't believe we've come this far. I love this, all of it. You're making me feel famous. Like, really famous. It makes me feel like my dreams weren't actually that unrealistic. And I just think that's awesome. The kind of awesome that makes the universe explode with coolness because it rocks so much.
As you might be able to tell, I'm having trouble putting this into words. Just know that I wouldn't have gotten here without you readers, and I'm really thankful for it. Don't stop checking this blog, because I'm going to continue until I can't write anymore because I've sprained my fingers from so much typing. And then I'll write even more.
I know I say this almost every time I post something, but it's true: I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR YOUR FEEDBACK. If you can't comment for whatever dumb reason Google has, then email me at polarfarina@gmail.com because I'd love to hear from you! Seriously!
Okay, I know I said that I won't ever stop writing, but starting on Friday, the 15th, I'm going to spend the week at my grandparent's house. It's sort of a "Grandma Camp," where we go swimming, learn to kayak, bake bread, build stuff (Like bird feeders, although a few years ago we helped build furniture when they bought some new stuff from IKEA), sew dolls and/or quilts, and stay up late watching movies while eating really awesome popcorn. I'll do my best to post while I'm away, but my grandparents are very spry for their age and are ALWAYS giving me something really cool to do. So I'm sorry if I don't follow up on the "almost daily" thing. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. If I can, I'll try to post a log of what I do there, but I can't promise anything at this point.
I really do love you guys,
Polarfarina
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
The Super, Part Three: Stupidity
"Hey, I have a question," said the guy who looked like a star. No one really knew his name, and he was pretty weird, to be honest.
"Shoot," said Biter.
"Might as well," replied Octo.
"Why don't we get to ride on the dragon? He broke us out of jail, and now he's just kind of flying above us like we're not here."
"Yeah," said Biter, "except that if he wanted to, he could fly faster than any of us can run. I think I'm okay being at a distance this time."
"This time?" questioned Octo.
"That, T-Bo, is a question to save for a time when we don't have a random star alien thing following us around questioning authority," replied Biter, tipping his head in the Star Guy's direction.
"No, seriously," said the Star Guy, "I want to know. He's sentient and can talk like us. Doesn't he know how hard this is, walking across the desert?"
"Hey, I have a question," said Biter.
"Go ahead," said the Star Guy.
"You're an alien, right? So how come you can speak English like us?"
"Because I was going to invade the planet to repopulate it with my own species," replied Star Guy, rather nonchalantly. "It would be rude not to be able to speak the language to tell them what's going on. It was either English, or Pig Latin."
"That," said Octo, "makes no sense. To learn Pig Latin you'd have to learn another language anyway."
"Why would you choose Pig Latin over other languages, like French, Chinese, or German? Heck, I never technically learned French, but I still know some. 'Bonjour, je suis Biter. Ca va?' Now you say how you're doing," said Biter.
"I didn't choose Pig Latin," said the Star Guy. "There are only two Earth languages in our database."
"Hm." Octo stared at the ground.
"So," said the Star Guy. "Back to the dragon."
"Why don't you ask him yourself? You'd stop wasting everyone's time," snapped Biter.
"Good idea," said the Star Guy. "HEY, DRAGON! WHY NOT GIVE US A RIDE, HUH?"
Biter and Octo cringed, carefully steering away from the Star Guy.
"I was being sarcastic," said Biter, the only audience to this being Octo.
"I knew that," said Octo, "but apparently Mr. Starry Eyes doesn't."
"T-Bo," said Biter, "do us all a favor. Never call him that again."
They both watched as the wings of the dragon flapped, silhouetted against the sunset, ever closer to the ground. The breeze felt good, but Biter and Octo veered even further away as their acquaintance was swooped up into the sky, presumably to never be seen again.
Here's part three. I like it too much to wait to publish it. So here it is. Earlier I posted part two, and if you haven't read it yet I suggest you do. Also, I'm writing from the criminal's point of view first because it's more fun. I know that it's fun for more than just me, too. Tomorrow I'll try to write something from the hero's point of view. Time to spoil the fun.
I love this stuff,
PolarFarina
"Shoot," said Biter.
"Might as well," replied Octo.
"Why don't we get to ride on the dragon? He broke us out of jail, and now he's just kind of flying above us like we're not here."
"Yeah," said Biter, "except that if he wanted to, he could fly faster than any of us can run. I think I'm okay being at a distance this time."
"This time?" questioned Octo.
"That, T-Bo, is a question to save for a time when we don't have a random star alien thing following us around questioning authority," replied Biter, tipping his head in the Star Guy's direction.
"No, seriously," said the Star Guy, "I want to know. He's sentient and can talk like us. Doesn't he know how hard this is, walking across the desert?"
"Hey, I have a question," said Biter.
"Go ahead," said the Star Guy.
"You're an alien, right? So how come you can speak English like us?"
"Because I was going to invade the planet to repopulate it with my own species," replied Star Guy, rather nonchalantly. "It would be rude not to be able to speak the language to tell them what's going on. It was either English, or Pig Latin."
"That," said Octo, "makes no sense. To learn Pig Latin you'd have to learn another language anyway."
"Why would you choose Pig Latin over other languages, like French, Chinese, or German? Heck, I never technically learned French, but I still know some. 'Bonjour, je suis Biter. Ca va?' Now you say how you're doing," said Biter.
"I didn't choose Pig Latin," said the Star Guy. "There are only two Earth languages in our database."
"Hm." Octo stared at the ground.
"So," said the Star Guy. "Back to the dragon."
"Why don't you ask him yourself? You'd stop wasting everyone's time," snapped Biter.
"Good idea," said the Star Guy. "HEY, DRAGON! WHY NOT GIVE US A RIDE, HUH?"
Biter and Octo cringed, carefully steering away from the Star Guy.
"I was being sarcastic," said Biter, the only audience to this being Octo.
"I knew that," said Octo, "but apparently Mr. Starry Eyes doesn't."
"T-Bo," said Biter, "do us all a favor. Never call him that again."
They both watched as the wings of the dragon flapped, silhouetted against the sunset, ever closer to the ground. The breeze felt good, but Biter and Octo veered even further away as their acquaintance was swooped up into the sky, presumably to never be seen again.
Here's part three. I like it too much to wait to publish it. So here it is. Earlier I posted part two, and if you haven't read it yet I suggest you do. Also, I'm writing from the criminal's point of view first because it's more fun. I know that it's fun for more than just me, too. Tomorrow I'll try to write something from the hero's point of view. Time to spoil the fun.
I love this stuff,
PolarFarina
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
The Super, Part Two: Finding Things
"Hey," said Biter. "Guess what I found."
"Pfft," scoffed The Blue Octo. "I don't care."
"What, just like that?" Biter shrugged. "It's like a reflex with you."
"There's a reason," replied Octo, "but you're too stupid to be able to comprehend it. You're a giant lizard that's supposed to be extinct combined with some other humanoid thing, so I hardly think you've get the intelligence."
"Oh, I think I understand," Biter said, folding his arms. "You would talk to people when you were in jail, because that put us at the same level. We were all stupid enough to get caught, and that's what kept us as equals. Roughly."
"But we're not in jail anymore, moron," Octo interrupted. "You must have forgotten- we escaped."
"Aha, but that's why you've changed suddenly. You automatically put yourself above everyone else, just like every other frickin' criminal here used to before they were captured. What, did it escape you that we're all working for the same cause? That the reason we're trekking across this desert in Arizona is to take out The Super? I know we all hate him, and would gladly see him dead. So why resist?"
"We aren't all working for the same cause," growled Octo.
"Right," laughed Biter, "and I'm walking across this desert among a bunch of escaped criminals just for the heck of it. No, I don't think so." He looked up to the sky, shading his eyes as as he continued to move along. "You're just too full of yourself to realize that maybe, for the time being, no one is working against you. Ease up a bit, it wasn't that hard in prison."
The Blue Octo clenched his jaw. "Fine. Where was I?"
"You were calling me stupid, T-Bo. I was asking if you wanted to see somethin' cool."
Octo glared, annoyed, at Biter. "Why must you call me that? I'm not a T-bone. I have no bones in my body to speak of, what with being an octopus, and all."
"Because that's your acronym," replied Biter, baring his teeth as he shook sand out from in between his clawed toes.
"My what?"
"The Blue Octo," said Biter. "Sort of stupid name. But, then again, there's been worse. T for 'The,' B for 'Blue,' and O for 'Octo.' Have you ever considered that you may the dumb one?"
"What is the 'cool' thing you've supposedly found?" asked Octo, annoyed further. He stared at the horizon, trying to get Biter to cease his infernal yapping. It occurred to him that inquiring further contradicted this, but it was too late anyway.
"I found a map," said Biter, looking dramatically into Octo's eyes, which was a little hard to do while walking in the middle of an Arizona desert surrounded by escaped convicts.
"A map leading where?" inquired Octo.
"I dunno," said Biter, "wanna find out?"
This is something that'll get incorporated into my comic. I just love writing it out first, and I'm so excited about this that I actually wrote this here "short story thing" in about five minutes. I'm still planning, but it's all coming together nicely. I've already got ten characters sketched out and their backgrounds outlined, something I have never really done before. I keep saying this, but I'm really loving writing this comic. I haven't even started drawing (past the first couple pages, which don't even have characters in them), but I know how this is going to play out. Usually my plan is to start writing and hope it turns out okay. I'm not big on planning ahead in the writing department, mainly because I'm still in school and every teacher I've ever had has tried to force a certain planning technique on me. But coming up with my own, man, that works.
Sorry about rambling. I'm excited. Can you tell?
Can't wait to tell you more,
PolarFarina
"Pfft," scoffed The Blue Octo. "I don't care."
"What, just like that?" Biter shrugged. "It's like a reflex with you."
"There's a reason," replied Octo, "but you're too stupid to be able to comprehend it. You're a giant lizard that's supposed to be extinct combined with some other humanoid thing, so I hardly think you've get the intelligence."
"Oh, I think I understand," Biter said, folding his arms. "You would talk to people when you were in jail, because that put us at the same level. We were all stupid enough to get caught, and that's what kept us as equals. Roughly."
"But we're not in jail anymore, moron," Octo interrupted. "You must have forgotten- we escaped."
"Aha, but that's why you've changed suddenly. You automatically put yourself above everyone else, just like every other frickin' criminal here used to before they were captured. What, did it escape you that we're all working for the same cause? That the reason we're trekking across this desert in Arizona is to take out The Super? I know we all hate him, and would gladly see him dead. So why resist?"
"We aren't all working for the same cause," growled Octo.
"Right," laughed Biter, "and I'm walking across this desert among a bunch of escaped criminals just for the heck of it. No, I don't think so." He looked up to the sky, shading his eyes as as he continued to move along. "You're just too full of yourself to realize that maybe, for the time being, no one is working against you. Ease up a bit, it wasn't that hard in prison."
The Blue Octo clenched his jaw. "Fine. Where was I?"
"You were calling me stupid, T-Bo. I was asking if you wanted to see somethin' cool."
Octo glared, annoyed, at Biter. "Why must you call me that? I'm not a T-bone. I have no bones in my body to speak of, what with being an octopus, and all."
"Because that's your acronym," replied Biter, baring his teeth as he shook sand out from in between his clawed toes.
"My what?"
"The Blue Octo," said Biter. "Sort of stupid name. But, then again, there's been worse. T for 'The,' B for 'Blue,' and O for 'Octo.' Have you ever considered that you may the dumb one?"
"What is the 'cool' thing you've supposedly found?" asked Octo, annoyed further. He stared at the horizon, trying to get Biter to cease his infernal yapping. It occurred to him that inquiring further contradicted this, but it was too late anyway.
"I found a map," said Biter, looking dramatically into Octo's eyes, which was a little hard to do while walking in the middle of an Arizona desert surrounded by escaped convicts.
"A map leading where?" inquired Octo.
"I dunno," said Biter, "wanna find out?"
This is something that'll get incorporated into my comic. I just love writing it out first, and I'm so excited about this that I actually wrote this here "short story thing" in about five minutes. I'm still planning, but it's all coming together nicely. I've already got ten characters sketched out and their backgrounds outlined, something I have never really done before. I keep saying this, but I'm really loving writing this comic. I haven't even started drawing (past the first couple pages, which don't even have characters in them), but I know how this is going to play out. Usually my plan is to start writing and hope it turns out okay. I'm not big on planning ahead in the writing department, mainly because I'm still in school and every teacher I've ever had has tried to force a certain planning technique on me. But coming up with my own, man, that works.
Sorry about rambling. I'm excited. Can you tell?
Can't wait to tell you more,
PolarFarina
Saturday, August 9, 2014
The Angry Brain
One upon a time, there was a girl. She was a quiet girl, but always loved to draw and write and read in her spare time. And if there was anything in the world she cared more about than that, it was her friends and family. She loved her family to death, but she always knew that they would stay with her, no matter what. They'd never choose to leave her.
But her friends, her friends she could lose. She cared about them too much to let them go, so she did everything she could for them. If they called her at midnight, she would talk to them and ask what was going on. If they needed a shoulder to cry on, she'd be there. If they needed a lunch, she'd give them hers. She put all of her effort into keeping her friends close, so that one day, they'd return the favor, and be there for her.
One night, she stayed up late. Actually, she stayed up a lot, but this was different. Her music was turned up louder than usual and she was sitting at her desk, scribbling away, using a hobby to distract herself.
Her mom knew something was up, so she went into the girl's room and asked her what was wrong. "Nothing," the girl replied, too quickly, too harshly. Her mom glanced at the ground and saw a crumpled piece of paper that hadn't quite made it into the trash bin. She picked it up to put it in the bin, and realized that it was a birthday card. Straightening it out, she read the name on the card, hand made by the girl, never sent to the intended friend.
"Hey," said the girl's mom, "I thought she was your friend."
"She's not," said the girl. "Friends don't skip a grade without telling you. Friends don't come back after half the year's gone by, and then ignore you. Friends don't do that. So I walked away."
"Hm," said the mom, worried for her daughter. "What about your other friend, the one that moved? Do you still talk to her?"
"She's not my friend, either," replied the girl. "It's been seven years since she moved away. She doesn't write. She won't reply to my emails, or friend requests on anything. She used to call, and email me all the time, and sometimes she sent a real letter by mail, but about three years ago she went silent. Friends don't stop talking to you without explanation. So I'm sorry, Mom, but they aren't my friends anymore. I've got new ones. They're better. They like me, they talk to me. We hang out all the time. Just because two friends are gone doesn't mean I can't make more, Mom."
"Well, then," replied the mom. "How are you feeling now?"
"Why are you asking me that?" The girl was annoyed at this, because her mom was always asking how she was feeling, but she answered anyway. "I'm feeling mad. I don't know why. Cleaning helps. But my room's already clean, so I draw."
"And the music?"
"My whole brain's yelling at me, trying to get me to be angry," said the girl. "I don't want to listen, so instead I listen to music. Okay with that, are you?"
"Oh, sure. As long as you don't wake the neighbors up, honey."
The mom walked out of the room to get ready for bed, herself. Her daughter was so independent, she knew she'd be okay. After all, the worst was still to come. She thought back, to the man she used to love....
The mother stayed up color-coding her clothes drawers that night. And organizing all the books on the shelf in alphabetical order. The girl came out of her room after a bit to brush teeth, and saw her mom.
"What are you doing?" she asked as the mom fussed over the bookshelf.
The mom shrugged. "Cleaning helps," she replied.
Okay, I don't really know why I wrote this. But I did. I had about ten minutes of spare time, and tada, here it is. It's sort of based on real events. Kind of. I'm not really going to elaborate. Sorry.
If you read this and think I'm trying to insult you, I'm not. Look, I'm the one who feels insulted here. And if you're reading this and happen to think you're one of the friends mentioned here, you might be. And in that case, I'd be happy to strike up a conversation. I'm not trying to kill friendships here. I'm trying to maintain them.
So I know this isn't as happy as some of the other stuff I've written, but hey, life isn't tea and cakes all the time. People make mistakes. Usually me. If you liked this, PLEASE TELL ME SO IN THE COMMENTS OR BY EMAIL. My email address is polarfarina@gmail.com. If you DIDN'T like it, please let me know as well. I'd like to hear feedback, even if it's negative. I love hearing from people, whatever the heck you have to say.
With that, I must depart for the night.
Hope to hear from you soon,
PolarFarina
AKA Cassie M.
But her friends, her friends she could lose. She cared about them too much to let them go, so she did everything she could for them. If they called her at midnight, she would talk to them and ask what was going on. If they needed a shoulder to cry on, she'd be there. If they needed a lunch, she'd give them hers. She put all of her effort into keeping her friends close, so that one day, they'd return the favor, and be there for her.
One night, she stayed up late. Actually, she stayed up a lot, but this was different. Her music was turned up louder than usual and she was sitting at her desk, scribbling away, using a hobby to distract herself.
Her mom knew something was up, so she went into the girl's room and asked her what was wrong. "Nothing," the girl replied, too quickly, too harshly. Her mom glanced at the ground and saw a crumpled piece of paper that hadn't quite made it into the trash bin. She picked it up to put it in the bin, and realized that it was a birthday card. Straightening it out, she read the name on the card, hand made by the girl, never sent to the intended friend.
"Hey," said the girl's mom, "I thought she was your friend."
"She's not," said the girl. "Friends don't skip a grade without telling you. Friends don't come back after half the year's gone by, and then ignore you. Friends don't do that. So I walked away."
"Hm," said the mom, worried for her daughter. "What about your other friend, the one that moved? Do you still talk to her?"
"She's not my friend, either," replied the girl. "It's been seven years since she moved away. She doesn't write. She won't reply to my emails, or friend requests on anything. She used to call, and email me all the time, and sometimes she sent a real letter by mail, but about three years ago she went silent. Friends don't stop talking to you without explanation. So I'm sorry, Mom, but they aren't my friends anymore. I've got new ones. They're better. They like me, they talk to me. We hang out all the time. Just because two friends are gone doesn't mean I can't make more, Mom."
"Well, then," replied the mom. "How are you feeling now?"
"Why are you asking me that?" The girl was annoyed at this, because her mom was always asking how she was feeling, but she answered anyway. "I'm feeling mad. I don't know why. Cleaning helps. But my room's already clean, so I draw."
"And the music?"
"My whole brain's yelling at me, trying to get me to be angry," said the girl. "I don't want to listen, so instead I listen to music. Okay with that, are you?"
"Oh, sure. As long as you don't wake the neighbors up, honey."
The mom walked out of the room to get ready for bed, herself. Her daughter was so independent, she knew she'd be okay. After all, the worst was still to come. She thought back, to the man she used to love....
The mother stayed up color-coding her clothes drawers that night. And organizing all the books on the shelf in alphabetical order. The girl came out of her room after a bit to brush teeth, and saw her mom.
"What are you doing?" she asked as the mom fussed over the bookshelf.
The mom shrugged. "Cleaning helps," she replied.
Okay, I don't really know why I wrote this. But I did. I had about ten minutes of spare time, and tada, here it is. It's sort of based on real events. Kind of. I'm not really going to elaborate. Sorry.
If you read this and think I'm trying to insult you, I'm not. Look, I'm the one who feels insulted here. And if you're reading this and happen to think you're one of the friends mentioned here, you might be. And in that case, I'd be happy to strike up a conversation. I'm not trying to kill friendships here. I'm trying to maintain them.
So I know this isn't as happy as some of the other stuff I've written, but hey, life isn't tea and cakes all the time. People make mistakes. Usually me. If you liked this, PLEASE TELL ME SO IN THE COMMENTS OR BY EMAIL. My email address is polarfarina@gmail.com. If you DIDN'T like it, please let me know as well. I'd like to hear feedback, even if it's negative. I love hearing from people, whatever the heck you have to say.
With that, I must depart for the night.
Hope to hear from you soon,
PolarFarina
AKA Cassie M.
Friday, August 8, 2014
More Poems!!
I was just looking back at my posts, and I can see that by far the thing that you love most about this blog is the poems. So here are some more for you, and I hope you like these ones just as much as the old ones. So far, I've got just five, but I'll try to write more, if you like these ones.
1. Drowning
Thoughts
there are too many
Why can't I stop thinking?
Brain rushing,
bustling like the subway
Too much noise
Noise that's not really there
I just want to think straight!
Running
No wait,
thinking of running
I get myself up to my room
Can't stop the subways
Plug in my iPod
No wait,
imagining plugging it in
I shove the music into my ears
Turn up the sound
I might not be able to stop the noise
but I can always drown it out
with something louder.
2. Teenage Stupidity
Spending time with a friend
at the carnival.
I love
the carnival.
We get on a ride
My friend's scared
but I get her to calm down
as the ride starts.
Spinning
round and round,
going upside down,
somehow this isn't as bad
as she thought
it would be.
She starts to laugh,
and I blink,
and somehow that very moment
is permanently burned into my brain.
Just two freinds having fun
grinning their faces off
as they get spun faster and faster
into giggly blurs
of teenage stupidity.
3. Forcing Creation
A blank page
A world of possibilities
Both everything
And nothing
How can you turn nothing
into something amazing?
Sometimes
it comes naturally
Sometimes,
I wonder at my abilities,
unable to comprehend how I
accomplished such a feat.
Artists
both a blessing
and a curse
You can't force creation
But sometimes they do it anyway
I wonder what would happen
if you were forced to eat
it's kind of the same thing
You can't eat if you're not hungry
You can't draw if you don't want to.
4. Even
I lie on the floor,
melting
into nothing.
At least,
that's what I want to happen.
But every time I open my eyes
I'm still here
sweating through my shirt
I hate the heat.
The heat hates me.
Air conditioning
such a luxury that I put up with
going to the store with my dad
just to feel and breathe the cool air.
I remember winter,
which seems so far away...
Cold, brisk air,
rolling through snow.
I can't see why anyone else would hate winter
But then again
They can't see why I hate summer.
So, I guess
we're even.
5. Loose Wire
Today
I feel weird.
It's not really a physical thing,
I just can't think right.
Mumbling, mumbling,
people asking what's wrong.
My mind's full of static
what happened to the usual stations?
Why can't I talk right?
I'm so tired...
I sit down and fall asleep
right away.
I wake up three hours later,
feeling like I've lost ten years,
and suddenly I can think again,
the static gone,
able to speak something other than
incoherent mumbles.
Huh.
Guess there was a wire loose.
1. Drowning
Thoughts
there are too many
Why can't I stop thinking?
Brain rushing,
bustling like the subway
Too much noise
Noise that's not really there
I just want to think straight!
Running
No wait,
thinking of running
I get myself up to my room
Can't stop the subways
Plug in my iPod
No wait,
imagining plugging it in
I shove the music into my ears
Turn up the sound
I might not be able to stop the noise
but I can always drown it out
with something louder.
2. Teenage Stupidity
Spending time with a friend
at the carnival.
I love
the carnival.
We get on a ride
My friend's scared
but I get her to calm down
as the ride starts.
Spinning
round and round,
going upside down,
somehow this isn't as bad
as she thought
it would be.
She starts to laugh,
and I blink,
and somehow that very moment
is permanently burned into my brain.
Just two freinds having fun
grinning their faces off
as they get spun faster and faster
into giggly blurs
of teenage stupidity.
3. Forcing Creation
A blank page
A world of possibilities
Both everything
And nothing
How can you turn nothing
into something amazing?
Sometimes
it comes naturally
Sometimes,
I wonder at my abilities,
unable to comprehend how I
accomplished such a feat.
Artists
both a blessing
and a curse
You can't force creation
But sometimes they do it anyway
I wonder what would happen
if you were forced to eat
it's kind of the same thing
You can't eat if you're not hungry
You can't draw if you don't want to.
4. Even
I lie on the floor,
melting
into nothing.
At least,
that's what I want to happen.
But every time I open my eyes
I'm still here
sweating through my shirt
I hate the heat.
The heat hates me.
Air conditioning
such a luxury that I put up with
going to the store with my dad
just to feel and breathe the cool air.
I remember winter,
which seems so far away...
Cold, brisk air,
rolling through snow.
I can't see why anyone else would hate winter
But then again
They can't see why I hate summer.
So, I guess
we're even.
5. Loose Wire
Today
I feel weird.
It's not really a physical thing,
I just can't think right.
Mumbling, mumbling,
people asking what's wrong.
My mind's full of static
what happened to the usual stations?
Why can't I talk right?
I'm so tired...
I sit down and fall asleep
right away.
I wake up three hours later,
feeling like I've lost ten years,
and suddenly I can think again,
the static gone,
able to speak something other than
incoherent mumbles.
Huh.
Guess there was a wire loose.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Guess what I did?
Hey, you know what? I actually figured out how to make a real title for my posts. That's something.
At least, I think I did...
So, head's up: I'm a lazy person. When I'm not being really lazy, I spend time trying to figure out how I'm going to make this comic work. I realize I'm going to actually create more than two characters, which is something I don't have much experience doing. Because of this, among other reasons I don't want to explain right now, I'm going to be collaborating with Blaze, possibly her brother, and my little sister RainbowSplasher.
See, when I started writing the intro I posted a few days ago, I realized something: Making a good, long-lasting comic takes planning. Something that, I have to say, I don't have much experience doing while writing, so please bear with me on this. I think I announced it a bit too early, and I feel pressured to get you guys some good material when I don't really have any yet. Because I have to plan, then pre-write, then adjust my plans, then draft, then actually draw some stuff, then draw it again, and then I'm able to get something that looks publishable. And I'm tired of apologizing for making you guys wait, but I want you to keep checking my blog anyways. I'll do my best to post other things in the meantime, but there may be gaps. That can't be helped, really. The good news is I am working on another post, but I keep getting off track while writing on it, so it'll be maybe a day or two before I get it posted.
That's about it for now, and I hope you're as excited for this new comic idea as I am!
-PolarFarina :)
At least, I think I did...
So, head's up: I'm a lazy person. When I'm not being really lazy, I spend time trying to figure out how I'm going to make this comic work. I realize I'm going to actually create more than two characters, which is something I don't have much experience doing. Because of this, among other reasons I don't want to explain right now, I'm going to be collaborating with Blaze, possibly her brother, and my little sister RainbowSplasher.
See, when I started writing the intro I posted a few days ago, I realized something: Making a good, long-lasting comic takes planning. Something that, I have to say, I don't have much experience doing while writing, so please bear with me on this. I think I announced it a bit too early, and I feel pressured to get you guys some good material when I don't really have any yet. Because I have to plan, then pre-write, then adjust my plans, then draft, then actually draw some stuff, then draw it again, and then I'm able to get something that looks publishable. And I'm tired of apologizing for making you guys wait, but I want you to keep checking my blog anyways. I'll do my best to post other things in the meantime, but there may be gaps. That can't be helped, really. The good news is I am working on another post, but I keep getting off track while writing on it, so it'll be maybe a day or two before I get it posted.
That's about it for now, and I hope you're as excited for this new comic idea as I am!
-PolarFarina :)
Monday, August 4, 2014
The Super, Part one: Escape
It's sunset in Arizona, about 7:00 PM. The sun setting turns the rocks and sand a burning red, bright like fire and hot enough to burn your skin, too. The landscape is completely barren, except for the winding road leading to a building labeled "Supervillain Jailhouse." Inside this jailhouse are the most awful and terrible criminals that ever existed. These are the guys who committed crimes of a greater scale.
It's an average dinnertime in jail, the guards hurrying the inmates along, who are biting back bitter comments as they sit down to their thrice daily serving of slop. The one known as Biter grimaces as he tries to swallow the stuff. "Could they have made this any more disgusting?" he asks. He's new, and the other inmates sitting at his table advise him to keep his voice down.
But everyone else silently nods in agreement anyway. It really is disgusting. What did they do to deserve this? Try to blow up the entire state of New York? Oh, please, they could've blown up the world if they wanted to. Try to steal the most secret of secrets it can't be put into words? Man, even if he did do that, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone. Plot to destroy the sun? It's been scientifically proven his theory didn't work, so it's not even a crime, technically.
Everyone grumbled, wishing they could get the heck out of there so they could continue with their plans to take over the world. Wouldn't it be amazing if something miraculously happened to break them free? Yeah, like that would happen. They talk about this every night, just wishes waiting to come true. But of course, wishes don't come true unless you make them. Or do they?
A slight rumble rolls through the cafeteria, barely a vibration, hardly even noticeable in the loud room filled with conversation. The only one who really notices is one called simply The Villain. This guy comes from another dimension, the exact opposite of the famous hero known as The Super. He's bred for evil, and the only reason he ever ended up here is that mix-up with the dimensions. He shouldn't even be here, he should be in his own world, living on a throne crafted of pure evil and nightmares. He messed up, and he knows he has to serve his time, but that doesn't make it any easier to sit here and take imprisonment.
Anyway, The Villain feels the vibration. He stops mid-sentence, and focuses only on the slight shaking in his water glass. He waits, patiently. The vibration goes by again, this time slightly stronger, and he smiles, ever so slightly, an evil grin as he realizes what's about to unfold.
Suddenly there's a muffled boom, an explosion going off in another room, and the sound of plates, glasses, and silverware jostling on the tables. The room immediately goes silent as the inmates listen to the sound of guards running through the corridors, calling for backup, giving orders and taking them. And then the sounds of battle, still muffled, far off. The inmates stand up, still for a moment as they look around at the now unguarded exits. The Villain stifles an evil laugh.
Then they make a run for it.
They run through the hallways, looking for the cause of the confusion and for a way out. And then there it is: a gaping hole where the main entrance doors used to be, the ragged edges burning. The inmates stomp out some of the fires, and climb out of the front of the building. A loud, grumbling roar tears through the air above the escapees, and none of them can believe their eyes. Except for The Villain. He saw it coming the whole time. But then again, he always does.
It's a dragon. Soaring majestically across the sky, silhouetted by the orange sky, it breathes fire at oncoming guards and police officers. Soon all opponents to the flying beast are either burning to a crisp or running for their lives. Satisfied with its work, the dragon touches down, and a figure slides off its back. As the group of escaped convicts comes nearer, they can see this figure is a teenage boy, maybe seventeen. His blond hair is blown into a crazy frenzy and he's covered in scorch marks, but he's grinning madly.
"Here's the plan," says the boy. "We are going to take out The Super."
The Villain smiles again at this. He's going to like this plan.
Just a sneak peak at the comic I'm writing for you guys! Stuff like this takes time, and that is something that is hardly ever on my side. I can feel you guys getting antsy, so I wrote this teaser to keep you occupied. Maybe it was just me getting antsy. Well, either way, here it is. Hope you think it's interesting, and feel free to give feedback! I've changed some settings so there should be less issues with commenting on my posts. Send me an email if it's still not working! My address is polarfarina@gmail.com, if you're too lazy to look at my profile to figure it out. I'm that kind of person, so I don't take it personally at all.
Love getting feedback, good or bad,
PolarFarina
It's an average dinnertime in jail, the guards hurrying the inmates along, who are biting back bitter comments as they sit down to their thrice daily serving of slop. The one known as Biter grimaces as he tries to swallow the stuff. "Could they have made this any more disgusting?" he asks. He's new, and the other inmates sitting at his table advise him to keep his voice down.
But everyone else silently nods in agreement anyway. It really is disgusting. What did they do to deserve this? Try to blow up the entire state of New York? Oh, please, they could've blown up the world if they wanted to. Try to steal the most secret of secrets it can't be put into words? Man, even if he did do that, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone. Plot to destroy the sun? It's been scientifically proven his theory didn't work, so it's not even a crime, technically.
Everyone grumbled, wishing they could get the heck out of there so they could continue with their plans to take over the world. Wouldn't it be amazing if something miraculously happened to break them free? Yeah, like that would happen. They talk about this every night, just wishes waiting to come true. But of course, wishes don't come true unless you make them. Or do they?
A slight rumble rolls through the cafeteria, barely a vibration, hardly even noticeable in the loud room filled with conversation. The only one who really notices is one called simply The Villain. This guy comes from another dimension, the exact opposite of the famous hero known as The Super. He's bred for evil, and the only reason he ever ended up here is that mix-up with the dimensions. He shouldn't even be here, he should be in his own world, living on a throne crafted of pure evil and nightmares. He messed up, and he knows he has to serve his time, but that doesn't make it any easier to sit here and take imprisonment.
Anyway, The Villain feels the vibration. He stops mid-sentence, and focuses only on the slight shaking in his water glass. He waits, patiently. The vibration goes by again, this time slightly stronger, and he smiles, ever so slightly, an evil grin as he realizes what's about to unfold.
Suddenly there's a muffled boom, an explosion going off in another room, and the sound of plates, glasses, and silverware jostling on the tables. The room immediately goes silent as the inmates listen to the sound of guards running through the corridors, calling for backup, giving orders and taking them. And then the sounds of battle, still muffled, far off. The inmates stand up, still for a moment as they look around at the now unguarded exits. The Villain stifles an evil laugh.
Then they make a run for it.
They run through the hallways, looking for the cause of the confusion and for a way out. And then there it is: a gaping hole where the main entrance doors used to be, the ragged edges burning. The inmates stomp out some of the fires, and climb out of the front of the building. A loud, grumbling roar tears through the air above the escapees, and none of them can believe their eyes. Except for The Villain. He saw it coming the whole time. But then again, he always does.
It's a dragon. Soaring majestically across the sky, silhouetted by the orange sky, it breathes fire at oncoming guards and police officers. Soon all opponents to the flying beast are either burning to a crisp or running for their lives. Satisfied with its work, the dragon touches down, and a figure slides off its back. As the group of escaped convicts comes nearer, they can see this figure is a teenage boy, maybe seventeen. His blond hair is blown into a crazy frenzy and he's covered in scorch marks, but he's grinning madly.
"Here's the plan," says the boy. "We are going to take out The Super."
The Villain smiles again at this. He's going to like this plan.
Just a sneak peak at the comic I'm writing for you guys! Stuff like this takes time, and that is something that is hardly ever on my side. I can feel you guys getting antsy, so I wrote this teaser to keep you occupied. Maybe it was just me getting antsy. Well, either way, here it is. Hope you think it's interesting, and feel free to give feedback! I've changed some settings so there should be less issues with commenting on my posts. Send me an email if it's still not working! My address is polarfarina@gmail.com, if you're too lazy to look at my profile to figure it out. I'm that kind of person, so I don't take it personally at all.
Love getting feedback, good or bad,
PolarFarina
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