Where the Writing Goes
Bence Pokorni and Alondra “Lonnie” Vicario. I have started on their main story, so I should be posting that here eventually, but in the meantime there is one story located in the writing tag of my personal blog and also a contest entry that I submitted under a penname.
This is a commission by PartyWithMaracas aka thatrabbitearedgirl.
Well, well, look who it is. I really ought to work on this. Or Wendell. Or… Something!
Commission by my dear friend, partywithmaracas AKA thatrabbitearedgirl. Thanks, hon!
I’ve decided I want to use this space for other things in addition to Wendell and Vant, thus new URL.
Wendell, as drawn by persephohi. Still missing, Wendell. Sorry. You can fix your hair, though.
(Source: fav.me)
29 notes (via thundercaya)
Oh hey, it’s Liam and Russell, as drawn by persephohi. I… should really get started on their story…. And also get Wendell going again. After NaNo, you guys. Hold me to it. Poke me in my ask box if I don’t make good.
The Wendell Morris Delusion Ch 4
“Why?”
Walsh glanced at me innocently and then turned back to his coffee. “Why what?”
“Why the hell did you do that to me?”
Walsh rolled his eyes. “Please. It wasn’t that bad.”
The Wendell Morris Delusion Ch 3
It was easy enough to get Jainey to visit the first time. My mother kept rabbits, and I knew that there wasn’t a girl in the world who could resist something cute and fluffy. I asked her over to play with them and she eagerly agreed.
My mother had to supervise us. It was a requirement for Jainey’s parents letting her come over. It was too bad; after the rabbits I would have loved to take her to sit by my favorite stream or to walk through my favorite orchard. At the very least, my mother let us be outside on her own, the window open so she could listen for trouble.
The Wendell Morris Delusion Ch 2
I didn’t grow up wanting to be in the FBI. As a kid I had no desire to be any particular thing, but I knew I did not want to be a gas station attendant.
My dad owned a service station, inherited from my grandpa who was still alive but retired. My uncle Doug worked for him, and probably always would. My older brother Harold was next in line to own the place, and if I didn’t figure something else out, I’d be stuck working for him forever.
