You wasted an hour sitting behind your laptop, trying to fool yourself into believing you weren’t totally distracted by that Post-It. Over and over you’d push it out of your mind, start reading the email and the words would become a meaningless jumble of letters and you were back to wondering what it could mean. If it meant anything at all! Finally, surrendering to your curiosity you shut your laptop and threw on your shoes and hoodie and back headed out.
Hurrying down the front walk you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw her car hadn’t been moved. It was still sitting crooked in the spot. You tugged your hood up to protect against the rain…but also to maybe try and hide your identity for when you had to get on your hands and knees to peer under the car to find the apartment number painted on the reserved spot.
You crossed the court at a pace just shy of a jog and got to the front doors. You punched in the security code in a small number panel off to the side. Luckily the code you were given worked for all buildings. You slipped inside and winced with every wet, squeaky footstep on the polished floors.
Her apartment was on the ground floor, near the rear of the building. You followed the gently lit corridor until you found her door. Most of the door handles were shiny rose gold. It accented the rich purple and light pink decor pleasantly and matched with the understated frosted shell-shaped sconces that lined the hall.
You stopped and listened before knocking. You could hear the low murmur of a TV. You got the sense it was a soap opera from just the cadence of the muffled dialog as well as some distant clatter. Chances are someone was home. You took a breath, thought what you might say when she opened the door and knocked. Hoping only after the fact that she actually parked in the right spot.
There was no answer.
You waited half a minute then knocked again. Maybe she hadn’t heard you. It’s then you realized the clatter had stopped, but the dialog continued on the TV. You froze, listening so intently you held your breath, and could hear the clomp of heels slowly getting closer but not coming right up to the door.
“Umm hi?” Your voice broke the silence of the hallway and you actually startled yourself. “I’m your neighbor. I live in The Lilac building. I saw you, I think it was you anyways, earlier today. You were getting out of your car and your arms were full and well you dropped a Post-It and I don’t know if it was important or not so -”
“It’s nothing!” an anxious, raspy voice barked from somewhere within the apartment.
“Oh. Oh-okay because it looked maybe important.”
“It’s not! It’s not, you can slide it under the door. Thank you. You don’t need to read it. Goodbye thank you for stopping by.”
She hasn’t moved. You didn’t hear any clomping of her chunky heels. It was clear she wasn’t ready to open the door but this wasn’t the first time you talked a woman into opening the door after they’ve locked themselves in a room. Your high school friends seemed to attract drama and you were often the peacekeeper…
(Brains: TN 50; roll 50 - 10 (for Just One of the Girls) = 40. Success!)
“I - I couldn’t help but notice earlier today, and maybe I’m totally wrong, but … I got the sense maybe you were having a bad day and I just wanted to let you know that if you wanted to talk to someone I would be happy to listen. I could pick up coffee and we could chat, there’s a really cute place around the corner, I could run and …"
You heard a new noise. It kind of sounded like soft crying but you couldn’t be sure. Just as you were about to continue the clomping slowly approached the door and it cracked open, just enough for her to peer through.
She was several inches taller than you. Her uncombed hair still fell wildly around her meaty face. She had deep set green eyes caked with uneven liner and too much mascara. She had a clumsy gradient of purple shadow that was too dark and too large. It was garish. Her mouth was a tight line, her lipstick a glossy bright pink that didn’t match at all. She was struggling to hold back tears.
Slowly, as if moving stage by stage, she looked up until she met your eyes. He was losing the battle to hold back her tears. She held your gaze for a few seconds before she shook her head ‘no’.
The click of a door being opened came from a short ways down the hall. Her head flashed up to see where the sound came from. You followed but the moment you were distracted she snatched the Post-It out of your hand in a flash. Her nails were long and chipped and pink.
Fear overtook her sadness as she hissed, “You need to leave! Leave Now! Tonight! Leave!”
The door slammed in your face and both the chain and the deadbolt clicked into place. You listened as she hurriedly clomped away into her apartment.
“That’s Misty,” a delicate voice said.
From where the door popped up stood a woman in her late thirties or early forties. She was wearing a pink satin blouse, black pencil skirt, and black pumps. Her jewelry was delicate pearls and small gold bands. She was slender, with styled shoulder length hair and a full face of makeup. She wore a lot around her chestnut eyes but it worked. Gave her a mysterious/femme fatale kind of a vibe.
“She’s a sweetheart who is just having some troubles at the moment. She’s coming around though. I think she’s just finding herself at the moment.” She said as she walked up to you and offered her hand to shake. There was a melodic quality to her voice and her movements.
“Paige Marshall. I am such an awful snoop but did I hear you say you were our neighbor? Must be new.”
You shook her hand, introduced yourself and said, “Yeah, just moved in. I saw her today getting out of her car and she was – “
“-- a mess? We know. Tsk tsk tsk. You know we have tried to find out what the matter is but she just won’t talk. Barely leaves her apartment. Us girls have tried to get her to come out and join us but she doesn’t want to. Can’t even get her to talk to us but no luck. Heck, we couldn’t even get her to open the door so congratulations to you. You must have the magic touch.”
“I mean, apparently. I just wanted to make sure she was okay ya know?”
“And you came all the way over to check on her? Aren’t you the sweetest? That’s something you don’t find in men all that often!” She laughed and placed her hand on your arm and held it there, then, “I’m sorry! That was mean! I take it back! I hang out with all ladies and I’m sure you can guess there are some rather sexist jokes that get thrown around. I apologize. So when did you move in?”
There was an intensity to her stare, the way she was waiting for an answer with her hand still pressed against your arm that felt disarming.
“Umm about a week or so now.”
“Oh you’re NEW new. Well welcome! Which building? Lotus or Lilac?”
“Lilac.”
“I have a ton of friends over there. Have you met Lillian?"
“Umm no, I haven’t.”
“Oh she is a riot you’ll love her I’ll introduce you have you had a chance to settle in?”
“Not - not really.” Distantly you realized that you were answering without really thinking. Something about the melodic tone to her voice and the pace at which she spoke just drew the answers out of you.
“Well, I'm sure we can make you feel like this place is home in no time what do you do for a living?”
“I - um - nothing at the moment. I’m currently looking-.”
“Oh no! That’s awful! But you know, let me ask around and I might know someone who might have something for you!”
“Really? That’d be amazing! Thank you!”
You looked up and realized she had at some point moved next to you, guided you away from Misty’s door and to her own. You were looking into a white and clean modern apartment with a pink couch and teal accent pillows. The walls were covered in a combination of watercolor paintings of flowers and the kind of art you’d buy at Target or Home Goods with affirming slogans in feminine fonts.
“You are very welcome you have to come in and gab I just got a cappuccino machine and I have been experimenting and I would love to know what you think. Come, come.” she said, giving you a gentle guiding push past her threshold and into her apartment. It smelled faintly of her perfume.
She struts in, shutting her door behind her and locking it. Her pumps click on the floor as she heads into her kitchen. Beckoning you to follow. She immediately starts fiddling with a big brass machine on her counter. “I like to make a seasonal brew for the ladies at our little get-togethers. They all love it and you are the perfect guinea pig to try my new concoction!
“Oh this will be fun. I love meeting new neighbors. Please, sit, sit. We’re kind of a community here at Lavender Valley. I know it sounds cheesy but we’re kind of a tight knit group. It’s important I feel. To be a community that is. So often nowadays you don’t find one we’re all on our phones or whatever. Maybe we have work friends that we tell ourselves are friends but never go out with or spend time with outside of work. I think it’s sad. Don’t you?”
You take a seat at the bar and she whisks over to a hanging rack of coffee cups and takes two and places them on the bar as the cappuccino machine starts to hiss and chug. It was like a bombardment. You could barely keep up with her.
“Oh. Yeah. Totally.”
“So I like to make it a point to welcome everyone. See who is going to fit into our little clique here. So who have you met thus far?”
“Just my neighbor Sophie and Josh.”
“Sophie is a sweetheart!” She exclaims. The cappuccino machine begins to gurgle and she grabs the cups and starts filling them. She doctors them up with some powders and a small carton of maybe creamer before turning and setting one in front of you and cradling hers between her hands. She’s smiling brightly. The cup is white porcelain with a gold feminine filigree pattern. There’s a printed (you hope) lipstick mark where your lip will rest.
“Josh though,” her smile dims and she grows serious, “I can’t say he’s part of the community. He’s…well…if you two are friends I don’t want to say.”
“What? No go ahead. I hung out with him once. He seemed okay for the most part.” you say, grabbing the cup and cradling it like her.
“Well. He and my friend Andrea were spending some time together and they seemed cute and happy and then next thing we knew he was avoiding her and not answering her calls. Still hasn’t. I used to see him leave for work and I think he changed that time so that he wouldn’t see her! Can you imagine? Honey, you just don’t do that to a person. It shows me what kind of a man he is. I’m sorry.”
You lean in to take a sip but could feel the heat on your lip. Paige watched with anticipation as you prepared to drink. But it was going to obliterate your mouth so you lowered it, letting it cool a bit more to spare yourself.
“No, you’re right. He told me all about it. Said he ‘felt weird’ and he got freaked out. I know. I know. It’s a lame excuse. He didn’t know why but from what he told me, he just kind of freaked out. I think he got uncomfortable being surrounded by all women and the conversations that he didn’t really feel a part of. I can kind of understand how that might be.”
You lifted the cup to drink again but it was still too hot.
“Oh girl, are you for real? Between you and I, that is kind of sad. Maybe Andrea dodged a bullet!”
Just as you were going to take a sip you put it down again. She shifted and it seemed almost like she was forcing a smile. As if something was irritating her a little. “I kind of told him to text her and apologize,” you admitted.
“You didn’t! Was he going to do it?”
You choose to answer instead of sipping the cappuccino, “He did. He sent the text. I haven’t talked to him yet to see how that went.”
“Oh no. Well I am going to have to call Andy tonight and find out what happened. I am dying to know.” Paige sipped her coffee. Her eyes narrowed as if she were studying you. Then she asked, “So he felt ‘weird’ huh? That’s not the first time we’ve heard that from a man who lived here.”
There was a hesitation in what she said next, “How about you? You haven’t felt ‘weird’ have you? I know it’s kind of disorienting to move into a new place but how are you feeling about living here?”
Her dark eyes bore into yours with a kind of intensity that felt as if it were drawing you in. She had a bright charisma and an energy that drew you into her orbit. You felt excited to be chatting with someone new and eager to tell her about Lavender Valley.
She sips her cappuccino again and you become suddenly aware that you haven’t. You bring it to your lips and…
(Brains roll TN 30. Roll 15. Success!)
…just before you take a sip you catch the briefest floral scent. It was heavier, almost with more body to it. It was there and gone in an instant, overcome with cinnamon and coffee. But there was no mistaking it. It was the exact perfume that filled your apartment this morning…
1.) GET OUT! You know what you smelled and this is just too weird. Don’t drink the cappuccino and find the fastest way to get out of her apartment. Whatever is going on here she is part of it. (This will result in a Cunning check and other consequences)
2.) Don’t Drink It! Trust your instincts. You’re not sure if you smelled that perfume, but you don’t want to take the chance. Not until you know what’s going on. Figure out some way to avoid drinking it while still continuing to chat with Paige who seems sweet. . (This will result in a Resolve check)
3.) This Again??? You tell yourself to stop being absurd. Hell, you don’t even know if you actually smelled it. Drink the cappuccino. Don’t be rude. Then continue to chat with Paige, who seems very sweet. (This will result in a Resolve check and other consequences)
2025-01-10 12:23:28 +0000 UTC
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The fresh air was just what you needed to clear your head.
You set out on the same path you walked the other day. You were sure the path continued on past the gazebo to form a larger loop around the whole complex. It wasn’t a marathon but you just wanted to get out and stretch your legs so it would be good enough.
By the time you got dressed and made it out of your complex’s front door most of your neighbors had already left for work. Though a few stragglers were still making the hasty walk to the sheltered car park where all the tenants parked.
From the time it took you to cross the courtyard you counted eight stragglers. They were shielding themselves from the weather under umbrellas, wrapped tight in long rain coats and from across the courtyard the murky morning haze reduced them to nearly featureless human forms. It was subtle, especially from a distance but you could tell they were all women just by the way they walked. There was a kind of grace and a sway to their stride especially when wearing heels.
Your mind began to drift back to what Josh had said about being the only men living here. It didn’t make sense. Yet as you scanned each straggler, analyzing them for the subtitles that would reveal their gender, you clocked each one of them as a woman. If it were true that you, Josh and that other guy Josh had mentioned were the only men, why would that be? Did they make a point to only rent to women? If so why only three men? Surely there were boyfriends and husbands living here. Surely someone had a deadbeat brother who was couch surfing, right? It had to be.
Letting your thoughts drift without any real direction, you walked past the gardens, to the gazebo and then followed the path that would lead you down along the rear of the complex. There was a line of trees on one side of the paved path and tall grasslands with cattails on the other. No one else was out, you had it all to yourself. It was perfect.
Eventually the path ended at a tall chain link fence marking the neighbors property and an alley that was used primarily by maintenance vehicles and garbage trucks. You didn’t want the walk to end but you were starting to feel soggy and you really should spend some time today finding a job. So you stepped into the alley and followed it around to the front of the complex and the final leg of your cleansing walk.
Shortly after starting down the front sidewalk that ran along the sheltered parking spots a flash of headlights turning in from the main road caught your attention. The car was going a little too fast as it swung into a parking spot about forty or fifty feet from where you were and lurched to a heavy stop. A second later a woman clumsily stumbled up onto the sidewalk.
Her arms were full and she was struggling. She fought first with her long and straight dirty blonde hair that insisted on wrapping around her face and getting caught in her mouth. She tried to spit out the strands of hair while fighting with the compartments of her large purse that wanted to gape open and collect all the rain. As she dug around inside with her one free hand bits of paper, wrappers and other belongings spilled out. She cursed as she dove to scoop them back into the bag. Her other arm was occupied by fighting to keep her Sephora bag from slipping from her armpit and crashing to the ground.
The entirety of her performance of frustration and incoordination lasted only a few seconds before she found her keys and collected herself just enough to lope toward the front door of her building.
(Cunning Roll, -10% for Just One of the Girls: Success!)
She was wearing chunky heels that weren’t too tall, two or three inches if you had to guess. Though from how far away you were it was tough to tell. It was clear she didn’t know how to walk in them. She walked pitched forward slightly, as if falling and by pure determination and luck caught herself with each step. She was tall, with broad shoulders that seemed at odds with the curviness of her hips. She wore a black cardigan over a shiny blue blouse and a pair of brown pants that fell just past the ankles. There was an awkwardness to how she held herself, how she dressed and…everything else about her. It wouldn’t be unfair to call her a hot mess.
With the grace of a newborn fawn she crossed the courtyard and whipped the door open to her building just wide enough for her to slip inside and then vanished out of sight. You slowed as you approached her car, unable to take your eyes off the front of her building. Expecting maybe that she’d emerge with a weirdness encore that might bring some kind of explanation or closure to what you just watched. Unfortunately that didn’t happen..
You shook your head to clear whatever that was from your thoughts but before you could continue on home you caught something out of the corner of your eye. Through the windshield of the decade-old sedan in the backseat was a pile of clutter half covered with a blanket that appeared to have a sports team logo you kind of recognized. You took a step closer and noticed that beneath the blanket was a high vis vest, muddy boots, heavy stained jeans and a Carhartt hoodie. You’re pretty sure you also saw a stubby brim of a hard hat poking out as well from behind all that. On the floor in front of them were three black garbage bags full of what appeared to be old tee shirts, jeans and boxer briefs, all in black, blues and greys stuffed behind the seats.
None of these looked like they were even close to fitting the woman you saw. She was broad shouldered but not that broad shouldered. Even from your vantage point you could tell that those would fit a giant. Maybe they were her boyfriend’s or her husband’s. Maybe she packed them up to give to goodwill and like most people they would need to sit in the car for six months before actually being donated.
Either way, Sophie was right. There were other men that lived here.
Weirdly the backseat was the cleanest part of the car. The front was full of trash. Crumpled and greasy bags of fast food and half drunk bottles of soda had been thrown onto the floor of the passenger side almost up to the seat. The dashboard had wadded balls of paper gathering like tumbleweeds while the console was covered in yellow Post-It notes that hung over most of the gauges and controls. They were scrawled with writing too messy to read. Hanging from the mirror were a clump of a dozen or more old gas station air fresheners as well as some dog tags.
A flash of hot pink in the heap of trash directed your attention to what was not one, but a bunch of issues of Sports Illustrated, particularly the swimsuit editions. Was she trying to hide them beneath the trash? Why didn’t she just throw them out?
You became suddenly aware that you were just leering into someone's parked car and if you weren’t careful the cops would be called. It’s not like the neighbors knew you yet. So you stepped away and hastily finished your walk hoping that each car that turned into the complex’s drive wasn’t about to flick on its flashers and hit its siren.
A few minutes later you were walking in your apartment, throwing your soggy hoodie up on the hook and kicking off your damp sneakers. Safe from the fuzz that was surely scouring the entire state for the car-peeping perp.
The first thing you did was sniff the air. You felt a sinking feeling hit your guts as you braced to smell that phantom perfume, but it had cleared. Of course it had. Still though you felt a sense of relief and you again reminded yourself that you were being absurd.
You took a deep non-perfumed breath and prepared to get back to your routine.
You thought maybe you’d make a quick bite to eat and then settle in at the computer for a few hours. After that you wondered if you should give Josh or Sophie a text and set something up for the weekend. It had been a while since you were stable enough to just hang out with friends.
Just as you were about to make your way to the kitchen you noticed a small bit of yellow paper stuck to the bottom of your shoe. Ordinarily you would have ignored it but you noticed on the small exposed corner the end of a translucent strip of adhesive. It was a Post-It note.
It must have one of the things that fell out when she struggled with her oversized purse.
You plucked it off the bottom of your shoe. It was soaked through and dirt from the walk was scoured into it making it almost impossible to read. Almost. It took some studying to figure out what it actually said.
It was dated about a month ago and beneath it was a scrawl of words in shaky handwriting. The sentences seemed to run into one another and were crammed together wherever they could fit as if someone was frantically writing in a hurry.
Weaker now cant lift things can’t do job anymore
I shaved my face and arms and chest hair was disgusting
Hormones??? Doctor doesn’t understand whats going on going to see Theresa
Hair growing faster now, no longer bald turning lighter???
No one believes me what is happening?????
Fashion on youtube WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY
You read it a few more times to make sure you deciphered the erratic notes correctly. It’s clear this was written by someone who was disturbed. It was paranoid nonsense.
Still though, as you reread the soaked note…you felt sick. A heavy pitt grew in your stomach. You told yourself this is nonsense. That this was insane ramblings. That it was meaningless
But…why did it resonate with you? Why did it make you feel…so weird?
1.) Mention it to Sophie. Relax. This is a disturbed person and you were being silly again. Talk to Sophie about this. Maybe she can shed some light on what is going on with her.
2.) Show Josh the Post-It. Trust your instincts. Everything is telling you this is weird and Josh might be the only one who will believe you.
3.) Go to the Source. Head over to Awkward Woman’s house and return to the note and maybe…just maybe…shed some light on what this paranoid scrawl actually means.
2025-01-06 11:06:57 +0000 UTC
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“Real quick,” you say, “Josh said me, him and one other guy were the only men living here at Lavender Valley. Surely that’s not true right?”
“No. Of course not,” Sophie says though you wonder if perhaps you detected a moment of hesitation. “This is a big complex. Give it time and a few more will scurry out of their man caves.”
She flashes a grin as she takes a few more steps toward her apartment.
“Yeah. No. Totally. You’re probably right. It’s just Josh was telling me that a ton of the tenants get together in the gazebo and have tea and chit chat and it was all women and except for Josh everyone I’ve seen here has been women.”
“Well, sure. But it’s not women-only. Hell Josh was invited and came a few times but then stopped. He got kind of weird, if I’m being honest. Never figured out what his deal was. What did he say about it?”
“Just that it made him feel weird.”
Sophie takes a beat then says, “huh”.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just that’s kind of vague. What does "weird” mean?”
You shrug, “I’m not sure. It seemed to me like he was brought there by Andrea and probably felt out of place because the conversations were all girl-y.”
She smirks, “Oh. I see.” She glances over her shoulder, down the empty hall and then takes a step toward you so she doesn’t have to speak as loudly. “So he found himself in a situation where he was surrounded by women, who were chatting about things that interest us and because it wasn’t in his wheelhouse he got weird then did Andrea dirty by ignoring her and then ran away? He got so uncomfortable he had to run away because it wasn’t on his terms.”
“Well, I don’t know if it’s exactly that. I mean he seems like an okay guy.”
“Let me ask you this; what did you two hung out?”
“We had some beers and watched sports.”
“Right, and are you into sports?”
"I mean, not really.”
She responded with an exaggerated knowing smirk. “His terms.”
“But it’s not like I don’t dislike those things! I just don’t make it a point to keep up with all the teams and the points and who is in the Super Bowl or whatever. We did other things too and chatted. There was pizza.
“Listen, I get what you’re saying. But if I may, let me defend Josh for a second. It’s not easy to be a guy in a group of girls. It’s uncomfortable. Growing up all of my friends were girls and when you’re outnumbered in a platonic relationship as a guy you feel like you want to pull back and defend yourself against…girl-y stuff. It takes a while to relax and join in. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because boys are raised to fight back against anything feminine, maybe it’s some deep seated insecurity, maybe it’s biological - I don’t know. But that’s how it feels and maybe it just caught him off guard. He did just get out of a marriage too so maybe that had something to do with how he reacted.” (Trait: Just One of the Girls)
Sophie thinks for a moment then says, “I didn’t know that. When a man just gets all weird and bails and then avoids women it basically is a huge red flag for us ladies.”
“Totally understandable. I did convince him to text Andrea though. Maybe mend fences and bury axes. Seemed like he really liked her and was kind of angry with himself and how he acted.”
She smirks again. “I can’t wait to hear how that went.”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“Andrea does not put up with shit. You know how everyone online is saying “girl boss”? Pretty sure the first person to utter that phrase was thinking about her. He’s going to have to perform a miracle to get back in her good graces. She is way out of his league.”
“Well here’s hoping those two crazy kids can make it work?”
“To the beauty and the shlub!” she says miming making a toast. “Before I go, gimme your phone” You unlock it and hand it to her. She opens your text app and sends one. Her phone dings then she hands it back to you.
Sophie flashes a final amused smirk before making the short walk to her door. Before she goes in she looks back at you and says, “Did I hear you right a minute ago? You’re not a dude who is afraid of his feminine side?”
You shake your head, “nope.”
“Good. Maybe you will fit in around here after all. ‘Night.”
You give your teeth another brush before bed to get the sugary canned wine off of them and settle into bed. You had a bit of whiplash from Sophie first being so rude and then becoming actually pleasant. You had fun. It was familiar. It was just chatting and a bit of gossip. You missed it after everyone went their separate ways after college - getting married and having kids and getting jobs in other states. You missed it. Josh was fun but it wasn’t ever your thing.
As you started to drift off to sleep, feeling the distant buzz of the alcohol working its way out of your system, a low rhythmic thudding of bass suddenly began to pulse through the walls. You were suddenly awake and suddenly angry. Then it ended. Your phone dinged a second later and Sophie’s text read, “jk lol. Enjoy ur beauty sleep” .
“So it’s going to be like that, huh?” you text back. Her response a second later is just a tongue-out emoji. It is going to be like that.
You woke up earlier than usual the next morning. You felt a bit off. There were some hints of disassociation. Probably from the hangover you had almost purged from your system. You got up, stretched away the stiffness that came with sleeping on an air mattress and started your day.
There was a pleasant gloom outside with a gentle rain beading on the windows of the breakfast nook overlooking the courtyard. Headlights of cars pulling out of the lot glinted in the droplets of the water as everyone was heading off to work.
You sniffled away a bit of congestion and as you took your next breath smelled a faint floral scent hanging in the air. There was a surprising depth to the scent. It was complex and rich. You could sense notes of honeysuckle and night blooming lilies. Before you knew it you were totally fixated on the smell. Doing what you could to breathe in as much of it as you could not because you liked it but because it was making you feel anxious. Your heart began to beat faster, your palms grew sweatier with every long sniff you couldn’t stop yourself from taking.
Maybe it was left over from Sophie. Was she wearing perfume? You eyed the mostly empty cans of wine in the sink. Maybe they had been bleeding off the scent all night. But they didn’t taste floral. Maybe it came under the door from a woman who passed by a few minutes ago.
Wait, is this the smell Josh was talking about?
Your anxiety threatened to become panic before you finally were able to muster enough control. This was absurd! Clearly this was just a smell lingering in the still air of your apartment. You marched to the sink, rinsed the cans out then cracked a window. Within a few seconds the scent grew fainter and fainter, replaced by the pleasant smell of rain and fresh soil.
You sat down at the bar and booted up your laptop. You were shaking and struggling to calm yourself. You tried deep breathing but every few breaths you caught another whiff of that phantom scent. It was as if it were stuck in your nose. You felt lightheaded…you felt intoxicated…you felt weird…
You demanded that you stop it but whatever respite from the anxiety that the order brought you was gone within a few seconds. The moment you let your guard down the anxiety would return and so would that phantom smell. You couldn’t concentrate on the emails. No matter how many times you tried to focus you couldn’t. Words seemed to have lost meaning. Your brain was being pulled back to that scent…
1.) I Gotta Clear My Head. Go out and go for a walk and calm down. Stress. This is stress. With everything that has gone on I probably just got weirdly triggered and getting out and getting some exercise is just what the doctor ordered.
2.) I Should Call Sophie. Call and ask her about the perfume and find out maybe it was left over from her or something. Put an end to this mystery and try not to sound like a total lunatic.
3.) I Should Call Josh. He said something about smelling this perfume. He won’t think I’m insane.
2024-12-25 09:00:46 +0000 UTC
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I need to start by thanking everyone for supporting me. I've been drawing TG/TF stuff for a lot of years now and it's always been other people's projects. Having to make a couple of bucks as well as working and doing the life thing really didn't leave any time for me to an original project. So it's been super nice to be able to do Mommy Dearest this year and everyone here made that possible. That has been awesome and creatively satisfying so thank you so, so much.
Back when this started Mommy Dearest I was talking to a friend of mine and I said that it was going to be like 10 pages max. That was my big plan. Then it turned into 20. Then it turned into 50 and I think the final page count is 105. Admittedly this got a little out of hand but I am super happy with how it's turned out. I know there's a certain formula to a lot of TG stories floating around the web and I really wanted to tell a story that was more than just a vehicle for the transformation. Which is great, don't get me wrong, but I wondered if I could do it. I feel like I did.
So as it's now officially Christmas Eve where I'm at I wanted to write this, thank everyone, wish everyone a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays and tell you that there are two other projects lined up after Mommy Dearest and that the script of Mommy Dearest is now fully mapped out and ready to put pencil to bristol.
After the last update I took some time and let the ideas marinate so I could stick the landing. I'm glad I did. There was two major revisions and I am super happy with this version. After Christmas I will begin work on the penultimate update and then the finale. I'm excited to finally tell a complete story and I'm psyched to start these smaller commissions (which will be uploaded here) and then we may need to figure out what's the next original TG story I want to tell.
Thank you again and I hope you all have a great holiday season!
2024-12-24 05:35:44 +0000 UTC
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You open the door, fill the threshold and cross your arms.
She looks up at you with a slight, amused smile.
It becomes a stand off. She tilts her head, you raise an eyebrow, and neither wants to be the first to speak. With a roll of her eyes and a sigh she surrenders.
“Aren’t you going to invite your favorite neighbor in?” she asks.
You might literally have done a double take. “No. I was not planning on it, no.”
“Listen, about earlier I might have been a little -”
When she pauses to search for the word you interject, “Rude? Awful? Grating? Exhausting?”
“Sure. All those things. But I had some time to reflect and I got some wise words and now I’ve come to realize that perhaps I was a bit standoffish when you came over earlier.”
“Yes you were. Listen, I'm getting ready for bed so…”
“Right, okay. I want to formally apologize and introduce myself. Hello I’m Sophie, nice to meetcha, and I brought alcohol as a peace offering. I thought we’d drink it and chat and make amends and bury axes but I see it’s not the best of times. So we can do this another time.”
You almost let her walk away. A part of you wanted to stay cold and send her sulking back to her apartment as a defeated woman so you could revel in the victory. But that felt cruel. She did come over and apologize after all. It would be better to let bygones be bygones.
“No. It’s fine. Come on in.”
You step out of the way and flick the lights on which you realize casts a harsh light on the emptiness of your apartment. The living area was empty except for a coat rack near the door that had a coat and a hoodie on it. The only real place to sit was the stubby bar in the kitchen that had two stools. That’s been your office for the past few days.
Sophie walks in, slows slightly in the spartan living area then walks to the bar and sets down a six pack of tall, slender and very pink cans of Hello Gorgeous. You can tell she was put off by the fact you have basically nothing.
“I umm, don’t really have a place for us to sit. Just in the kitchen there” You say.
“Hey, no worries. Going through a rough patch eh’? Been there.” she says.
She peels one of the cans of booze off, cracks it open and winces as she drinks it. “This is all that was in my fridge. Have some. It’s gross but it’s alcoholic.”
She had changed from earlier. She was wearing a vintage Pixies band tee shirt, tight ripped jeans and short heeled boots. She had a bunch of different necklaces and bracelets, which didn’t at all match her large hoop earrings or many rings. Her blonde hair was still pulled back in a ponytail but with two loose locks that fell down either side of her face. She had a mischievous smile as she leaned and sipped the drink that made you wonder if her narrowed hooded eyes and wry smile was just her.
You walked over and grabbed a can. It was called Hello Gorgeous, a grape and elderflower wine. You popped it open and took a slug. It was bitter and floral. Not something you’d normally choose at a bar but you did feel a bit more ‘at home’ with it than Josh and his micro brewed beer collection.
“And he passes the test,” she mused. You replied with a puzzled look.
She gestured to the wine in your hand, “You weren’t afraid of a girly drink. A lot of men would have found an excuse to avoid this like it was going to make you grow tits or something.”
You chuckle, “Right, well, what’s the calories on these things with enough of them maybe that will happen!”
She smiles and continues that almost predatory stare but doesn’t laugh, “alright. You’re funny. You can hang. I like that. So what’s your story? Why don’t you have a couch, a TV or a playstation or anything?”
You take another drink. The bubbles seem to hit you, going right to your head. Maybe that’s why you appreciated her forwardness. “Pipe burst in my old place, destroyed everything I owned and I’d have to fight the landlord in court to get his insurance to pay for it. He was a scumbag and I didn’t have the money. Story as old as time.”
“Yeesh. That sucks. I’m sorry. I was expecting like you sold it to feed a raging crack habit or lost it all in a messy divorce. Because no offense but this kind of gives off bitter divorcee vibes but man, that sucks. They say you’ve been here for a week right?”
“Just a few days actually.”
“Oh. I was out of town. I missed the newsletter. Okay so it’s not such a red flag that you don’t have anything. Waiting for payday before you order some furniture?”
“Actually, I am looking for a job.”
Her eyes widened with surprise, “don’t like the one you’re at?”
“I told my boss off and stormed out after he was a giant dick to me. Haven’t looked back. Bridge is burned.”
“My man.” She raised her fist for a bump. You obliged. She takes a long drink, winces, and says, “So your apartment is a loss, you leave your house then tell off your stupid boss and now you’re jobless and you move in here at Lavender Valley.”
“That sums it up.”
“Who have you talked to here?”
“Just Josh so far, down at the end of the hall.”
She interrupts, “Yeah, I’ve run into him once or twice.”
“Yeah, just him. And Mrs. Primm who did the lease.”
Sophie nods, “She’s great. You know she doesn’t just rent this place to anyone. Lavender Valley is a special place. I don’t know how much you have noticed but this place isn’t just some apartment complex it’s more like a sanctuary. It’s for people who need a break - who need a change.”
“She does that for everyone here? I mean I didn’t tell her that whole epic sob story or anything.”
“You don’t have to, Mrs. Primm knows.” She says as she drains her can.
You smirked, unsure how to respond. If you didn’t know better it sounded like she was suggesting Primm had some sort of clairvoyance or intuition. Though it isn’t hard to see someone in crisis when they shuffle into the office looking the way you did. Maybe supernatural powers have nothing to do with her decisions.
You and Sophie continue to chat for a while. She’s not married or seeing anyone. She’s a hair stylist who worked out of a salon in a rather ritzy area of town but has lately been starting to build a clientele who are interested in having a personal stylist. So she’s been doing pretty well as of late. She’s lived here at Lavender Valley for just over a year after Primm took her in after her last job closed unexpectedly and absconded with everyone’s pay and back pay. She wasn’t kidding when she said she’s “been there”.
It was just past midnight and all but one of the cans of wine were drunk when she finally pushed herself up off the counter and stretched, “Well it’s getting very late and I’ve kept you up way past your bedtime.”
“It’s okay, it’s not like I have work tomorrow!”
She gives a soft chuckle and starts to head toward the door. “I had fun though. You’re not an asshole like I expected. Not like the last guy who lived here. He was a piece of work. I think maybe that’s why I came off the way I did earlier. I shouldn't have done that. I should aim to be more charitable and forgiving and empathic and blah blah blah blah. You get it.
“Oh and by the way, and if you need anything don’t hesitate. Restaurant recommendations, hot gossip, want to chat over more gross girl drinks, whatever. My door is always open. We’re besties now.”
You thank her as you follow her to the door…
1.) Not a Fan of Josh? You didn't get the sense she liked Josh all that much. Maybe it's time to take her up on that hot gossip offer.
2.) Wait…What Happened to The Guy? Ask her what happened to the asshole who used to live here.
3.) Wait…How Many Men Actually Live Here? Josh said that you were the third guy to live here. That seems odd. Ask her why so many women live here and so few men.
2024-12-10 11:26:43 +0000 UTC
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Ryan dips his toe (heels?) into his mom's old life but how long can he resist the allure of Her life?
2024-12-07 09:53:20 +0000 UTC
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(Cunning Roll Failed!)
“Okay, well. It’s your music.” you say.
“What about it?”
You swallow down a small surge of anger before continuing. “Yeah, well it was kind of on the loud side. I could hear it through the walls all last night and just now and you probably weren’t aware how loud it was – “
“I mean, I was aware. I was listening to it.” she flippantly replies.
You preface what comes next with an exasperated chuckle, “Alright, okay. Well I’d appreciate it if you could just turn it down a notch. That’s all and I don’t want to make this a big thing - it’s not - we’re neighbors and I’d rather us able to talk to each other about an issue without getting anyone else involved.”
She stares at you for a few seconds then pushes herself off the wall and struts past you and walks right into your apartment. After fully piecing together what had just happened you rush after her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Her back is to you and she’s standing in the middle of your apartment. She puts her finger up to demand silence. That was the last straw.
“Listen, Mrs. Doesn’t-Introduce-Herself I have been nothing but nice and you have been a colossal bi–”
“--careful.” she snaps, her finger still up commanding your silence. You hold your tongue and wait for her to finish whatever it is she's doing. In the quiet the only sound that can be heard is the distant thudding of the bass of her stereo. She wheels around to face you and says, “It is too loud.”
She strides past you and back into the hall where she calls back, “You’re right.”
You quickly follow after her as she walks into her apartment, leaving the door wide open, but you stop at the threshold. Not sure if she intended you to come in or not. She leans over a massive stereo with towering speakers that are about as large as she is and turns it down. It was far and away from the simple set up that most people would get at a Best Buy.
“Of course it was, why would anyone lie about that?!”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Okay so, thank you.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“So that’s it then? You'll keep it down?"
She moved from her stereo into her kitchen and grabs a drink out of her fridge and takes a slug of it before answering.
“Yep. I’ll keep it down. Thanks for stopping by. You can go.”
She dismissed you. You set your jaw to hold back what you really wanted to say in that instant and managed a passive aggressive smile that emerged more as a wince. You lingered for a second, not wanting to obey her demand but there wasn’t another choice. You stalked back to your apartment seething.
You tried to busy yourself with some YouTube, you made dinner - a slow cooker concoction that was almost Mexican food and attempted to fill out a few more resumes. But you found yourself both too angry and disappointed to focus on much. This place was almost perfect. Almost. You weren’t sure what you had hoped for and you weren’t sure why you thought that it was all going to be great. But you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t let yourself get seduced by the vibe of this place.
For the rest of the evening you tried to busy yourself on your computer and tidying up but hanging out with Josh, even if you were doing something like watching sports, only made you realize how quiet and monotonous your life here had become. You told yourself once you got a job and got back on your feet it’d be different. This was just temporary. Maybe Josh would want to hang out soon? Maybe you should learn a thing or two about sports before then?
You were just getting out of the shower, about 9 at night, when you heard a knock on your door. Getting dressed in a tee shirt and pajama bottoms you looked through the spy hole and saw none other than Rude Neighbor standing there, her back to your door. She held something large under her arm but you couldn’t quite see what it was with the distortion.
You grit your teeth. It took all night to come down from her rudeness and now here she was, just as you were settling in for bed, here to possibly ruin another night. All you wanted was some quiet and to go to sleep…
1.) I Don’t Want to Deal With Her. It’s too late for more of her rude bullshit. Whatever the issue is, it can wait until morning. Ignore her and go to sleep.
2.) See What She Wants But Give Her Some Shit. See what she wants but give her a taste of her own medicine with some of your own rude and standoffishness.
3.) Open The Door, I Guess…See what she wants, but make it clear you are getting ready for bed and not in the mood for more of her BS.
2024-12-05 11:14:56 +0000 UTC
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It was about 2am when the pulsing finally stopped for good. You were a little wound up. You played through a dozen versions of the confrontation that you were going to have tomorrow several becoming arguments which you won’t with scathing insults and dazzling word play. You were the best and by 3 am you fell into a restless anxious sleep.
Your alarm went off at around 8am but you slapped snooze a bunch of times and finally got up around 9 something. You didn’t feel great. Either it was the rough night’s sleep or the gut full of pizza and beer you were not accustomed to that did it. You felt sluggish and bloated. A bit of coffee and a super light breakfast was enough to take the edge off the worst of it.
At half past 10 you had settled in behind your laptop to once again spend a few hours writing CVs, follow up emails, and filling out applications again. It had become a painful routine. All the while you were listening intently to any sound from next door. A return of the music, footsteps, a TV…anything. But it was dead quiet. No one must be home.
After a few hours you had enough. You were sore from being crunched over and typing, your eyes were strained and you were still fighting that vaguely sick feeling from the night before so you decided to go for a walk. Hopefully the fresh air and a bit of exercise would clear your head.
The complex was pretty quiet this time of day. You followed the nice paved path that connected the three main apartment buildings around the center court area. It was very well maintained. There were large brick planters filled with dark soil and new flowers that in a few months, when summer really hit, would surely fill it in. There were old oak trees that had been preserved and protected from the construction crews that built this place. The leaves on the massive branches were just beginning to sprout.
The path lead you back behind the complex where the gardens continued. Beyond that you saw the gazebo that Josh must have been talking about. It was a white and Victorian style. With a budding wisteria swallowing almost one whole side with its twisting and curling branches.
The Gazebo sat at the end of the path, on a small hill overlooking both the forest to the west and the small lake to the east. The path split there, one route going around the lake and the other into the forest which you were guessing was a county park and not part of the complex’s grounds.
It was empty but inside were small pink metal tables and matching chairs. There was a delicate flowing floral pattern stamped into the metal. Against one wall was a long deck box that doubled as a padded bench. The thin rafters that crisscrossed in the tall domed ceiling was wrapped with wisteria and come spring and summer you could only imagine clumps of heavy violet flowers filling the space with their scent as the guests below had tea and chatted. It was as if it was a locus of pure femininity.
You hoped maybe you would be asked to join. It might be nice to have some gal pals again.
By the time you got back to your apartment the fresh air had rejuvenated you, and you were feeling better. You got inside, threw your hoodie on the coat hooks by the doors and headed to the only real source of entertainment in your painfully spartan apartment; your computer. You couldn’t wait to get some furniture.
Shortly thereafter your attention was pulled from YouTube when you heard a solitary thud from next door then almost immediately the rhythmic thudding returned but louder this time. What also returned was your annoyance that immediately morphed into anger. You shut your computer, decided there was no time like the present and you went to have that very well practiced confrontation.
You tried your best to have a neutral knock that didn’t reveal the anger was simmering. The door opened a few seconds later and behind it was a blonde woman with a carefully mussed ponytail and fringe and wearing an off-the-shoulder top and skirt combo. Her eyes were piercing and when she saw you she smirked. She braced herself in the doorway, crossing her ankles and drumming her long manicured metallic pink nails on the jamb.
She had to speak a bit louder to be heard over the music. You weren’t sure what it was. It was loud and chaotic. Like the band didn’t quite know how to play their instruments. It was definitely some version of Punk but it wasn’t something you knew at all.
“Oh. You're the new guy.” she says with an exasperated sigh.
“Umm yeah. I am –” you stammer, trying your best to remain pleasant but she cut you off before you could continue, disrupting the spiel you had prepared to kick off this confrontation.
“-- if you’re selling anything - cutlery, vacuums, god - that’s gonna be a hard pass. I have all I need.”
“I-I’m not selling anything I just -"
“-- great! Well Mr. Doesn’t-introduce-himself what do you want then?”
You were reminded of a cat playing with their prey.
1. ) Gently Broach the Subject. You catch more flies with honey, delicately explain that her music was a bit loud and if she could just turn it down a notch in the future it’d be great. (Brains Roll, -10% for Hot Headed Trait)
2.) Who does this chick think she is? High school taught you how to deal with a mean girl or two. She’s giving attitude, you give some right back and tell her to be considerate and turn down the music.
3.) Get in her good graces. Yeah, she might be rude but if you want to get her to turn down the music you need to at least put that aside and cut through the standoffishness. (Cunning roll, -10% for Hot Headed Trait)
2024-11-28 12:42:13 +0000 UTC
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I am currently sitting with 6 pages done and ready to go with 2 to 4ish more left to do before I hit a good stopping point. I wanted to upload last weekend or tonight (Monday the 25th) at the latest but there are two problems for hitting that goal;
1. I want to stick the landing. It's been a long comic and I don't want to biff it so I have added some pages, and I'm currently tweaking the pacing and figuring out how I want to do this. I think I am going to add another page so it doesn't feel as rushed.
2. I learned on Saturday night that I have friends coming into town for Thanksgiving tomorrow. I have also been informed that he will need a place to hide from his conspiracy theorist mother and his kids :)
Between that and it being Thanksgiving this week I am going to work as much as I can to get this done as soon as possible but I know I'm going to be short on time. I'll have to see how this shakes out but the good news is that after this week it gets pretty brutally cold here in the midwest United States and it will be easier for me to justify chaining myself to my drawing desk and finishing not just this section, but all of Mommy Dearest in the coming weeks!
Then comes the next projects which are already being lined up so I can jump right into them.
Just wanted to let everyone know what's up with the next installment. Thanks everyone!
btw I should be able to do the next entry of Lavender Valley without delay.
Also here's a sketch of story idea where a guy gets doused with a chemical that begins a transformation after it was decided he would be better off as one of the neighborhood ladies. No real plans for this story. Just some random morning sketches.
2024-11-26 05:05:09 +0000 UTC
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(Cunning Roll: Success!)
Josh turns his attention back to the game and is quiet for a few seconds before he says, “Damn, you think?”
“Absolutely, and be honest. Women can smell our BS a mile away, but some honest sincerity and vulnerability is everything.” you tell him.
He nods. “Dude, it’s going to be so awkward.”
“Yep, gotta take your lumps if you want a chance to get back in her good graces.”
“Alright so, be honest. I can do that. But I think I’ll leave out, ya know, how weird I was being.”
“That’s probably a good call.”
He takes a swig of beer and takes a second to think. His face is drawn with worry. “What if she hates me?”
The only answer you have for him is a sympathetic look and a shrug. Josh understands and slumps a bit, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
He continues, “whelp, I guess I’ll find out then.”
Josh leans over and yanks his phone out of his pants pocket. He types for a few seconds, pauses to think, and finishes it up. There’s a moment of hesitation before he hits send and sets the phone on the arm of the couch. He takes a long swig of beer, finishing off the can.
“Now, the only thing left to do is second guess sending the tweet all night and calm my upset stomach with pizza and alcohol.” Josh said springing from the couch and heading to the kitchen.
The game ended around 10pm. You had fun, even if it was a fairly “bro-y” kind of hang. The conversation shifted to sports stats you didn’t understand and the accomplishments of players who you didn’t really know. But he was funny enough where it wasn’t torture. The pizza was good and his local beer selection was actually pretty good.
You two bitched about your jobs, you told him about your nightmare of a boss. But you got a high five for storming out like you did. According to Josh more people should have the courage or self destructive urge to just storm out. He told you about his ex-wife and how the marriage collapsed pretty catastrophically as two people two married young grew to want very different things. It was clear he was wounded from everything that happened. But he masked it with jokes and proclamations that he’s moved on to bigger and better things!
You left his place around 11.
“We gotta do this again,” he says as he walks you to the door. “Next week, same time? I’ll pick up burgers. There’s a great little place that sells all these sliders and fries that have truffle oil and garlic and green bits on them that are amazing. How does that sound?”
“That sounds great. I’ll even pick up dinner – “ he cuts you off.
“No. Eff that man. I refuse. Until you get on your feet, dinner is on me. Do not worry about it. You’ll get me back one of these days I know it.”
Social etiquette would have you protest but you really couldn’t afford it and that pizza was a welcome change from the raman and rice and beans you’ve been eating. So you shake his hand and thank him. You start off down the hall toward you apartment and he says,
“I’ll text you and let you know what happens with Andrea.”
“Yeah, totally! Please do!” You say as he gives a final wave and disappears back in his apartment.
The dark and quiet of your apartment is a welcome change from the constant noise of the game and hours of conversation. You have lived by yourself for so long that you got used to your quiet nights. You had fun but your social stamina had taken a hit all those nights in your car when your job consisted of small talk with co-workers and sales pitches on the phone with clients.
You shower, brush your teeth and get into bed. Which at this point is just a mattress on the floor. But at least it’s a mattress. You take a few relaxing breaths, feeling the buzz of alcohol fade more and more as you sobered up, when you begin to feel a dull rhythmic tremor of bass pulsing through the walls which is just loud enough to grab your attention with every beat…
1.) Confrontation. Get up, get dressed and go next door and demand that they turn the music down.
2.) Ignore it. You don’t need to turn this into a whole feud. Introduce yourself tomorrow and mention that their music was a little loud and it was a little late at night. After all, how much longer can it go on?
3.) Don’t make waves. Go get your laptop and stream some nature sounds to drown out the bass. This place is too perfect to start making enemies and becoming a squeaky wheel.
2024-11-23 08:13:07 +0000 UTC
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“What do you mean creeped out?” you ask.
Josh doesn’t respond, taking a few seconds to stare at the game before replying. “Nah, it’s nothing. It’s stupid. Forget I said anything.” He flashes a smile, takes a long swig from his beer and asks, “you ever do any online betting? They make it sound like you’re going to make all this money but I can’t imagine that’s what’s going to happen. House always wins and all that.”
You sense some nervousness. He’s dumped too much but clearly he was eager to talk to someone about what’s been going on. His eyes are fixed on the screen and he’s alternating between smoothing back his short thinning hair and scratching at his short cropped beard. The other hand taps his beer can. His eye flicks over to you to check if you have dropped it so he could blow past this and forget it ever happened. You haven’t. He tries to ignore you but quickly realizes that he’s said too much.
He sets his beer on the coffee table and says “alright. Okay. So this is going to sound crazy and I fully accept that it is. You can judge me, I’d judge me too.
“I move in right and everything is great. Really great. Too great. I mean this place, for the money it’s bonkers.”
You nod in total agreement.
“So a few weeks go by and I get settled in and I’m chatting with some of the neighbor ladies, help them with a few things. You know, being neighborly. And they’re great. No issues.
“There’s this one, Andrea - I dunno if you’ve met her yet - but me and her keep running into each other and we form a kind of report. She’s great. She laughs at my stupid jokes and cracks a few of her own. I think maybe we are starting to like each other. So we start meeting in the garden for tea. There’s like a gazebo on the other side of the complex near the lake with some tables that the ladies like to go to. I hate tea but she likes it so you do what you gotta do.
“We meet for tea, chat, it’s great. Make plans to meet again. I go and this time a few of the other tenets are there. She introduces me and it’s fine. Not optimal for me and her to get to know one another but it’s a good opportunity to meet the other tenants.
"The conversation veers into girl-talk pretty quick so I feel a bit left out but it’s fine. I try to hold my own. Andrea wants to meet up again. Which is great because I was working the nerve to ask her out. In fact I was going to. I hyped myself up in the mirror, gave myself a pep talk, pretended to run up some steps like Rocky while humming Eye of the Tiger. Dude, I was ready. But when the other women were there I pulled the ripcord.
“I can crash and burn with the ladies. I’m great at crashing and burning, one of the best. But I only really want to crash and burn in front of one woman who I can then hide from for the rest of my life and not a large chunk of my neighbors.
“So we meet again, the women are there and there’s more this time. I get introduced to a few more and we have tea and boom girl-talk again. But this time, and this is where it gets weird, so they start talking about cosmetics - make-up and shit. Half an hour in and I’m finding myself sipping this tea, not hating it, and engaged. Like engaged in the conversation about lipstick and foundation and whatever.
“Listen, I’m not one of those guys who are insecure about their masculinity. I mean, I didn’t think I was. But when I caught myself in this conversation there was this sinking feeling. Like on a rollercoaster and I kind of had a panic attack. I don’t know why. I mean who cares? It’s a conversation about make-up, right? A man can’t partake in a conversation about that?
“I mean I didn’t have anything to add but I was caring about what they were caring about and, I don’t know. It just struck me in a particular way. So I get out of there. I told them I had to make a work call and slammed what was left of the tea and just went back to my apartment and locked the door. I locked the door dude. What did I think was going to happen? They’d kick it in and make me talk about mascara some more? It’s so stupid.
“So Andrea texts me a few times after that. I don’t reply. I can’t. That panic comes back every time. It’s stupid! I know it’s stupid! Two days later I have to get my mail and I run into her. Or she was waiting for me. I don’t know. She wants to know where I’ve been. I make up something about work being a nightmare and I’m sorry and something was wrong with my phone and the texts weren’t sending for some reason and I know that she knows it’s all bullshit. I can’t even look her in the eyes.
“I’m being a total pussy and by all rights she should call me an asshole and storm off but she doesn’t. She’s all empathetic. She invites me to the gazebo to chat and relax. Have some tea, ya know. She says all the ladies are going to be there and they’ve been concerned and wondering where I’ve been and they thought I was funny and dude, I was so close to going. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I think I wanted to. But I was terrified.
“I’m not scared of women! I was married for god sakes. There are plenty of women at work that I’m work-friends with. We go out to eat and it’s a similar kind of thing and I’ve never, ever felt terrified. I don’t know what the hell it is about this place and these women. It’s literally no different.
“That was the last time I talked to Andrea. I’ve avoided her ever since. I changed my hours at work so I can pick up my mail while she’s still at work. I don’t really go out for walks or jogs around the complex anymore. I still have this pit in my stomach and I don’t know why. I try my best to avoid the other women. I’m like haunted by what is a completely normal conversation.
“Sometimes, I wake up at night and I swear I’m catching a whiff of this floral perfume. I know you must have smelled it by now. But it’s like this trigger or something where I’m back to feeling how I did that day in the gazebo. It’s in my head, I have these dreams of like where I’m not me and I wake up feeling just weird. You can tell me I’m crazy now. I can handle it.”
Something happened in the game and for a moment all you could hear was a cheering crowd and pulsing rock music and announcers yammering over one another. The commotion wasn’t enough to retake Josh’s attention. You could make out a kind of pleading in his eyes that he needed some validation that he wasn’t crazy. Trouble was…he was acting kind of crazy.
You’re no stranger to being the only dude in a group. You remember battling with your insecurity over the years. The first time being when your friends insisted on dressing you up for Halloween. At the time it was humiliating and demeaning but that was just your own perspective. You’d eventually learn it wasn’t an attack. It was them sharing with you something they liked the only way they knew how and accepting you into their inner circle.
You consider your words for a moment, not wanting to offend him but he’s clearly waiting for a response.
1.) “If I am being honest, it kind of sounds like they were being really nice. And I get it; I’ve spent my life as the only guy in groups of girls and it’s easy to feel like the odd one out. But if Andrea is introducing you to her friends I think she might really like you and is probably hurt that you are, basically, ghosting her. Maybe you should reach out to her again even if it’s just to apologize?” (Cunning Roll to encourage him to reconnect with Andrea)
2.) “I don’t know man. That’s kind of a crazy story. I…I don’t know what to make of it. I’ve been the only guy in a group of girls plenty of times and been the odd one out when they start talking about something that isn’t in my wheelhouse but panic? I haven’t really talked to anyone here yet so I can’t really say - wait. What about that guy you mentioned chatting with a couple of times in the carport. What about talking to him and seeing if maybe he’s picking up the same weird vibes?”
3.) “If I am being honest, that’s crazy. They were just talking about make-up? Listen, I don’t know you super well but you seem cool but like you were in a group of women, they were chatting about their interests, and you got scared and ran away and stopped talking to them entirely and won’t even make eye contact? You have to admit, that’s a pretty unhinged response. I mean think of it this way, they were just being them and weren’t excluding you or treating you like an outsider. Right?” (Brains Roll to convince Josh he was overreacting)
2024-11-18 00:27:02 +0000 UTC
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“Oh jeeze. One of those guys eh’? Well you must fit in great around here then” Josh says as he scrounge around in his fridge. “Think fast!”
A can rockets in your hands. You already winced, expecting the worst, before you realize you actually caught it! (Coordination Roll: Success) Although stunned, you play it cool. Hoping Josh will respect your latent sporting acumen and not see it for the freak feat of accidental athleticism it was. You take a seat on one end of his couch and start tapping the can to calm the agitated carbonation. “Yeah, I suppose I do. Hopefully.”
It takes a few seconds for what he said to fully process. “Wait, what do you mean?” you ask.
Josh comes back around from the fridge cracking his beer. It foams up and almost spills over but he manages to slurp the excess.
“What do you mean, what do you mean? You really haven’t noticed?”
Josh flops down on the other end of the couch. You shake your head “no”.
“Seriously?” Josh asks again, amused. When he sees you’re not kidding he shakes his head and chuckles, “Dude. We’re the only men here.”
Now that he mentions it you haven’t noticed any other men in the complex though you have been pretty distracted the past few days.
“That can’t be true. There’s gotta be a few others. Maybe in the other wings?”
Josh shakes his head no. “I’ve looked. Trust me. Shortly after I moved in here I met some of the neighbors, all women. Every so often there are these tenants get-togethers in the courtyard gardens, no men ever attend. Once I got wise to it I was on the lookout. No boyfriends or husbands or gay best friends or anything. It’s a total clam bake every time. There was one dude who I talked to once or twice in the carport I never see anymore. I still see his car sometimes but never him.
“But I know what you’re thinking; that’s awesome right? Surrounded by tons of chicks with no boyfriends or husbands? That is great for us!. We’re going to get laid all the time. Nope. I’ve tried and there’s no way in and I seriously doubt they’re all lesbians. And granted, I’m not the best looking dude in the world but I’ve got some charm. I learned to be funny to make up for the travesty you see before you so I can do alright with the ladies. But not these ladies. It’s weird - oh what was that? What’d I miss?!”
His attention was suddenly on the game. Something happened and the crowd went wild. You weren’t sure why though. But you played along, watching the screen and pretending like you understand sports. Once the commotion died down you found a lull to ask, “What do you mean weird?”
His eyes never left the screen. “I don’t know. Weird. You know, weird.” After a beat he must have realized he wasn’t making much sense. “Weird like…I don’t know. Like something is going on and you are on the outside and you will always be on the outside. It’s like, when you were a kid did you ever get excluded from a group or a club or something? It’s like that.” He hesitates then says, “if I’m being honest the longer I live here the more I begin to feel creeped out. I know, it’s stupid.”
1.) Don’t Make Waves. Best not to press him. You don’t know what he’s said and without talking to any of the women about it you’re only getting one side of the story. Let the topic drop and just enjoy the hang.
2.) Just One of the Girls. You don’t know Josh very well yet but you might be getting some dude-bro vibes that are repellent to women. You’ve had enough friends tell you of the awful encounters they’ve had with guys like this. You think maybe you should give him some insight that a lot of dude-bro’s don’t usually know.
3.) A Mystery is Afoot! Everything he’s saying is super weird and you’ve got to know more.
2024-11-13 08:43:09 +0000 UTC
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I'm a bad person. I can't get the new section out this week. I am aiming for next week but life is definitely getting in the way. I'm finally shaking off the last of this cold, last week here in America it was chaos, and next week I might need to head out of town for a few days.
What I will say is that it is half done and I am super happy with the pages. Also to quote Doctor Stephen Strange, "We're in the endgame now" and I don't want to rush and I don't want to biff it especially this close to the finish line with something I am actually super happy with.
Because coming up are 2 more projects which are commissions (and much shorter) and I am starting to think what out my next original story to come after Mommy Dearest.
Any requests to theme? Another cougar/milf? Are bimbos over done? Are we over bimbos?
2024-11-10 12:19:12 +0000 UTC
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Josh’s apartment was a dude’s oasis in a desert of femininity. You thought it might just have been yours but apparently all the apartments were painted a very faint pink with a darker almost rosy color of trim and molding. The kitchens were white with hinges and hardware inlaid with delicate flowers and winding vines. The bathrooms had a large vanity and those makeup mirrors rimmed by lightbulbs.
But Josh wasn’t content with living amongst all the estrogen inducing furnishings. He had two shadow boxes on the wall with signed jerseys above his well used brown leather couch. Which faced a TV far too large for the space and a soundbar big enough to rattle windows in the next county over.
“Come in! Come in! Welcome to Casa de Josh. Make yourself at home!” he said with a bright smile and guiding you in with the hand not holding the beer.
There were a few pairs of shoes, one dirty pair of hiking boots and some office loafers kicked into a pile the moment he got home. The living room rug was wrinkled from when he pushed his scuffed coffee table which was marred with the rings of hundred sweaty cans and had some old paperwork and mail.
“You can drop your jacket on the very expensive coat rack,” he said as he gestured toward a treadmill near the door. There were already several coats and hoodies draped over it.
“We got pizza staying warm in the oven. I didn’t know what you liked so I got a few. Except for pineapple, naturally. Got some beer. I got a case of the cheap stuff that gets the job done but - are you a beer guy? There’s some great small label brands out there from microbreweries upstate. A few years ago my buddies and I did a whole bachelor party tour and hit up all these super trendy spots. They were great. I thought I’d hate it because of the pretentious beer guys who all look like they play in Mumford and Sons but they were cool. But yeah, I got some of those in there. A sampling that you’re more than welcome to ” he said as he made his way to the kitchen and started rooting around in his fridge.
“I also got the streaming sports package. So we got the Rockets game and the Celtics are up against the Bucks. I’m not really a Celtics fan but my dad is so I keep up with it. You know. If you’d rather watch football I’d be down for that but I’m mostly a basketball guy. Ever since Jordan was with the Bulls in the 90’s. So what about you? Who’s your team?”
----------------
1. ) The Sporting Life. “Dude, my older brother was all about the Jordan era. Had the jerseys and I remember him driving my parents up the wall begging for these inflatable shoes that he swore would make him able to dunk. They were happy my sport was baseball. Played through high school, and got good enough to get into college on a partial scholarship but two years in I tore my meniscus and, well, yeah that was that.”
2.) Gods of Rock. “Sports was never my thing. My brother was the super fan in the family and it drove my parents nuts. He was obsessed. Nah, my friends and I found music. We were the kids in middle school with the long dirty hair and hand-me-down Nirvana shirts badly playing every track off Superunknown in my buddy Dougie’s gross basement. We were going to be the next grunge superstars. Problem was it was the 2000’s at that point and let’s just say the crowds weren’t flocking to see some amateurs in a piss water bar. Then someone gets a girlfriend, someone else gets a job, practice goes from 4 nights a week to 2 to 3 then once a month then…yeah. Life gets in the way. But hey, it was fun while it lasted.”
3.) Ladies Man. “I gotta confess. I’m not the biggest sports fan in the world. My brother got all the “dude genes” and was into all that. He and his friends were nuts for all that. Growing up I was that dude who had girlfriends, as in girls who were friends. Sports wasn’t a hot topic in that crowd. But hey, if you want to know outdated celebrity gossip I am tragically an encyclopedia about all things Brangelina or Bennifer or whatever I can also paint a mean toenail if push comes to shove.”
2024-11-10 12:13:09 +0000 UTC
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Stunned, you got up let him shepherd you to the door as he shrugged on his blazer. You would have just walked on through had he not shot you an impatient little flip of the hand and a flaring of his eyes behind his thick designer frames.
Something in you snapped.
“You know what Mr. Harmon, every week we put up with your absolute nonsense because most of the time you’re just a nuisance. You’re just this irritating thing we have to deal with so we can get paid. But…but…jesus. Get fucked you fucking ghoul!”
You were in the parking lot before the heat faded from your ears and you could think again. Your phone was already buzzing with Harmon sending a volley of texts. You were positive what they said. Harmon would never put up with insubordination, his insecure and tenuous hold on his moderate amount of power wouldn’t let him.
You got in your car/home and threw your phone on the passenger seat. Wasting no time you zipped out of the parking lot with a squeal of the tires and put that horrible boss and that horrible office behind you.
It was going to be okay. It was going to be okay.
Breathe.
You drove for a few hours, leaving the city for some fresh air and some quiet. Your blood was still boiling and you just needed the evening to think. You stopped in a roadside park, forced down a fast food burger and made a plan. You told yourself tomorrow you’d find a place, any place, and it would be temporary. Just until you got a new job. This was just a minor setback. It was going to be okay.
Absurd security deposits, no-show landlords, exorbitant rent, and run down slums were all you could find. You crisscrossed the city going from place to place, touring one roach infested hell to the next. You had a kink in your back from sleeping in your car and it was preferable to the places you were looking at. Then, after two excruciatingly long months, you finally had a little bit of luck.
Lavender Valley was absolutely perfect. It was a quiet little complex just outside the city, with a wooded park on one side and lake access on the other. It was close enough to the highway so a commute wouldn’t be too bad but far enough away to feel like you were almost in the country. There were no roaches, the security deposit wasn’t crazy, the rent was reasonable and the pipes looked intact.
You were sure you weren’t going to get the place but desperation and maybe a lingering scrap of hope made you throw yourself into rejection again.
Maybe you were getting to like the abuse?
Instead of the polite but terse rejection the pleasant and bubbly apartment manager, Mrs. Primm was pleased she could help you get back on your feet. She said she had a good feeling about you as she handed you the keys to your new apartment. No follow up questions. No references needed. No wild conditions tacked on at the end. She seemed genuinely happy to help.
You could have cried and not just from the rather intense scent of her perfume.
You shut the door into your apartment and exhaled for the first time in what felt like years. You had no furniture, no bed except an air mattress, and only a few bags that had been bouncing around your car but you had a kitchen, a bathroom and two bedrooms. And enough rent to stay here for two months before it got to be a problem.
A few days later…
The mail comes around three in the afternoon. By then you’ve had breakfast and lunch and did your few hours of job searching. There weren't any bites yet but you had hope a few of those would respond. Then you went downstairs to get your mail.
Every inch of Lavender Valley was immaculately kept up and designed. From the pink lilies growing in the vestibules of the complex wings to the vintage looking padded benches that made up common areas. The walls were painted a soft salmon, the floors a white faux marble Greecian pattern and all the doors to the apartments were a rich purple color.
“Woah, woah, woah,” the man said as you came down the stairs. He was already at the mailboxes having just collected his haul. He had a wide smile on his oddly round face and looked at you with a strange kind of wonderment that didn’t fade as you approached.
“Do my eyes deceive me? Is there actually another dude living here? I’m not the only one living here?”
He set his mail down and extended his hand excitedly, “Hey man, I’m Josh down in B17. You must be the new tenant the women were all gossipin’ about. How are you? How are you liking the place? You settling in alright?”
You shake his hand, introduce yourself and say you’re settling in great. The two of you have a nice chat down at the mailboxes. You learn that he sells accounting software, he’s single, around your age and he’s kind of a nut for sports and he just moved in from out of state. He’s funny and boisterous. The kind of guy who laughs at his own jokes and will slap you in the arm to punctuate a punchline. After a few minutes of chit chat he says,
“Listen, I gotta jump but if you’re not doing anything later you want to swing by for the game? I’ll grab some beer and pizza? Eh? Sounds pretty good right?”
1.) Take him up on his offer and head over to watch the game with him later on.
2. ) He’s a lot to handle right now. Rain check. Tell him you have some things you have to do. Maybe next time?
2024-11-07 11:42:15 +0000 UTC
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It had been a brutal month and a half.
It all began when most of your stuff was destroyed when a pipe burst flooded the run-down basement apartment you were renting. It got worse when the slimeball landlord refused to replace any of your stuff claiming he wasn’t at fault.. Which was just what your insurance company wanted to hear so they could weasel out of covering any damages. You learned that renters insurance doesn’t cover flooding. You were suddenly faced with one of two options; let it go or spend what little money you had to fight it in court.
To make matters worse, it wasn't technically a legal apartment you were renting. Which became news to you when the sheriff evicted you and claimed you had been “squatting”.
For a month you searched for a new place to rent but everything was too expensive or too far away from your job. Couch surfing was becoming a pain in the ass. Literally. There’s only so many nights you can sleep on an air mattress or a couch before you before the aching catches up with you. Besides, you hated being an imposition. You needed to find your own place but everything was so goddamn expensive.
It was all too much, the stress was getting to you. You know you were making mistakes. You know you were irritable but nothing was easing the stress.
Then last Friday, just before you could slip out of work your boss, Mr. Harmon intercepted you and dragged you into his office. He explained that your numbers were down, you were taking too-long of lunch and using company computers for “personal endeavors” which is allowed but “still frowned upon”. There was an HR complaint when you snapped at Geoffrey for eating your lunch, again, out of the fridge.
You explained what was going on. It was nice to have somewhere there to get it off your chest. Even though…
Mr. Harmon was never a super personable guy. He was a detached kind of middle manager who would do his rounds making the same small talk every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Calling his employees champ and sport and ace as he asked, “did you see the game”. Whether or not there was one. It was like he was grown in some corporate lab to be the most bland corporate automaton he could be but you never expected what came next.
He didn’t care.
He ‘mmm hmmm’ed you as you listed your problems. His timing was off. He was beginning that compassionate grunt a half second too early, tripping over where he thought the end of your sentence was. Then the moment there was a break, he looked up from the stack of forms he busied himself with as you unloaded and launched into a lecture he had locked and loaded.
It began with how the whole “family” was counting on you. That you were part of a team and somewhere toward the end it turned into a lecture about when you come to work you need to leave your problems at the door. He expressed some regret in having to have this conversation but told you you could avoid being written up and facing disciplinary actions if you get your numbers up by the end of next week.
He punctuated his lecture with a dispassionate, “I know you can do this, Champ. You just need to get your priorities straight. Good talk, I gotta go take the wife out for dinner so…” He stood up and gestured for you to get out of his office. Conversation was over.
You were stunned by the callousness and in that moment you had to make a choice…
1. Tell your boss exactly what you think of him (Gain a new Trait: Hot Head)
2. Take it on the chin and live to fight another day. (Gain a new Trait: Even Tempered)
3. Quit right then and there.
2024-11-04 10:45:05 +0000 UTC
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Hey hey everyone,
I mentioned in a previous post that I wanted to write a TG story in parts and I wanted it to have some kind of interactive element but I wasn't exactly sure how I wanted to do it. I think I've figured it out.
Coming in the next few days I want to start this story and there will be sections posted and it will end with a number of options. Those options will be like the super old text-based RPGs of like the Windows 3.1 days like if anyone is old enough to remember that.
My hope is for anyone who reads it they'll comment with which number they want to see next and whichever options have the most interest I'll advance the story with that choice in mind.
I have this idea I want to work on a bit that's a kind of fast and dirty character sheet. The rough idea is to have like 3 stats that represent mental resistance to the change or perception or something. I'm going to divvy up 100points (or get input from everyone) across these stats and I'll roll a d100 when one of those conflict options come up.
Hopefully it'll be fun! At the very least we get a TG story with some art here and there. How does that sound?
Also, I wanted to have a new installment of Mommy Dearest but I have had an obnoxious couple of weeks that began with getting stranded up north for a few days after hitting a deer and needing to repair my car to now being sick with something. It's super annoying. So I am hoping I can get it out next week. I'll keep you guys updated!
2024-11-01 09:27:06 +0000 UTC
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Ryan has a moment of clarity.
2024-10-14 09:20:22 +0000 UTC
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A while back I had a plan to do a TG play by post game but there were a few logistical problems that I kept running into but I did want to do some writing TG writing. Especially if I end up taking on some commissions when Mommy Dearest (next part coming next weekend) comes to an end.
So in the next day or so I think I am going to do a story, told in the second person, that ends with a series of options on where the story will go or what you want your character to do.
My plan is to post the part of the story and end with numbered options and if you guys want to vote for which path you want to go that will tell me what to write for the next part. I'm thinking I'll illustrate some parts of it as well.
What do you guys think?
2024-10-05 10:54:53 +0000 UTC
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Hey everyone, I just wanted to write a thing and say two things.
The first is the new sketch I uploaded. I have drawn these things for years as a way to organize thoughts for TG/TF stories I never really got around to doing. I thought I'd upload one with a very rough outline of an idea I've been kicking around that may become a more finished and lengthier comic like Mommy Dearest one day.
I consider this a "movie trailer" almost. If I were to do a larger story I'd no doubt take that general idea and change it, expand on it, change the transformation, characters, etc. This is a rough draft that basically came off the top of my head.
Alright so where is Mommy Dearest?
Great question, me. So I started in on the next part of Mommy Dearest when I realized I was charging forward into what was gonna be a storytelling nightmare. So I had to do a bit of a rewrite and reorientation. Work will continue on it and my goal is that the next update will be the next part of Mommy Dearest which I think will be worth the wait.
But I did want to put up this sketch as a kind of appetizer.
Let me know if you want me to do more of these from time to time. Does it work? Does it feel like it moves too fast? Do you guys like that it moved fast and got right to the point?
Maybe even, with sequences that length I could even do some inks and colors. Wild. I know.
Thanks everyone!
2024-09-15 02:37:08 +0000 UTC
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Better or worse than an HOA? Hmm?
(This is the first in a sketch series of short TG/TF comics)
2024-09-15 02:28:30 +0000 UTC
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Ryan wakes up a day after giving into Charlotte in a weird place. But he gets a bit of good news that he hopes will solve this very weird chapter in his life.
2024-08-17 09:12:22 +0000 UTC
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There are a few projects I'd love to do that are lengthy. Drawing them as comics would take months if not years. Even with the style I am doing Mommy Dearest.
I've been thinking of just writing a story and peppering in some illustrations here and there. Nothing is confirmed. Just some thoughts I had about adding in some content diversity here on the page. These would be in addition to, releasing a chapter every month or so, the usual comics. If people though would much rather just see the comics I'll stick to those.
Also, and here's an oddball idea I had but I like to do a lot of play by post TTRPGs. I had an idea a while back to modify a Powered by the Apocalypse game to be TF or TG based. I'm considering starting a TG based game where the players would be "victims" of a transformation. The whole game would be posted here here or in a Discord and available to read for everyone.
Like I said, these are just some ideas I've been kicking around so I thought I'd make a post and get a temperature check.
Thanks everyone!
2024-07-28 20:27:48 +0000 UTC
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I am pleased to report that all my rather exhausting obligations are mostly in the rearview. I have a part time job that makes me end up working fully time (still trying to figure out that math) for a few weeks in the summer.
So now, I am looking forward to jumping back into Mommy Dearest. I did however scrape together some time to finalize the script. We have an ending. We have a solid direction and I'm excited to get working on it.
After that I have a fun commission waiting that I want to get started on as well as finishing up an inked piece that has been begging to be finished for too long. There are a few things in the pipeline!
2024-07-20 04:26:05 +0000 UTC
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2024-07-20 04:19:10 +0000 UTC
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Ryan, now wanting to go by Charlotte, has an over due conversation with Marc.
2024-07-01 06:45:05 +0000 UTC
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The next part of Mommy Dearest is still a work in progress so I thought now is a great time for me to upload an old commission, from waaaaaaay back in 2016 from Thrandrall.
2024-06-21 21:00:04 +0000 UTC
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Marc makes a tough decision and so did Ryan.
(This is a little micro update. The next part I don't want to interrupt and it might be a few pages. We'll see after a second edit pass. But I wanted to get this up regardless.)
2024-05-25 08:46:32 +0000 UTC
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Marc struggles with the consequences of Ryan's spell as Ryan struggles with a new, more intense recurrence of that strange tingle...
2024-05-01 06:48:24 +0000 UTC
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Maybe Mrs. Campbell is onto something. Maybe he can enjoy it. You know, just until she finds a way to reverse it...
2024-03-31 09:46:32 +0000 UTC
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