"Cross your Heart and Hope to Die
Swear that you won't tell no lie"
-You Can Run (Adam Jones)
Suicide is a strange sensation.
You can never really tell what goes on your mind as the final gasps for air escapes your lung. Of course, this is strictly speaking for Hanging or Drowning. It may apply to Jumping or pills if you live long enough to feel the effects. Guns are a little more immediate for any thoughts during the process though.
But I digress.
When a person begins to die, the thoughts that lead up to a premature death can differ for everyone.
But there's always two things that will enter your mind. And two outcomes.
"I'm dying. This is it. It'll all be over soon."
Or
"Oh God, no. I can't do this."
And what follows is either you die and it does all end. Or that you live, and the attempt fails.
What comes after is entirely up to the results. A chain reaction of bewilderment, confusion, and chaos follows after. Like a storm beginning to ravage a small, peaceful town.
I'm sorry, that's a gross miscalculation.
It was never a peaceful town, nor did the storm just begin.
It was always there.
A storm of dire, empty, angry, and sad thoughts.
The town of Quartz was a depressing rural town where people kept to themselves and didn't trust the majority of everyone.
That was the most ironic thing, considering small towns produces strong, united communities.
No, the only thing that goes around here is gossip and meaningless relationships.
In this town, there are only 4 people that I trusted.
But my older brother was long gone from a car accident.
And my mom is away at least half of the year. I never knew my Dad. He died before I could care about him.
So that leaves my older sister, Hannah, and my friend Nicholas.
I'm almost sad to leave them to be honest.
In the past few years, I've watched people leave and never come back from this place.
Everyone in Quartz wants to leave this place as soon as possible because behind the quiet and peaceful vibe this town has, it wasn't a secret that this place was a valley death.
High accident rates, Suicide Capital of the East Coast, and the most miserable atmosphere ever known to man.
I've watched this town break men into tears and make smiling children cry.
But the worst of it all was Quartz High.
A teenage wasteland for the faint of heart.
The students here keep to themselves unless you were born with the magic ticket called talent or had the guts to speak out.
The only person that can actually stand this place was Nicholas.
"You're food's getting cold, Mark." He'd tell me as I stare blankly at the food our school gives out.
Over the years I've lost any desire to live or leave.
Shackled into this weary life after you spent your ticket.
Yes, I had a ticket once.
Me and my brother.
We were both gonna get out of this town and start actually living.
He had the art. I had the vision.
But there wasn't a point anymore. He wasn't here anymore. No one else can make my visions come to life. My mother wasn't here. My father was never here. And eventually, my sister will one day leave me. And Nicholas will.
I'm alone in this empty world where no one is really here.
Sometimes I envied Nicholas and his optimistic point of view.
"Do you think my hair looks nice? The summer weather really is setting in." he would say to me, showing of his short, spiky hair. Though it is a summer weather, him wearing a jacket is a glaring contradiction.
"I really want to get out of here." He pauses. "Go somewhere cold."
I may not have any desire to leave this place, but I do want to leave. This world.
But for some reason, he thinks I want to leave Quartz and start something.
"You understand, don't you?"
I just nodded to satisfy him.
The only thing that really stops me right now is how my actions would affect the few people I do trust. And that it would be too painful.
If there's one thing Quartz was good at, it was keeping guns away from peoples hands. So a swift death wasn't going to be an option. As far as I know, only Nicholas' father owned a gun. And he was a cop.
"You ever wonder what it feels like to the people who get shot and die?" He'd ask me when I mention his dad. "Not that it matters. Barely any criminal here. Its pointless."
As he said this to me for the last time, he popped an aspirin for a headache he had. As he did, he looked so calm. Ever so calm..
It was in that day that I realized I could just down a couple of the pills my sister, who is also a nurse, keeps at the cabinet. I could just shovel them down my throat and sleep tonight. And hopefully my sister doesn't notice me.
That day I decided to leave, I had already lost any conscience of how this will affect people. Sometimes you really have to let things go if it meant getting things done.
Besides, I already made a bunch of letters before I go.
When I got home from school, I checked to see if my sister was around. She wasn't. An all nighter most likely.
So I went straight for the medicine cabinet.
But of course, someone had to knock on the door.
It was Nicholas.
"Hey." He still had that soothing look on his face. "I just wanted to drop by and see if you wanted to play some Diablo III with me and just hang out. Like old times."
I just had to entertain him, wait for him to go home.
As we spent hours mindlessly killing monsters, I began to feel some of the doubts come back to me. Nicholas, who spent the hours with me to play and chat about how things change so quickly and about life in general, made a lot of my anxieties about death resurface.
"There's so much out there. I wish I could reach them."
"You will." I say, to the only person I know capable of doing it.
He smiled. "Thanks. I know you will too." And that sort of hits me hard. Can I reach them?
He dropped the controller and began standing up. "I need to get home. Its getting late." It was 5 in the afternoon, but I suppose his dad would worry.
"Keep the game. People will come by here more if you had it." He says. "Bye."
I watched him get on his bike and pedal home.
So much out there huh?
I guess in a way, Quartz was just a starting place in a world of possibilities. But can someone so broken like me reach them?
This made me rethink of tonight. Hold it off perhaps for tomorrow.
That day, I was the one to find Nicholas at school. go on with our day and reach the cafeteria at lunch.
"I thought about what you said. And I don't know. Can I really reach out to the world?"
He smiles. "Of course you can. Even with the people you lost, what's in that great mind of yours can never be taken away. Even if your brother wasn't here, that shouldn't stop you from chasing what you wanted."
"But let's be honest Nick. If anyone's reaching anything out there, it's you."
He chuckles. "No I won't."
"You're being pessimistic. Why won't you reach anything?"
"Because I'm not even here in the first place."
That was true. He wasn't here. Never was. This conversation we had was nothing but my imagination trying to stop me from processing this day.
Today, Nicholas didn't come to school. He never will.
He was found in his room with a gunshot wound to his head.
Nicholas had been dead since that night. His father had been on the job and his mother had went to relatives for the week, and his sister was in college. Nicholas had no neighbors since they lived at the edge of the residential district where no one lived.
He had only been found when his father went into his room to wake him up for school.
So you ask what really is happening today as I attempted to fabricate this little scene with me and my dead friend?
I'm at the hospital, outside the morgue with my sister. Nicholas' father slumped down to his sides, crying for his baby boy to come back to him.
"There were letters on his person when he died." The mortician handed me a letter. "This is for you."
With it my name was written in his familiar cursive penmanship and his favorite blue pen.
In every Darkness, there's always a chance that a light will come out to guide you.
Mark Gibson, there is still light in your darkness.
While mine has faded, yours is far from it.
Reach out and escape from here.
Its too late for me, but don't let this chance slip you away.
-Nicholas Hayes
This was incredibly hypocritical and unfair.
Darkness and Light? Escape?
Why couldn't he see for himself these words he had written?
It was only later, when I visited him, that I found out.
Nicholas had been cutting himself for the past few months. It explained the jackets.
His mother didn't leave for their relatives like Nicholas had previously told me. She had been on the run after his father had found her threatening him if he told anyone about the physical and sexual abuse she had been inflicting upon him.
Regardless to say, he had been on a manhunt for his wife, that's why he had been out for a while.
Nicholas had also started to fail his classes, which I never noticed because I had been too busy trying to think of a way to die.
And he had dropped photography club for unknown reasons, despite loving photography.
This also traced back to his mother, who had kept taking pictures of a feeble Nicholas, weakened from her assaults.
I was excused from school that day. I spent the entire afternoon lying down on the couch, playing Diablo III.
I never noticed any of my tears streaking down my cheek today. I was dead silent.
As I brushed my teeth after eating my microwaved dinner, I thought to myself.
Did Nicholas get out of here like he wanted?
Did he get what he wanted?
Was it better for him to end his pain?
Was there really light in the darkness? The happiest person I know couldn't live with the darkness, no matter how much light he seemed to radiate.
Why did he leave me? Why do people keep leaving me?
Maybe that means I should just leave too.
But how should I even leave? Where would I go? Do I try to find this light or wallow in darkness?
And at that moment, in the sink, I saw the bottles of pills I prepared.
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
Wednesday, April 26, 2017
Mirrors
In front of me I faced myself
A parallel fashion but definitely me
Mimicry is its talents
Yet does it yield the same heart I do?
Arms up, twitch of a nose, frown
A smile, A blink, hey even a bow
Down to every mole in my body
And still I wonder if its still me
The mirror holds nothing but truth
It wont lie, and it'll know if you lie
So none of the pretentious clothes
Or honeyed words will sway it
Truth be told, its a pain
Seeing the mimic be there
And I want to pull him out
Because in the end, I know he is me
Take my hand
Along with this emptiness and darkness
Break this glass divider
Crossover into this falsehood
Be with me, my other self
For I wallow in this self centered disgust
And the only one who can help is this parallel
But you're not here
And so, I scatter in the emptiness of me
A parallel fashion but definitely me
Mimicry is its talents
Yet does it yield the same heart I do?
Arms up, twitch of a nose, frown
A smile, A blink, hey even a bow
Down to every mole in my body
And still I wonder if its still me
The mirror holds nothing but truth
It wont lie, and it'll know if you lie
So none of the pretentious clothes
Or honeyed words will sway it
Truth be told, its a pain
Seeing the mimic be there
And I want to pull him out
Because in the end, I know he is me
Take my hand
Along with this emptiness and darkness
Break this glass divider
Crossover into this falsehood
Be with me, my other self
For I wallow in this self centered disgust
And the only one who can help is this parallel
But you're not here
And so, I scatter in the emptiness of me
Sunday, February 19, 2017
The Theory of Fading
"See me as I really am
I have flaws and sometimes I even sin
So pull me from that pedestal
I don't belong here"
-Halo (Bethany Joy Lenz)
People like it when light is shined upon their faces.
Personally, I like to think I'm photosensitive to that kind of stuff.
I'm not one to enjoy any attention given to me. The world of the faceless crowds is so much more peaceful in a world where attention elicits a mass of speculation and countless opinions that makes you insecure every time you hear 4 or 5.
Trust me. I'm surrounded by people who are so much more than another piece of the peanut gallery.
When people ask about the students of Blaze high, they talk about Honor Student Michelle Grey or athlete Freddie Tran or talented actor Vin Sage and his equally talented singer sister Ginny Sage. Basically the Trailblazer circle.
But when you hear the name Mike Hart, you think "Hmm... Wasn't he that nobody who hung around the trailblazer kids. Or that generic white teenager that walks around the school with a bunch of cool friends.
But no one really knows me. Not even when Michelle gave a passing mention of my name during her valedictorian speech or when Vin thanked me for his Oscar in the years after.
Unlike my very fortunate friends, I've done nothing but work in the shadows. It doesn't bode well for me when I draw any sense of attention towards me.
After all...
The attention that my friends got was what ultimately drew them apart. In the end, in these past years as a young adult, the trailblazer circle had successfully created inspiration with their success. However, this was at the cost of what drew us all together.
And in the end, from the shadows, I'm the only link left in this circle falling apart.
I remain the single thread that these people of power have left to bind them. Because behind the authority and strength they express to the public eye, they have been broken down by the standards and expectations it has brought down unto them.
Michelle may have been an honor student, but behind the closed doors of her room when I visit her to help her study, she cries and no no one ever knows. The slits on her wrists show a struggle to keep herself in control. In this day, as a senator, Michelle has been stricken with nothing but grief and constant worry over politics. No longer did she just talk about it in a spew of annoyance, she had to be careful what she says lest she be overrun by the public just waiting for her to slip up.
Ginny is a touring musician surrounded by adoring fans, but from when she was building her career up until now, all she ever knew was a life on the road and a crowd of people that want to use her or spite her. And behind every curtain, she wraps her hands around her head and sits in a corner until she can shut the voices in her head telling her she's no good.
Poor Freddie, an overworked basketball player pulling a team of overconfident jocks and practically running himself ragged trying to keep himself stable. But its hard when everyone is trailing you with the intent of exploiting what is apparently his true self. What a bunch of shit, these tabloids say really.
Of course, he never has it as hard as Vin Sage, who has to hire a body guard to keep people who see him from lunging at him. Crazy paparazzis stalking him everywhere he goes. Crazy fans picking up anything with his DNA on it.
And where am I in all this?
I'm the nobody who they dump their problems on.
I'm just a guy who works in front of a computer everyday for a small scale video game company and the few friends who do know about my high end friends are so surprised about my connection with them.
And yet, every time a political upheaval arises, I'm the first person Senator Grey calls. Whenever Great Vin Sage's movie needs an extra to fill the background, I'm on a set mumbling a bunch of random words or pretending to be dead. When Number 14 Tran needs a drink from a heavy day. I'm already in the bar with him. Swatting away incoming fans. When Ginny is in a slump, I'm the first person she wants to share what she's made.
And when I'm done, they go on with their lives.
Why don't they call each other anymore instead you ask? Well when they've been in the same big spotlight, they tend to be put in conflict and they just don't talk anymore.
And I end up as the councilor.
It's a shame really.
As a person who has been burned by the light before I moved to Blaze High, this was exactly what I was avoiding when I made friends. All I wanted was to support them and it's brought about nothing but success to their lives. Every little favor that I did for them but kept my name out of to avoid my previous pain has instead brought them to the same position I was in when I was in middle school.
I so miss the days when we were all just faceless people going on with their lives.
Instead, they drift apart and refuse to make up, they deal with their S level troubles and I'm expected to save them now as if it was high school.
So in the end, after I finished working on the very first game our company has made, I finish a graphic novel I made on the side and I intend to cash in a bunch of favors.
But its not about the money or about the fun stuff.
Suffice to say, when all my friends arrived at the cake place we used to go to when we were all still just friends, they sat awkwardly in a circle, trying to avoiding eye contact.
And soon I arrive as well.
"This is goodbye." I say.
My friends looked up in startled panic.
"What do you mean?" Freddie says.
I chuckled. "Well. I mean it's optional."
The group stared at one another before returning their gaze to me.
"Where are you going?" Michelle asks.
"To melt into the crowd and fade away."
I spot Vin lean toward his body guard in a nearby booth, trying to say to watch over me in his worried panic.
"I'm not going to kill myself you idiot."
He clears his throat and sits still. "Then what do you want?"
I placed the graphic novel on the table. "If you don't get what this is, then you haven't been paying attention. I will fade away and in theory, you may never find me again. But I'm giving you all the one chance to keep me around. But what does a Senator, Actor, Singer, and Basketball Player need me for. This circle we had was never tense the first time we met. But now it's frigid. In recent days, I've been turned from a friend into a personal rant hotline. I've never asked you all for anything and it was enough for me that you're happy. But you're not. And this is may be the last attempt I'll have to fix what you all broke with your time in the light."
"You're not making much sense." Ginny says, a frown planted on her face. "Just spit it out."
"So impatient." I stand, pausing for a wistful second. "I want you all to read this graphic novel and see if you value this nobody enough to make up. All you know is the tale of your lives. But how about from my eyes? I will leave this shop and disappear into the night. I will change my number by the end of the day. If you truly value what well had, then I will hear a genuine call from all of you before this day ends. And I will see if anything was repaired. Otherwise... It's goodbye."
I walk away from the stunned group, walking toward the exit and ignoring any call to return. They must be dumbfounded to read The Eyes of Hart by Blaze Mann.
But there's a sliver of hope they understand as I melt into the crowd of the town.
Will they make amends and call? Or will they go on with their lives.
Who knows?
I can tell you how this story ends. But it's up to you how you think this will all end.
I have flaws and sometimes I even sin
So pull me from that pedestal
I don't belong here"
-Halo (Bethany Joy Lenz)
People like it when light is shined upon their faces.
Personally, I like to think I'm photosensitive to that kind of stuff.
I'm not one to enjoy any attention given to me. The world of the faceless crowds is so much more peaceful in a world where attention elicits a mass of speculation and countless opinions that makes you insecure every time you hear 4 or 5.
Trust me. I'm surrounded by people who are so much more than another piece of the peanut gallery.
When people ask about the students of Blaze high, they talk about Honor Student Michelle Grey or athlete Freddie Tran or talented actor Vin Sage and his equally talented singer sister Ginny Sage. Basically the Trailblazer circle.
But when you hear the name Mike Hart, you think "Hmm... Wasn't he that nobody who hung around the trailblazer kids. Or that generic white teenager that walks around the school with a bunch of cool friends.
But no one really knows me. Not even when Michelle gave a passing mention of my name during her valedictorian speech or when Vin thanked me for his Oscar in the years after.
Unlike my very fortunate friends, I've done nothing but work in the shadows. It doesn't bode well for me when I draw any sense of attention towards me.
After all...
The attention that my friends got was what ultimately drew them apart. In the end, in these past years as a young adult, the trailblazer circle had successfully created inspiration with their success. However, this was at the cost of what drew us all together.
And in the end, from the shadows, I'm the only link left in this circle falling apart.
I remain the single thread that these people of power have left to bind them. Because behind the authority and strength they express to the public eye, they have been broken down by the standards and expectations it has brought down unto them.
Michelle may have been an honor student, but behind the closed doors of her room when I visit her to help her study, she cries and no no one ever knows. The slits on her wrists show a struggle to keep herself in control. In this day, as a senator, Michelle has been stricken with nothing but grief and constant worry over politics. No longer did she just talk about it in a spew of annoyance, she had to be careful what she says lest she be overrun by the public just waiting for her to slip up.
Ginny is a touring musician surrounded by adoring fans, but from when she was building her career up until now, all she ever knew was a life on the road and a crowd of people that want to use her or spite her. And behind every curtain, she wraps her hands around her head and sits in a corner until she can shut the voices in her head telling her she's no good.
Poor Freddie, an overworked basketball player pulling a team of overconfident jocks and practically running himself ragged trying to keep himself stable. But its hard when everyone is trailing you with the intent of exploiting what is apparently his true self. What a bunch of shit, these tabloids say really.
Of course, he never has it as hard as Vin Sage, who has to hire a body guard to keep people who see him from lunging at him. Crazy paparazzis stalking him everywhere he goes. Crazy fans picking up anything with his DNA on it.
And where am I in all this?
I'm the nobody who they dump their problems on.
I'm just a guy who works in front of a computer everyday for a small scale video game company and the few friends who do know about my high end friends are so surprised about my connection with them.
And yet, every time a political upheaval arises, I'm the first person Senator Grey calls. Whenever Great Vin Sage's movie needs an extra to fill the background, I'm on a set mumbling a bunch of random words or pretending to be dead. When Number 14 Tran needs a drink from a heavy day. I'm already in the bar with him. Swatting away incoming fans. When Ginny is in a slump, I'm the first person she wants to share what she's made.
And when I'm done, they go on with their lives.
Why don't they call each other anymore instead you ask? Well when they've been in the same big spotlight, they tend to be put in conflict and they just don't talk anymore.
And I end up as the councilor.
It's a shame really.
As a person who has been burned by the light before I moved to Blaze High, this was exactly what I was avoiding when I made friends. All I wanted was to support them and it's brought about nothing but success to their lives. Every little favor that I did for them but kept my name out of to avoid my previous pain has instead brought them to the same position I was in when I was in middle school.
I so miss the days when we were all just faceless people going on with their lives.
Instead, they drift apart and refuse to make up, they deal with their S level troubles and I'm expected to save them now as if it was high school.
So in the end, after I finished working on the very first game our company has made, I finish a graphic novel I made on the side and I intend to cash in a bunch of favors.
But its not about the money or about the fun stuff.
Suffice to say, when all my friends arrived at the cake place we used to go to when we were all still just friends, they sat awkwardly in a circle, trying to avoiding eye contact.
And soon I arrive as well.
"This is goodbye." I say.
My friends looked up in startled panic.
"What do you mean?" Freddie says.
I chuckled. "Well. I mean it's optional."
The group stared at one another before returning their gaze to me.
"Where are you going?" Michelle asks.
"To melt into the crowd and fade away."
I spot Vin lean toward his body guard in a nearby booth, trying to say to watch over me in his worried panic.
"I'm not going to kill myself you idiot."
He clears his throat and sits still. "Then what do you want?"
I placed the graphic novel on the table. "If you don't get what this is, then you haven't been paying attention. I will fade away and in theory, you may never find me again. But I'm giving you all the one chance to keep me around. But what does a Senator, Actor, Singer, and Basketball Player need me for. This circle we had was never tense the first time we met. But now it's frigid. In recent days, I've been turned from a friend into a personal rant hotline. I've never asked you all for anything and it was enough for me that you're happy. But you're not. And this is may be the last attempt I'll have to fix what you all broke with your time in the light."
"You're not making much sense." Ginny says, a frown planted on her face. "Just spit it out."
"So impatient." I stand, pausing for a wistful second. "I want you all to read this graphic novel and see if you value this nobody enough to make up. All you know is the tale of your lives. But how about from my eyes? I will leave this shop and disappear into the night. I will change my number by the end of the day. If you truly value what well had, then I will hear a genuine call from all of you before this day ends. And I will see if anything was repaired. Otherwise... It's goodbye."
I walk away from the stunned group, walking toward the exit and ignoring any call to return. They must be dumbfounded to read The Eyes of Hart by Blaze Mann.
But there's a sliver of hope they understand as I melt into the crowd of the town.
Will they make amends and call? Or will they go on with their lives.
Who knows?
I can tell you how this story ends. But it's up to you how you think this will all end.
Saturday, November 26, 2016
XV
In 2 more days, Final Fantasy XV will finally be released into the public
(Though some people HAVE managed to attain early copies. *mumble*...Lucky bastards...*mumble*)
And in light of the upcoming game, I'd like to talk about it.
If you don't know what Final Fantasy is, you're either a normie who have never ever in your life have ever touched a video game and avoided them like the plague or someone who lives in a cave. Final Fantasy is extremely hard to miss since its a game that's spawned 15 mainline games, and various many spin offs (I especially love the tactics series and Dissidia. Tactics Advance and 1 having a special place in my heart because it is the first FFs I officially played through. X first mainline.)
Final Fantasy XV, Then called Final Fantasy Versus XIII was part of the Fabula Nova Crystallis series of the Final Fantasy Games, meaning they fell under the same universe and rules that fell under Final Fantasy XIII (You know, Lightning, hallway maps, L'Cie, and the such). Such games included were sequels such as XIII-2 and associated games like Type-0.
Final Fantasy Versus XIII's first trailer was released around 10 years ago along with Final Fantasy XIII. I remember this specifically after seeing it in youtube about a year later when I discovered it from a friend. How could I have missed it when Noctis practically slaughtered that army in a bloody warp frenzy?
So in my giddy Final Fantasy love, I waited for news to come out for it even though the chances I had at the time to get such a game was low since I didn't have a Ps3 at the time cause my parents wouldn't buy me one. But that doesn't mean I couldn't just force one of my friends with a Ps3 to buy it right? Uh...hehehe...
I mean, I could just watch it on youtube until I have the chance to buy my own copy and console.
Of course, unlike most of the games I played in the spanning years of its development, I heard nothing more about Versus XIII (Which I promptly forgot about for a while) until they released the trailer with Stella.
It seemed typical at first so I didn't really pay mind (Especially since no one had made a video of the one with subs on it)
Then they released the one with the Stella vs Noctis part.
Do you have any idea how much my eyes widened when I saw something as unorthodox such as this in a Final Fantasy game. The hero and the established heroine locked in combat.
It was just a few seconds, but I was one of the people who fell totally in love with Stella and wished to see this come to fruition.
Then more radio silence until come 2013.
I was going through youtube, minding my own biz until there. I saw it. The sudden spawning of the trailer vids for Versus XIII (Now branded as XV) and Kingdom Hearts 3.
My heart leapt, and was practically stomped on, when I saw it.
I loved, loved, LOVED the trailers, but felt myself even more depressed knowing I wouldn't be able to play them yet, especially now that they moved it to Ps4.
And you know what? I decided that I was going to play this game. No matter what.
No matter the cost.
Every week, my parents supply me with a good amount of money for my allowance and instead of splurging them all like a normal college student for food or novels, I saved my money.
I watched my money as carefully as possible every week while watching for any new Final Fantasy updates.
You wouldn't believe how okay I was with eating cheap and even just going home to save some lunch money.
In a year in a half, right before december, I have saved at least half of the amount needed to purchase a Playstation 4. I was extremely proud of myself and counted down the months I needed until I saved enough to buy one.
Then one day in that december of 2014, my mother asked me what I wanted for Christmas.
I was a little disoriented cause I had just woken up.
"I don't know." I said. "You know what I really want so I don't really know what else I want. But a Playstation 3 would be nice." My parents had mentioned that they were willing to buy me a Ps3 now, though there were few games I had in mind that I wanted to play in the Ps3 era at the time. Mostly Persona 4 Arena and Persona 5 when it comes out. I figured since they're offering a free console, why not just take it. I could still save for the ps4.
Then... Out of the blue, my father said "What about a Ps4?"
I was fully awake at this time.
"But." He said. "You're going to pay for half of it."
I jumped the gun immediately and paid for half when the day we went to purchase a Ps4 came. That was the happiest moment in my life cause I knew that I was now in the current generation of consoles and that I had the chance to play 3 of the games I've waited forever to play when they come out.
Final Fantasy XV. Persona 5. And Kingdom Hearts 3.
Final Fantasy XV being the first priority.
The extent of my love for Final Fantasy and Square Enix was powerful enough to drive me to become so frugal with my money that I've become a thrifty person in general and it's helped me when I plan on getting something and always be stable when it comes to money.
Back to final fantasy, I've monitored the activity Square Enix makes every day for the past 2 years. I'm not joking.
Every day, I open google news and the first thing I type in is Final Fantasy. (Followed by KH, Persona 5, Silent Hill, Paramore, Veronica mars, and stuff I don't want to tell you I look up)
That happens like 2 or three times a day to this very day.
And if that's not enough, I watch around the twitter and facebooks of Square Enix and Final Fantasy, and have tried to watch the live streams of the ATRs. (Though I only ever caught up to like 3 because of time differences.)
My journey along with the other FF fans with this game has been a long one filled with joy and sadness (RIP Stella, you will forever be engraved in my heart. I just hope Luna does you the justice you deserve. But that worries me.)
And now that 2 days approach, I await. Pre-order receipt and presaved money for the game and season pass in hand.
It's been a long time coming.
-ThanosVenge
(Though some people HAVE managed to attain early copies. *mumble*...Lucky bastards...*mumble*)
And in light of the upcoming game, I'd like to talk about it.
If you don't know what Final Fantasy is, you're either a normie who have never ever in your life have ever touched a video game and avoided them like the plague or someone who lives in a cave. Final Fantasy is extremely hard to miss since its a game that's spawned 15 mainline games, and various many spin offs (I especially love the tactics series and Dissidia. Tactics Advance and 1 having a special place in my heart because it is the first FFs I officially played through. X first mainline.)
Final Fantasy XV, Then called Final Fantasy Versus XIII was part of the Fabula Nova Crystallis series of the Final Fantasy Games, meaning they fell under the same universe and rules that fell under Final Fantasy XIII (You know, Lightning, hallway maps, L'Cie, and the such). Such games included were sequels such as XIII-2 and associated games like Type-0.
Final Fantasy Versus XIII's first trailer was released around 10 years ago along with Final Fantasy XIII. I remember this specifically after seeing it in youtube about a year later when I discovered it from a friend. How could I have missed it when Noctis practically slaughtered that army in a bloody warp frenzy?
So in my giddy Final Fantasy love, I waited for news to come out for it even though the chances I had at the time to get such a game was low since I didn't have a Ps3 at the time cause my parents wouldn't buy me one. But that doesn't mean I couldn't just force one of my friends with a Ps3 to buy it right? Uh...hehehe...
I mean, I could just watch it on youtube until I have the chance to buy my own copy and console.
Of course, unlike most of the games I played in the spanning years of its development, I heard nothing more about Versus XIII (Which I promptly forgot about for a while) until they released the trailer with Stella.
It seemed typical at first so I didn't really pay mind (Especially since no one had made a video of the one with subs on it)
Then they released the one with the Stella vs Noctis part.
Do you have any idea how much my eyes widened when I saw something as unorthodox such as this in a Final Fantasy game. The hero and the established heroine locked in combat.
It was just a few seconds, but I was one of the people who fell totally in love with Stella and wished to see this come to fruition.
Then more radio silence until come 2013.
I was going through youtube, minding my own biz until there. I saw it. The sudden spawning of the trailer vids for Versus XIII (Now branded as XV) and Kingdom Hearts 3.
My heart leapt, and was practically stomped on, when I saw it.
I loved, loved, LOVED the trailers, but felt myself even more depressed knowing I wouldn't be able to play them yet, especially now that they moved it to Ps4.
And you know what? I decided that I was going to play this game. No matter what.
No matter the cost.
Every week, my parents supply me with a good amount of money for my allowance and instead of splurging them all like a normal college student for food or novels, I saved my money.
I watched my money as carefully as possible every week while watching for any new Final Fantasy updates.
You wouldn't believe how okay I was with eating cheap and even just going home to save some lunch money.
In a year in a half, right before december, I have saved at least half of the amount needed to purchase a Playstation 4. I was extremely proud of myself and counted down the months I needed until I saved enough to buy one.
Then one day in that december of 2014, my mother asked me what I wanted for Christmas.
I was a little disoriented cause I had just woken up.
"I don't know." I said. "You know what I really want so I don't really know what else I want. But a Playstation 3 would be nice." My parents had mentioned that they were willing to buy me a Ps3 now, though there were few games I had in mind that I wanted to play in the Ps3 era at the time. Mostly Persona 4 Arena and Persona 5 when it comes out. I figured since they're offering a free console, why not just take it. I could still save for the ps4.
Then... Out of the blue, my father said "What about a Ps4?"
I was fully awake at this time.
"But." He said. "You're going to pay for half of it."
I jumped the gun immediately and paid for half when the day we went to purchase a Ps4 came. That was the happiest moment in my life cause I knew that I was now in the current generation of consoles and that I had the chance to play 3 of the games I've waited forever to play when they come out.
Final Fantasy XV. Persona 5. And Kingdom Hearts 3.
Final Fantasy XV being the first priority.
The extent of my love for Final Fantasy and Square Enix was powerful enough to drive me to become so frugal with my money that I've become a thrifty person in general and it's helped me when I plan on getting something and always be stable when it comes to money.
Back to final fantasy, I've monitored the activity Square Enix makes every day for the past 2 years. I'm not joking.
Every day, I open google news and the first thing I type in is Final Fantasy. (Followed by KH, Persona 5, Silent Hill, Paramore, Veronica mars, and stuff I don't want to tell you I look up)
That happens like 2 or three times a day to this very day.
And if that's not enough, I watch around the twitter and facebooks of Square Enix and Final Fantasy, and have tried to watch the live streams of the ATRs. (Though I only ever caught up to like 3 because of time differences.)
My journey along with the other FF fans with this game has been a long one filled with joy and sadness (RIP Stella, you will forever be engraved in my heart. I just hope Luna does you the justice you deserve. But that worries me.)
And now that 2 days approach, I await. Pre-order receipt and presaved money for the game and season pass in hand.
It's been a long time coming.
-ThanosVenge
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Paradoxia - First Edition
"Now that I'm Coming Down
Won't you be my solid ground?"
-Sway (The Perishers)
Strange and Unusual things happen in the quiet town of Westbrick, Colorado on a weekly basis. Nobody knows why it happens. And no one knows when it'll happen.
Think of it as Colorado's own Hellmouth.
The strangest of it is that while everyone would usually be affected by whatever weird apocalypse had hit the town, most wouldn't recall it happening aside from a faint feeling about it.
But that's where people like me come in.
My name is Lyle Ross. I'm a journalist for Paradoxia, a magazine for those like me who retains their experience and memories of what happens within this town. Gammas.
Every week, I partner up with one of the town's other unique brand of people. One of the town's secret Supernatural Countermeasures Team agent, Detective Zan Taylor.
Now unlike me, he has powers far beyond memory locking what happens around Westbrick. Zan has the ability to harness the power of Ice and manipulate it to his every whim. People like him and those in the SCT are what we call Zetas.
Together, we try and resolve whatever happens in Westbrick and make sure those like us remember.
~ Issue #1 - Halloween Headlights ~
Ah Halloween. That time of the month little kids get to dress up like monsters or witches or whatever. And what is Halloween without candy. Yum.
Of course, Halloween meant us adults have to buy candy for the door to door kids...
Or in Westbrick's case, prepare for anything.
With our strange streak, anything could happen. Last year's Halloween alone had turned that creepy house in Formor Street into a Ginger Bread house with a witch that attempted to fatten and eat kids ala Hansel and Gretel.
But this is the 21st century. Kids have smartphones and you have no idea how fast the SCT reacted to one phone call from a parent who couldn't get into the witch's house after the witch took his kid in.
The funny part was that the first reaction the SCT had was to send their Pyrokinetic agent to "Burn the Witch"
I got it all on the papers.
With hours to go before Halloween officially begins, Zan and I decided to drive around the town, see if anything strange had begun to happen.
Speaking of, the man of the hour arrives.
"Here you go." I hand Zan a cup of coffee. He takes it and takes the lid off. He casually waves his finger around it, causing some shaved ice to appear on top of it. "Thanks."
"I'm a man of generosity." I say,
He chuckled. "Wouldn't have thought that after you so generously taken my Garlic Bread two days ago."
"Oh let that go will you?" I say. "So what's this week's MO?"
"We drive around town. No supernatural phenomena has surfaced yet."
We got into his car, driving at least 3 times in circles. No mysterious activity yet.
"This town isn't seriously waiting for it to be night before unleashing its voodoo is it?" I ask.
"Lyle, we don't control what happens. We're going to have to be patient if we want what happens to be stopped."
"Or, you know, Westbrick decides to take a break this year?"
Zan turns to me with a look of skepticism.
"Nah, you're right. Halloween never gets a break." I sipped my coffee, watching around the streets to see if anything odd was going on.
I get paid for telling people what happens around this town, but it's not like I enjoy whatever goes on around here. There has at least been 4 zombie apocalypse around town that ended with me and Zan locking ourselves at either my apartment or his house and playing Uno or Poker just to wait it out.
The first Zombie apocalypse is what taught me to keep at least 3 times the amount of food than normal.
Trust me, Zombies are not fun things to experience or to talk about.
Thankfully, the Zetas and Gammas had a handle on things whenever this happened.
After hours of being in the car, Night had eventually befallen the town. Before we could park in front of an In-N-Out, Zan stopped.
"Wait... do you hear that?" Zan parked the car along the curb to a party going on in one of the houses. This was owned by the Prescotts.
"It's just a party Zan." Zan's eyes turned cold and serious. The first sign of his astute senses.
But then I heard it too. A scream just beyond the music.
"Please don't tell me..."
Zan sighs. "Yep... This year's Halloween is based on Scream."
"But isn't it easier to believe one of the kids around here just went crazy? It's happened before."
"We can talk about this later, we have to stop what's happening."
Zan exited the car, running for the garage.
I grabbed my camera, strapping it around my neck.
Unlike Zan, I have a more human approach to protecting myself.
I'm a licensed Gun owner.
Exiting the car, I follow Zan to garage to find one of the party goers on the verge of being crushed by the garage door ala Scream 1.
Zan was just fast enough to freeze the doors.
Sure enough, a masked fellow was inside the garage. He fled immediately before any of us can react.
"Thank you so much." The girl said. "This psycho has killed at least 3 of our friends.
"And you decide to throw a party after that?" I say. "Don't you think you're being a little stupid. Not to mention you shouldn't be by yourself when there's apparently a murderer on the loose."
"I'm sorry."
"Go home." Zan says. "And try not to make any stops. Lock the doors and don't open it for anyone."
She nods and scampers off.
"This is definitely Westbrick's work" Zan says.
"How so?" I ask.
"If this was a normal murder spree, the police would have been informed and had a handle on it. I've asked my friend in the station and he's heard nothing about this apparent murder case."
"They could be incompetent."
Zan looks at me with silence and sarcastic eyes. I shrug before we enter the house.
The party goers seem to have left faster than we got here. Zan stops me from going forward.
"The Final girl is about to hear the master scheme from the killers."
And just as Zan predicted, two men had cornered the Prescott girl, Vanessa Prescott, to a corner.
One of the boys I recognize as Bill Watts has a knife to her throat.
"And if your dad hadn't gone around sleeping with my mom, I wouldn't have killed him."
That's stupid, Vanessa's dad is overseas and is hardly a womanizer.
Zan was right, this was the work of Westbrick.
"And now, I'm going to kill you."
Of course, Bill was frozen into a popsicle before he had the chance. Vanessa had quickly run off behind us.The other guy tried running at us with a knife before I shot him the leg.
"Say Cheese." I say, taking a picture of the killers in play.
As it turns out, the string of murders they committed was done around the town since this morning. They were just too fast for the police to handle.
Vanessa's father wasn't killed and their lives returned to normal three days later.
Those who were apparently killed seemed to have never existed and are most probably alive. The killers were put in a psychiatric ward. The after effect of Westbrick's influence seems to have driven them insane. The poor kids.
Paradoxia's headlines for this week, Ghostface strikes Westbrick, was a little boring for my taste.
Despite being affected by Westbrick's influence, this week's mystery was more human than supernatural.
But I'm not complaining. If I had faced off against something like Jason, I don't think we'd live to tell the tale.
Zan and I spent the rest of the night giving out treats to kids.
He and his wife had bought way too many sweets.
I always enjoy being around him and his family, if only because it beats staying in at my apartment alone. Plus, his kids love me.
"Well, we stopped a murder spree." I say. "That's a win."
"I just wish every other case was this easy."
"This is Westbrick, Zan. We don't choose what happens. But whenever something does happen... We're there."
Won't you be my solid ground?"
-Sway (The Perishers)
Strange and Unusual things happen in the quiet town of Westbrick, Colorado on a weekly basis. Nobody knows why it happens. And no one knows when it'll happen.
Think of it as Colorado's own Hellmouth.
The strangest of it is that while everyone would usually be affected by whatever weird apocalypse had hit the town, most wouldn't recall it happening aside from a faint feeling about it.
But that's where people like me come in.
My name is Lyle Ross. I'm a journalist for Paradoxia, a magazine for those like me who retains their experience and memories of what happens within this town. Gammas.
Every week, I partner up with one of the town's other unique brand of people. One of the town's secret Supernatural Countermeasures Team agent, Detective Zan Taylor.
Now unlike me, he has powers far beyond memory locking what happens around Westbrick. Zan has the ability to harness the power of Ice and manipulate it to his every whim. People like him and those in the SCT are what we call Zetas.
Together, we try and resolve whatever happens in Westbrick and make sure those like us remember.
~ Issue #1 - Halloween Headlights ~
Ah Halloween. That time of the month little kids get to dress up like monsters or witches or whatever. And what is Halloween without candy. Yum.
Of course, Halloween meant us adults have to buy candy for the door to door kids...
Or in Westbrick's case, prepare for anything.
With our strange streak, anything could happen. Last year's Halloween alone had turned that creepy house in Formor Street into a Ginger Bread house with a witch that attempted to fatten and eat kids ala Hansel and Gretel.
But this is the 21st century. Kids have smartphones and you have no idea how fast the SCT reacted to one phone call from a parent who couldn't get into the witch's house after the witch took his kid in.
The funny part was that the first reaction the SCT had was to send their Pyrokinetic agent to "Burn the Witch"
I got it all on the papers.
With hours to go before Halloween officially begins, Zan and I decided to drive around the town, see if anything strange had begun to happen.
Speaking of, the man of the hour arrives.
"Here you go." I hand Zan a cup of coffee. He takes it and takes the lid off. He casually waves his finger around it, causing some shaved ice to appear on top of it. "Thanks."
"I'm a man of generosity." I say,
He chuckled. "Wouldn't have thought that after you so generously taken my Garlic Bread two days ago."
"Oh let that go will you?" I say. "So what's this week's MO?"
"We drive around town. No supernatural phenomena has surfaced yet."
We got into his car, driving at least 3 times in circles. No mysterious activity yet.
"This town isn't seriously waiting for it to be night before unleashing its voodoo is it?" I ask.
"Lyle, we don't control what happens. We're going to have to be patient if we want what happens to be stopped."
"Or, you know, Westbrick decides to take a break this year?"
Zan turns to me with a look of skepticism.
"Nah, you're right. Halloween never gets a break." I sipped my coffee, watching around the streets to see if anything odd was going on.
I get paid for telling people what happens around this town, but it's not like I enjoy whatever goes on around here. There has at least been 4 zombie apocalypse around town that ended with me and Zan locking ourselves at either my apartment or his house and playing Uno or Poker just to wait it out.
The first Zombie apocalypse is what taught me to keep at least 3 times the amount of food than normal.
Trust me, Zombies are not fun things to experience or to talk about.
Thankfully, the Zetas and Gammas had a handle on things whenever this happened.
After hours of being in the car, Night had eventually befallen the town. Before we could park in front of an In-N-Out, Zan stopped.
"Wait... do you hear that?" Zan parked the car along the curb to a party going on in one of the houses. This was owned by the Prescotts.
"It's just a party Zan." Zan's eyes turned cold and serious. The first sign of his astute senses.
But then I heard it too. A scream just beyond the music.
"Please don't tell me..."
Zan sighs. "Yep... This year's Halloween is based on Scream."
"But isn't it easier to believe one of the kids around here just went crazy? It's happened before."
"We can talk about this later, we have to stop what's happening."
Zan exited the car, running for the garage.
I grabbed my camera, strapping it around my neck.
Unlike Zan, I have a more human approach to protecting myself.
I'm a licensed Gun owner.
Exiting the car, I follow Zan to garage to find one of the party goers on the verge of being crushed by the garage door ala Scream 1.
Zan was just fast enough to freeze the doors.
Sure enough, a masked fellow was inside the garage. He fled immediately before any of us can react.
"Thank you so much." The girl said. "This psycho has killed at least 3 of our friends.
"And you decide to throw a party after that?" I say. "Don't you think you're being a little stupid. Not to mention you shouldn't be by yourself when there's apparently a murderer on the loose."
"I'm sorry."
"Go home." Zan says. "And try not to make any stops. Lock the doors and don't open it for anyone."
She nods and scampers off.
"This is definitely Westbrick's work" Zan says.
"How so?" I ask.
"If this was a normal murder spree, the police would have been informed and had a handle on it. I've asked my friend in the station and he's heard nothing about this apparent murder case."
"They could be incompetent."
Zan looks at me with silence and sarcastic eyes. I shrug before we enter the house.
The party goers seem to have left faster than we got here. Zan stops me from going forward.
"The Final girl is about to hear the master scheme from the killers."
And just as Zan predicted, two men had cornered the Prescott girl, Vanessa Prescott, to a corner.
One of the boys I recognize as Bill Watts has a knife to her throat.
"And if your dad hadn't gone around sleeping with my mom, I wouldn't have killed him."
That's stupid, Vanessa's dad is overseas and is hardly a womanizer.
Zan was right, this was the work of Westbrick.
"And now, I'm going to kill you."
Of course, Bill was frozen into a popsicle before he had the chance. Vanessa had quickly run off behind us.The other guy tried running at us with a knife before I shot him the leg.
"Say Cheese." I say, taking a picture of the killers in play.
As it turns out, the string of murders they committed was done around the town since this morning. They were just too fast for the police to handle.
Vanessa's father wasn't killed and their lives returned to normal three days later.
Those who were apparently killed seemed to have never existed and are most probably alive. The killers were put in a psychiatric ward. The after effect of Westbrick's influence seems to have driven them insane. The poor kids.
Paradoxia's headlines for this week, Ghostface strikes Westbrick, was a little boring for my taste.
Despite being affected by Westbrick's influence, this week's mystery was more human than supernatural.
But I'm not complaining. If I had faced off against something like Jason, I don't think we'd live to tell the tale.
Zan and I spent the rest of the night giving out treats to kids.
He and his wife had bought way too many sweets.
I always enjoy being around him and his family, if only because it beats staying in at my apartment alone. Plus, his kids love me.
"Well, we stopped a murder spree." I say. "That's a win."
"I just wish every other case was this easy."
"This is Westbrick, Zan. We don't choose what happens. But whenever something does happen... We're there."
Thursday, October 6, 2016
Friday, July 15, 2016
Fickle Bend: Numbing
"My body aches now that you're gone
My supply fell through."
-You're not here (Silent Hill)
Anne Nelson always loved her father's story of the 3 Portraits of Angelo Mortimer.
It was a strange fable to tell a 6 year old during bedtime.
The story goes as such:
The fires of creation bore three Portraits to rise from the ashes.
From these ashes, rose Angelo Mortimer.
These portraits circled Angelo for most of his life.
Why you ask?
Its Because the portraits held the windows to stories of life.
The first Portrait was named the Monster of The Lost.
This portrait painted an image of fog and flames with a sole figure covered by the fog.
It was said to protect Angelo and held his individuality and soul.
"Why Daddy?"
Because the portrait's monster was never a monster.
Beyond the picture, more people were believed to have crafted the term for him.
So in pressure of the evil townsfolk, he turned himself into the monster they branded him as
And destroyed the village.
All to protect himself. And in doing so, this image painted the same individuality he grants himself as well as the name he was given.
The Second Portrait painted an image of a hill. It was called Spades.
It didn't look like anything special, but its actually Angelo's sense of sanity and peace.
This portrait granted Angelo the power to avoid bad luck and create silence.
So its basically his lucky charm.
"Why did he need a lucky a charm?"
Because honey, life is consistently plagued by good and ill luck.
In this picture, the hill is simple because there are no outside factors to ruin this.
Its the neutrality that grants it its peace.
And in this peace he keeps his luck.
But there is always a price to avoiding certain luck.
The final portrait was named Unchained and to the Skies.
The portrait itself painted a picture of a dark sky with a single ray of hope and below it are chains unshackled.
This portrait was said to hold Angelo's Happiness and front.
"His front?"
The person he's become to the world. No longer a monster.
But a person that everyone knows.
No one knows why the portraits chose Angelo.
No one knows where they came from.
Just that, Angelo lived a quiet life. He passed his portraits on to his three children.
The Eldest had the first choice, and immediately chose his Happiness.
The Middle child, chose luck.
The youngest was granted the father's soul and protection.
The portraits have then been scattered far off. No one knows where they are anymore and so few know the fable of The Portraits of Angelo.
"Wow. I wanna find the portraits when I grow up."
Her father smiled.
"But be warned my daughter. Such portraits contain so much power. In the wrong hands, misfortune can only be found."
The first time her father told her this story, he gave her a picture similar to the the Monster of the Lost.
She kept that picture even into her adolescence.
It was one of the lasting memories of her father.
2 years before her graduation from high school, her mother told Anne and her brother, Harry, that her father contracted cancer. Anne's quiet life was rocked, but her father only continued to smile. He didn't seem in pain. She used a lot of her days visiting her father, doing part time jobs to earn some extra cash, and help her older brother find an apartment for when he goes to college.
A few days after she had graduated High School, her father had succumbed to his illness and died peacefully in the hospital.
But just a day before that, he told her daughter that story once again.
His last words to her were:
"In peace and happiness, even monsters deserve them. Even Monsters create such peace. Such happiness. Because only such desires for peace and happiness do people create monsters. And in this story, the monster is not a monster. Remember my child... Of the three, its better to be lost, than to be surrounded by false happiness or peace."
Anne didn't quite get her father's words. Were they a premonition? Or just a dying man's story coming to fruition?
"Of course dad." She said, with a confused, but believing voice. "I'll be back tomorrow to visit okay? I love you."
"And so the light will come. I love you too, Anne."
And he was gone. Just like that.
She told his story during his funeral and burial. She saw her Uncle Ned, her dad's older brother cry in recognition of the story.
Even though Uncle Ned was here, her Aunt Denise, her dad's older sister, came around. Her Uncle and Aunt have long since severed their ties because of a past fight, but they could never hate their youngest brother.
She was surprised these two even came. There were barely words exchanged between her and her uncle or aunt because they live relatively far and have seen grand successes. Denise was an A list actor and barely had time for her family. But Anne loved her, her also A list husband, and her cousin Ivan. Ned was a busy CEO of a video game company. He only has a daughter, her cousin Sam. He's long since separated from his wife.
Her dad was a quirky and known Comic Book Artist.
Though he wasn't as successful as his siblings, Anne could tell he was a lot happier than them.
"I can't believe Warren is dead." Her aunt said. "I only just spoke to him 2 weeks ago after getting cast in his comic's movie. And now he won't even see his work come to life."
"But you didn't visit him in the hospital." Ned said.
"Please." Anne's mother, Patrice, came between them. She knew that they could start a fight at any second.
"I'm sorry Pat." The two said and turned their attention to Anne.
"So you're going to college." Denise said.
Anne nodded. "I'm going to be an Art Major."
Ned placed a hand on her niece's shoulder. "Following in on Warren's footstop huh? Our brother always was the black sheep."
"Hey Aunt Den, Uncle Ned? Where did Dad hear the story of the Portraits of Angelo Mortimer?"
The two exchanged looks.
"Our mother, your grandmother, told this story to us when we were children. We thought it was dark for a kid's story, but of us three, your father took the biggest interest." Aunt Denise said.
Uncle Ned said "He was given this picture... Uh... How did the story go... It was a picture that resembled the first portrait. The..."
"The Monster of the Lost." Aunt Denise reminded him.
From Anne's purse, she took out the picture. "Is this it?"
"Yes. That's the one. I'm surprised it's in good shape." Aunt Denise replied.
"Harry wasn't too interested in the story, so my Dad told him the usual ones. I was, so he gave me this picture."
"It seems that history repeats itself." Uncle Ned says. "Keep the picture close by. This picture may not seem too much, but everyone with this picture, everyone that Warren has been with, has lived nice, quiet, and happy lives."
Anne looked at her Aunt and Uncle. "Aren't you guy's happy?"
It seemed like a loaded question. But logical. Denise was a famous actress. She's showered in fame and money. Ned was a successful CEO and was at least a billionaire.
"Fortune isn't everything dear." Aunt Denise said.
"Despite our success, we face problems and bad days." Uncle Ned added.
The two look at each other for a while. Lower their heads and speak.
"We should really get over that day... Can't we?" Denise said first.
"For Warren... Let's just look past this." Ned said next. The two shook hands.
Anne was happy there was a bright side to such a sad day, but after they left(They gave her a lot of spending money, but she's not very spendy) she couldn't help but go back to her father's last words to her.
"Its better to be lost, than to be surrounded by false happiness or peace."
"What did that mean?
My supply fell through."
-You're not here (Silent Hill)
Anne Nelson always loved her father's story of the 3 Portraits of Angelo Mortimer.
It was a strange fable to tell a 6 year old during bedtime.
The story goes as such:
The fires of creation bore three Portraits to rise from the ashes.
From these ashes, rose Angelo Mortimer.
These portraits circled Angelo for most of his life.
Why you ask?
Its Because the portraits held the windows to stories of life.
The first Portrait was named the Monster of The Lost.
This portrait painted an image of fog and flames with a sole figure covered by the fog.
It was said to protect Angelo and held his individuality and soul.
"Why Daddy?"
Because the portrait's monster was never a monster.
Beyond the picture, more people were believed to have crafted the term for him.
So in pressure of the evil townsfolk, he turned himself into the monster they branded him as
And destroyed the village.
All to protect himself. And in doing so, this image painted the same individuality he grants himself as well as the name he was given.
The Second Portrait painted an image of a hill. It was called Spades.
It didn't look like anything special, but its actually Angelo's sense of sanity and peace.
This portrait granted Angelo the power to avoid bad luck and create silence.
So its basically his lucky charm.
"Why did he need a lucky a charm?"
Because honey, life is consistently plagued by good and ill luck.
In this picture, the hill is simple because there are no outside factors to ruin this.
Its the neutrality that grants it its peace.
And in this peace he keeps his luck.
But there is always a price to avoiding certain luck.
The final portrait was named Unchained and to the Skies.
The portrait itself painted a picture of a dark sky with a single ray of hope and below it are chains unshackled.
This portrait was said to hold Angelo's Happiness and front.
"His front?"
The person he's become to the world. No longer a monster.
But a person that everyone knows.
No one knows why the portraits chose Angelo.
No one knows where they came from.
Just that, Angelo lived a quiet life. He passed his portraits on to his three children.
The Eldest had the first choice, and immediately chose his Happiness.
The Middle child, chose luck.
The youngest was granted the father's soul and protection.
The portraits have then been scattered far off. No one knows where they are anymore and so few know the fable of The Portraits of Angelo.
"Wow. I wanna find the portraits when I grow up."
Her father smiled.
"But be warned my daughter. Such portraits contain so much power. In the wrong hands, misfortune can only be found."
The first time her father told her this story, he gave her a picture similar to the the Monster of the Lost.
She kept that picture even into her adolescence.
It was one of the lasting memories of her father.
2 years before her graduation from high school, her mother told Anne and her brother, Harry, that her father contracted cancer. Anne's quiet life was rocked, but her father only continued to smile. He didn't seem in pain. She used a lot of her days visiting her father, doing part time jobs to earn some extra cash, and help her older brother find an apartment for when he goes to college.
A few days after she had graduated High School, her father had succumbed to his illness and died peacefully in the hospital.
But just a day before that, he told her daughter that story once again.
His last words to her were:
"In peace and happiness, even monsters deserve them. Even Monsters create such peace. Such happiness. Because only such desires for peace and happiness do people create monsters. And in this story, the monster is not a monster. Remember my child... Of the three, its better to be lost, than to be surrounded by false happiness or peace."
Anne didn't quite get her father's words. Were they a premonition? Or just a dying man's story coming to fruition?
"Of course dad." She said, with a confused, but believing voice. "I'll be back tomorrow to visit okay? I love you."
"And so the light will come. I love you too, Anne."
And he was gone. Just like that.
She told his story during his funeral and burial. She saw her Uncle Ned, her dad's older brother cry in recognition of the story.
Even though Uncle Ned was here, her Aunt Denise, her dad's older sister, came around. Her Uncle and Aunt have long since severed their ties because of a past fight, but they could never hate their youngest brother.
She was surprised these two even came. There were barely words exchanged between her and her uncle or aunt because they live relatively far and have seen grand successes. Denise was an A list actor and barely had time for her family. But Anne loved her, her also A list husband, and her cousin Ivan. Ned was a busy CEO of a video game company. He only has a daughter, her cousin Sam. He's long since separated from his wife.
Her dad was a quirky and known Comic Book Artist.
Though he wasn't as successful as his siblings, Anne could tell he was a lot happier than them.
"I can't believe Warren is dead." Her aunt said. "I only just spoke to him 2 weeks ago after getting cast in his comic's movie. And now he won't even see his work come to life."
"But you didn't visit him in the hospital." Ned said.
"Please." Anne's mother, Patrice, came between them. She knew that they could start a fight at any second.
"I'm sorry Pat." The two said and turned their attention to Anne.
"So you're going to college." Denise said.
Anne nodded. "I'm going to be an Art Major."
Ned placed a hand on her niece's shoulder. "Following in on Warren's footstop huh? Our brother always was the black sheep."
"Hey Aunt Den, Uncle Ned? Where did Dad hear the story of the Portraits of Angelo Mortimer?"
The two exchanged looks.
"Our mother, your grandmother, told this story to us when we were children. We thought it was dark for a kid's story, but of us three, your father took the biggest interest." Aunt Denise said.
Uncle Ned said "He was given this picture... Uh... How did the story go... It was a picture that resembled the first portrait. The..."
"The Monster of the Lost." Aunt Denise reminded him.
From Anne's purse, she took out the picture. "Is this it?"
"Yes. That's the one. I'm surprised it's in good shape." Aunt Denise replied.
"Harry wasn't too interested in the story, so my Dad told him the usual ones. I was, so he gave me this picture."
"It seems that history repeats itself." Uncle Ned says. "Keep the picture close by. This picture may not seem too much, but everyone with this picture, everyone that Warren has been with, has lived nice, quiet, and happy lives."
Anne looked at her Aunt and Uncle. "Aren't you guy's happy?"
It seemed like a loaded question. But logical. Denise was a famous actress. She's showered in fame and money. Ned was a successful CEO and was at least a billionaire.
"Fortune isn't everything dear." Aunt Denise said.
"Despite our success, we face problems and bad days." Uncle Ned added.
The two look at each other for a while. Lower their heads and speak.
"We should really get over that day... Can't we?" Denise said first.
"For Warren... Let's just look past this." Ned said next. The two shook hands.
Anne was happy there was a bright side to such a sad day, but after they left(They gave her a lot of spending money, but she's not very spendy) she couldn't help but go back to her father's last words to her.
"Its better to be lost, than to be surrounded by false happiness or peace."
"What did that mean?
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