Monday, June 20, 2005

   When Chibis Attack! Part 8
Earlier chapters are archived here.

Part 8: In Which a Felony is Committed



Eventually, it is discovered that alcohol is an excellent solvent, helping dissolve gum as well as problems.

Eventually, it is discovered that the same super-deformed physics that allow Kougaiji to have more tears than blood also allow Goku to contain a greater mass of food than... well, than volume of Goku. NASA is not called for comment.

Eventually there is no more pie.





And, eventually, the relatively law-abiding segment of the group fall into what passes for sleep.

Meanwhile, a pair of nicotine-deprived miniatures have concocted a plan.

Desperation makes for strange plans.





"A carton of Marlboro Red and a carton of Hi-Lites."

Mr. Clerk has worked the midnight shift at the 7-11 for more years than the sum total of his schooling. He makes slightly better wages than his cousin, Mr. M. Wage-Clerk at the liquor store. He tries not to let it go to his head.

Nevertheless, experience has taught him to identify the underage with the speed of a chat-room pervert.

"ID, kid."

"I'm not a bloody kid. Here's my gold card. Is that ID enough, old man?"

Mr. Clerk feels that the odd shape in a long coat is a prime example of what happens when kids don't have enough After School Activities, like Part-Time Jobs. He feels, deep within himself, the altruistic urge to Set Things Straight.

The Straightening begins with The Sigh.




"Listen, kid. I know what it's like. I started smoking young myself, and it took me the better part of my life to quite."

"That's nice. See the card?"

"Sometimes I would "borrow" my parents money... or their cards." He makes the Ear Bunnies of Quoting. Ear Bunnies naturally follow The Sigh in his pattern of oratory.

"I mean, look at you. I can tell you're standing on another kid's shoulders. And you're still not as tall as a grade-schooler..." Mr. Clerk's Check Reality light has been worn down by too many graveyard shifts and past-expiry hoagies. Still, it flickers a feeble warning. "How old are you kids, anyway?"





The top figure in the long coat Has Had Enough. He grabs the counter in one pudgy hand and whips out a small silver gun. The bottom figure curses and wobbles at the sudden movement.

"Look. It's been a long day, and I need a goddamn cigarette. Hand them over, pops. Now."





Mr. Clerk has worked the midnight shift long enough to recognize almost all modern weaponry, and some of the ancient classics. He has America's Most Wanted on speed-dial, just in case. He gives due consideration to the gun, noting the delightful heart motif on the side.

The Sigh is invoked again.

"Kiss and Hugson, eh? Put it down, kid. I'm calling your mom. Both of your mothers. I'm surprised little guys like you are out at this time of night." Mr. Clerk notes that the little gun is now shaking, and chalks one up to the Fear of God having been put back into a Troubled Child. Being unfamiliar with Buddhist Monks, he is not in a position to grasp the irony of this thought.

As he turns his back to the counter and picks up the phone, neither is he in a position to see two Chibis climbing onto the counter, rolling up their sleeves.

His last, unintentionally humorous, words are:

"Really, I blame television..."




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Sunday, June 19, 2005

   I leave for a minute, and...
Had to take a friend around the city for 2 weeks... She's getting married, and I'm a ferry-boat captain. Except that last part was a lie.

So I get back and ...

Summoner_Rekka had left me a present...

It's perfect. I love it.
Go check it out, it's hilarious.
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Monday, June 6, 2005

   When Chibis Attack! Part 7
For those who missed the earlier episodes, they are archived here

Part 7: In Which There is Gum

Chibi Sanzo has already rifled the shopping bags. One remaining in his adorable little paw, he looks up at me.

"Where the hell are my cigarettes?"

Shifting Kougaiji around to one side ("Wuv you!"), I rifle the bags myself.

"Here." He catches the Nicorettes, showing surprising agility for such a short, round little fellow.

"What the hell?"

"Nicotine in gum form. This way we both get to keep breathing."

Out comes the little gun.

"Not for long."

"Kiss and Hugson's Saturday Morning Special" holds no terror for me. I am but a glass away from a considerable quantity of alcohol.

"Do you really think the little flag will say something different this time?"

Chibi Sanzo is momentarily mute with rage. I choose to live in the moment.





Chii-Goku has attached sponges to the end of the Nyoi-Bo and is vigorously sweeping water out of my front door. At some point I will have to convince nosey neighbors that a pipe burst in my front entrance. This will be much easier than convincing them that I am capable of doing anything vigorously. However, none of this is a problem that I can't avoid by drinking copious amounts of sugarcane-derived beverage.

Which reminds me...




Lil' Hakkai has begun the laborious task of dragging the shopping bags into the kitchen. Gojyo, in his own impression of 'helping', is trying to find a way to transport a bottle of rum that weighs more than he does.

I relieve him of that burden.

"Sweet! Ready to Party?" The little Kappa celebrates around my ankles.

"No."

"What!"

"Go get your own."

"What the hell?" His little hackles raise, and the antennae twitch in irritation. "You know, you're really starting to bug me, and I never thought I'd say that to a girl with breasts the size of my head..."

"You have a very small head."

Oh no... the image is back...

"Rain hats!!! Bwa ha ha ...." I can't hold in the snort. Little multi-colored, oddly shaped bad weather gear... mrrf...

Another chibi is now momentarily mute with anger. I know it can't last long, but oh what bliss!





Kougaiji under one arm ("I wuv you!"), the bottle under the other, and into the kitchen for a glass.

Goku and Hakkai pass me, a pair of shopping bags efficiently suspended between them on the Nyoi-Bo.




Sanzo, having recovered from his vocal paralysis, appears at my knee. He is waving the Nicorettes.

"I can't use these. I need cigarettes."

"The gum really is the same. You chew it, you become less irritable. Like rum, only you don't swallow."

"I don't care, I can't use it." He tosses them away. Gojyo catches the packet and starts fiddling with the foil bubbles, cursing mildly at the chibi-finger-frustrating glue.

"Why not?"

The Silence of the Knees. Perhaps he couldn't hear over the clatter of Chibi Hakkai and Chibi Goku grappling with pots and pans, engaging in a culinary Dance of Death on the stove top. I hope they are wearing fire-resistant clothes.

I speak up a little for the benefit of his cute little ears.

"Why not?"




The silence persists. As if pulled around by a finger up my nose, I turn to look at the twitching chibi.

He is looking intently at his little, round feet.

"...mumble mumble mumble..." he says.





Blink.





I try to rewind my brain. It doesn't quite work, but I could still swear that he just said 'mumble' three times.

I look at Kougaiji for confirmation.

"Heeeee..."

I look at the rum bottle for...

I really need a drink.




Oh hell. I just have to ask.



"Did you just say, 'Mumble mumble mumble'?"

Sanzo ceases inspecting his sandals with the speed of a cheetah on crack. His beet-red face glares up at me.

"It gets stuck in my hair, alright! Now go get me some goddamn cigarettes!




Blink.




"Mumble mumble?" I repeat, still stuck on the first conversational speed bump.

"Dinner is just about ready, Sanzo. I'm sure you can wait just a little longer." Hakkai calls from the stove top.

Goku sits atop the coffee maker, using the Nyoi-Bo to stir the contents of a pot. Something in the back of my head declares this unsanitary and marks the contents as inedible. Another part of me declares that the weight of the food on the table and stove is larger than the weight of the chibis combined. Even if they were hollow, all that food couldn't fit inside of them. Is Hakkai expecting guests? Large guests?

"Cheer up, Sanzo... It's not that hard to get the hang of." Gojyo mooches into the kitchen, mangled package in hand. He blows an enormous bubble, snaps it loudly and resumes chewing.

The bubble reminds me to stay away from the apples. Oh, the horrible apples...

"You think this is funny, you perverted Kappa?"

Two chibis fight in a ball of dust, knees and elbows on my kitchen floor. Two other chibis calmly stir pans on the stove.

"Are you sure it's not ready yet, Hakkai?"

"You know I'll tell you when it's ready, Goku."

"I know." Pause. "But I'm so huuuuuuuungry..."

"Not quite yet, Goku."

"Are you sure there's enough?"

"Four times your weight, plus allowances for the wear and tear of cuteness and hugs... minus what you nicked from the fridge while we were gone..."

"But I was so huuuuuungryy..."

"Ah! It's almost ready!"

"Hooray!"





I reach for a glass.

"I wuv you!" says my left elbow.

I reach for a big glass.

"Goddamn it!" hollers a suddenly paused combatant. A Time Out appears to have been called.

"It's in my hair! It's in my goddamn hair! I'm going to kill you, you worthless Kappa!"

"It's in my hair too, crap-faced monk! If you hadn't hit me in the head..."

"You're the one who got that stupid gum!"

"That was her!"

Four enormous, glaring eyes focus on me. Gojyo and Sanzo are now Siamese Gum Twins, joined at the hair. Triplets if you count the refrigerator door, which they are also attached to.

I reach for a pint glass.





"Now, now, calm down everyone. We're lucky that she's helped us at all. She could have turned us over to Men in White Coats, or Hormonal Housewives. We have to be grateful and deal with these sticky situations ourselves, ha ha ha."

Hakkai is advancing on the pair of chibis with a ridiculously gigantic pair of scissors. Unable to flee their sticky bonds, they cower together against the fridge door.

"I'm sure we can get it out with soap, Hakkai!"

"Or peanut butter!"

"Goku ate all the peanut butter," I had peanut butter? I didn't know I had peanut butter... "And you know, the longer we wait, the more hair I'll have to cut off."

"No! Not the hair!"




Lift bottle. Study contents, volume information. Do a little math. Remove cap. Drink.




"Um. I'm sorry, but shouldn't you eat a little something with that?" Hakkai looks up from terrorizing his fellow chibis with the Mega-Scissors. The sticky pair are being surprisingly imaginative and cooperative in removing their own gum.

"No thanks!" I cheerfully reply. "I find food interferes with the drunkimifying process, delaying the onset of unconsciousness."

There is a momentary, thoughtful pause.

"Oh well. I suppose you won't want any pie then."




Blink.




"Pie?"


"I didn't know we had pie!" Goku looks up at Hakkai.

"That's why we still have it... It's pumpkin, by the way."

"Pie."

Perhaps I can make room for pie.




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Thursday, June 2, 2005

   So... Addictive...
Once I get going, I can't stop... And it doesn't help that new medication has left me sea-sick on dry land, so I'm tied to this box.

Here's a redo of the wet water sprite. Something about the original ticked me off, so I re-colored it.

Then we have Sanzo laying down, looking like he needs some whiskers in the face.

While we're at it, here's Sanzo again, only turning around.

And, my reason for posting in the middle of the night (or, sort of...):
Gojyo's coming to get you,!

He's coming to take me away! Thank Goodness!

=^-.-^=
whiskers

Oh... and a mandatory Kougaiji wallpaper. I don't know why, but I've been on a big Kougaiji kick for about a month. (Couldn't you tell?...) Maybe it's the way he treats his mom and sister: you can learn a lot about a guy by how he treats his family. Maybe it's my Alpha Male obsession: I was a Sanzo girl before. Maybe it's red hair: I was after Gojyo before that...

Maybe it's the abs.

A--hem.

Anyway, it's late, and I'm getting fuzzy.
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Wednesday, June 1, 2005

   Back to What I'm Good At.
There's been way too much drawing and writing around here lately. So, here's some wallpaper...

Been working on this for a while. It's the skin I like. Which just sounds wrong.

Then there's Gojyo, who complies with city ordinances in that he comes in smoking and non-smoking.

Yes, I do think it's funny...
=^o.O^=

And this is entirely not funny. But's it is beautiful, in it's own way:
I hand-colored Sanzo-on-a-Stick, also available in black.

...

Took me hours. I think I'll go cry now.
=^T.T^=
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Wednesday, May 25, 2005

   When Chibis Attack! Part 6
If you've missed any chapters and want to catch up, it's archived here because I'm too lazy to move to another site.


Pulling into the weed-lined driveway brings on feelings of intense foreboding. The windows are dark and ominous, lighted by occasional flickers of unexplained movement. Instinctive reluctance to approach the obviously suspicious is only overcome by the nauseated desire to get away from the Idiot and Straight Man act playing on the back seat of the car.

I make for the door lugging the shopping bags, rum tenderly but securely tucked under my arm.

The wind howls in the eaves.

No, wait. That's not the wind...





The now-familiar sound of chibi voices come through the door as a muffled echo.

("For crying out loud SHUT UP, you stupid youkai!")
("You're going to be soooo embarrassed when you get back to normal, Kougaiji!")





Sick fascination draws me to the door like a salmon with a hook in its cheek. The howling grows unbelievably louder as I approach.

("Maybe you should hit him with something.")
("You hit him.")
("I can't... He's too cute.")

The curse words that undoubtedly follow are drowned out by inconsolable wailing.





There is a puddle on my front step. It appears to be dripping from inside the house. It had better be water.

("Kougaiji, you're going to be so embarrassed you won't even talk to yourself for a week!")

Key in the lock.

An image of Gojyo's earlier enormous snot bubble leaps into my head. Think again.

Carefully unpack one of the providential tissue boxes. They may have been an 'accidental' purchase, but I am now certain they have a purpose in my life...

Key in the lock.

("They're home! Sanzo, they're home!")
("If he doesn't shut up now, I'll definitely kill him.")

Tissue box defense engaged. Open the damn door.





My front entranceway has been sand-bagged with towels and paper towels, spare sheets and overgrown dust-bunnies. In the middle of a deep pool of (thankfully) clear, odorless saltwater sits Chibi Kougaiji. He is doing an incredible impersonation of a Chibi Fountain.

Tears pour out of his scrunched-up eyes at a rate more appropriate for a mechanical faucet than a biological orifice.




As I set the groceries on High Ground, the Realism Center of my brain lights up like the Service Engine Before it Breaks dial on my car.

If he had lost that much blood, he would definitely be dead. Yet, how could an (assumed) mammal have more of any body fluid than blood? Still, he continues to gush at a rate that could be measured in cubic centimeters per second. Pressure gauges come to mind.




I wonder if the government has a number in the book to call at times like this? 'The Department of Aliens and Stuff Like That, please leave a message after the tone...'

Imagine the technical applications for this! Little turbines could run on this seemingly endless supply of hot saltwater. Or perhaps there's a way to harness the noise energy in that painfully loud howl...?

Except...

Except no one could do it.




My own mother says I have no heart. I do not collect cute things, or paint pictures of fairies. I do not go to movies where Baby Kittens find their Mummies.

But still...

...

Poor little guy.

...

Take off shoes, roll up pant-legs. Step in.

"Come on, then."




The sudden end of the howling actually brings into focus just how loud it really was. Like stepping into the eye of a hurricane, a huge force ends and the calm seems almost surreal. Or, at least, slightly more surreal than being surrounded by one foot tall caricatures of fictional characters.

Kougaiji's snotty little face blinks up at me through runny eyes.

"...sniiiIIIIFFFF..." There is a vague suggestion of the possibility that the bawling may begin anew.

My Check Reality Soon light burns intensely for a moment, then makes a plink noise and goes dark.

Poor little guy.

...

"Who wants a hug?" Was that my voice?

"Me!"




It is a very odd situation to be in when having a snotty, damp, super-deformed youkai hanging from the front of one's shirt is an improvement.

I only have a moment to consider this, and to wonder why Kougaiji's response seemed to be echoed by several other little voices. This time limitation may be for the best.

Concentration. I need concentration. And a Mop.




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Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Watch Out, They Bite...
Speaking of tasty things... I made a few illustrations for When Chibis Attack!

Chibi Sanzo is Caught Reading the Chibi Times

Chibi Kougaiji Chibi Attack!

And that's it, possibly for the week. I'm kind of busy. You know. Kitten stuff.
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   Snackies
Kougaiji thinks you look tasty. He must be feeling snacky.
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Friday, May 20, 2005

   And the Winner is....
I'm home at last! and thanks to a heart-warming combination of anti-epileptics and beer I can look forward to some sweet dreams tonight.

Hurrah for the medical community! Hurrah for specialists! Hurrah for Really Good Coverage, without which I would be Royally Screwed.

People keep asking, so I'll tell you a secret...

All together now:

CB is a medical 'freak', and that's a technical term!

Yay for me.


Speaking of being 'royally' screwed... I'm just watching Saiyuki Reload Gunlock ep.5, courtesy of Anime-Kraze. I'd like to nominate Kougaiji for the Oscar of Best Abs in a Supporting Role. That's some mighty fine abdominal musculature. Two thumbs up, Ooji-sama!

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Tuesday, May 17, 2005

   Cuteness... and Revenge!!
The Count of Monte Cristo Chibi-style!

Because, you know, revenge is a dish best served cute.

Here's the anime's homepage. I wonder if it'll ever get dubbed...?
=^..^=
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