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Darktober 10

"... I was running. It was dark. So dark. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds. It was cold - SO cold.

I was running through a forest, branches and leaves tearing at my hair and clothes, my feet slipping on rough, rocky earth.

I was running from some...thing? One? I don't know. I was absolutely terrified. I was running for my life.

Suddenly, I was out of the woods. I was running up a hill -

No, a cliff.

Wait. No.

Widow's Hill.

I was on top of Widow's Hill.

I stopped at the edge, looking down at the ocean below, beating mercilessly against the craggy cliffside.

I was trapped.

A voice screamed behind me - a male voice, enraged, desperate, utterly raw. I turned to look -

And slipped.

I could still hear the screaming as I fell, plunging into the ice-cold ocean.

And then I woke up."

Darktober 9

"September 12, 2019

My name is Victoria Winters.

I don't usually remember any of my dreams. But I can't forget this one."

Darktober 8

"... The attic room is, as Mz. Collins promised, very comfortable. It might just be the most comfortable room I've ever slept in, actually.

Granted, my basis for comparison is negligible, to say the least. But I dare anyone to say a big bed, fresh sheets and blankets, a clean new rug and a view of the ocean isn't cozy.

Of course, I'm writing all this as I'm struggling to fall asleep in this wonderfully comfy, fresh-smelling bed with the window looking out over the ocean beside me.

The attic doesn't scare me. Old rooms, new places, living with strangers, none of that has scared me since... I don't actually remember a time when I was ever scared of those things.

No, there's something else. I can't say what it is, exactly. It feels like... There's something waiting. A person, an event, I don't know. But there's a sense of hiding, waiting, in the air. And if I blink, much less fall asleep, I'm going to miss it.

Or it's going to get me."

Darktober 7

"... Mz. Collins (she rather coolly corrected me when I called her Mrs. Stoddard-Collins) told me I'd be living up on the third floor, in the "attic room". "I hope that's acceptable," she said, "the name is a bit ominous, I know, but I promise it's comfortable."

"I don't mind! It sounds lovely." I said, very sincerely. After all the shared bedrooms, rundown houses and sketchy, cheap studio apartments I've lived in (and also shared), a spooky attic sounded rather wholesome.

Right then, we all heard the sound of old hinges creaking as the double doors were cracked open.

"Oh, there you are! I was just about to mention you." Mz. Collins said. She was smiling, but there was concern furrowing her brow. "Victoria, this is David. David, this is Victoria Winters, your new tutor. She'll start teaching you on Monday."

I turned, ready to greet the wide-eyed little boy I'd been told I was going to teach (and nanny, but I noticed that Mz. Collins had left that part out). Instead, I met a pair of large, glinting brown eyes that stared at me unblinkingly - not filled with nervousness at meeting a stranger, but genuine, decidedly violent hostility. His wild blonde hair was tangled and full of leaves and twigs, his clothes covered in dust and dirt, torn in a few places. Clearly, he'd been running wild in the woods all day. How appropriate, given how much he reminded me of trickster fairies from European mythology - the ones who are just as likely to stab you as help you.

"Hi, David." I said, pasting a well-trained friendly smile on my face. "It's nice to meet you."

He stayed silent. If anything, his expression became even more hostile.

"David." Mz. Collins spoke quietly behind me. "Say hello, at least."

David's mouth twisted slightly, and he looked down at his shoes. He clearly wasn't happy to meet me, but he wasn't going to say no to his aunt. "Hi." he muttered, word barely perceptible. And with that, he disappeared, running up the stairs in the foyer.

Mz. Collins sighed. "David is a good boy." she said. "I promise."

Darktober 6

"... Bridget led me away from the big grand entry at the front of the mansion, to a smaller section around the back by the garage, with a very nice but significantly less grandiose entry door. "Guest house, originally," Bridget told me. "Mrs. Elizabeth likes it better here than in the main house. Can't say I blame her." She rang an old-fashioned bell by the doorway. I heard a distant "Come in!" from inside. Bridget obliged, and I followed.

We came into a little entry room (I think they call it a foyer?), paved with old tile covered with a large and covertly weatherproof rug. There was an old stairway on one side, and a large set of wooden double doors in the wall facing the entry. Lining the walls were portraits - portraits of the Collins family, I can only assume. Some were newer, clearly from the last century, and others were far, far older. They all shared the same dark hair and eyes (with only one or two exceptions), and a general air of grave regality - like they were going off to war right after their portrait sitting or something. It was so strange to just casually walk near them like they were just everyday house decorations, and not original historical pieces of art that belonged at the Louvre.

Bridget left my suitcase at the stairway, going to knock on the double doors.

"For heaven's sake, Bridget, why are you being so polite? Come barge in like you always do, you're giving the poor girl strange ideas about us."

Bridget grinned, opening the door.

Behind them lay a disarmingly cozy living-room. It looked nothing like the rest of the house, except for the stonework floors. Plush rugs, old but cushy-looking furniture, modern family photos now occupying wall space instead of regally painted portraits. At the center of it all was a large fireplace with a carved mantle, and before the fireplace...

....stood a woman. A petite, dark-haired woman, wearing plain, comfortable clothes, holding a steaming mug of bergamot tea that filled the room with its bright scent. She looked to be somewhere in her mid-forties, lines creasing her tanned face, eyes a deep, cool green. She was a good foot shorter than me, but there was something in the way she held herself as she turned to look at me with those calm, cool eyes that made me immediately stand up as straight as I could, ready to obey orders, listen to every word she had to say.

She locked eyes with me, and her cool expression immediately cracked into the sweetest, warmest smile I had ever seen. "Welcome to Collinwood, Victoria." she said. "I'm so glad you're here. I'm Elizabeth Collins."

Darktober 5

"Collinwood is nothing like I expected either. I read "estate" and "mansion" and I honestly pictured those giant modern McMansion monstrosities rich people are building all the time.

Collinwood is nothing like that. This place *is* huge, but it's huge in the way ancient castles are huge - like there was an actual purpose for all that space when it was built. There's the servant's quarters, the stables, the carriage house, the BALLROOM, everything a rich old European colonial family needed. Well. "Needed".

"We don't use even half of this place" Bridget said, sighing. "Too much work, not enough people. We only live in this little part over here these days." She nodded towards the sixth of the house we were approaching.

"What about the rest of the house?" I asked.

"Empty. Some places..." she glanced over at the unoccupied sections of the mansion.

It's strange, how welcoming the tiny little part of the house that was lit up looked, and how dark and definitely haunted the rest of the same house looked.

"Some places in this house haven't seen a human in centuries." Bridget said."

Darktober 4 (CW: mention of s**cide)

“I met the housekeeper - Bridget - at the train station parking lot. She was a lot nicer and more…well, okay, fine, I’ll say it, *pretty* than I was expecting. Look, I’m a poor college student from Maine raised on Disney movies, what else could I be expecting? Housekeepers aren’t exactly a common sight in the modern American household.

Anyway, she was very very nice - wouldn’t let me touch my lone suitcase after we met in the parking lot and talked the whole way to Collinwood about the family, the town, the weather - absolutely everything about the estate and the land/people around it. And I was happy to listen. It was nice to get a rundown of the place I’ll be living in for the next six months. And she was a really good storyteller to boot. When we finally pulled into the gigantic old driveway of Collinwood, I noticed a particularly prominent hill protruding from the cliffs overlooking the sea - Bridget saw me look, and said, in the most casual way, “That’s Widow’s Hill. Blocked off from the estate long ago, but that doesn’t stop the local daredevils from climbing up there and making a ruckus on Halloween every year.”

“Why’s it called Widow’s Hill?” I asked. Bridget smiled - a small, sad kind of smile. All the humor was suddenly gone.

“Long ago, sailor’s wives would come up to that hill every day to watch for their husbands’ ships. It’s the highest point with a view here. Story goes, some of those poor women threw themselves off the cliff when they found out their husbands had died at sea.” Her expression changed again, as she seemed to shake herself and look at me directly, smile warm and welcoming again. “Lots of people have come and gone here. Doubt I’d like to be remembered that way.”

And with that, she walked towards the house, my suitcase rolling behind her.”

Darktober 3

"September 11, 2019

My name is Victoria Winters.

Praise be to the gods, universe, and everything, I have made it to Collinwood (separate from Collinsport, apparently!) intact. Turns out the job offer was legitimate after all and I don't have to worry about kidnapping. Yet.

It's strange. I've never felt so... unsettled, before. Growing up in the foster system, "unsettled" was just my default. I never "settled" anywhere, so how could I feel "unsettled"? But here..."

Darktober 2

"... I took this job against everyone's advice, and my own better judgment. I need money for my last semester, sure, but I've been in far worse places financially without having to resort to taking live-in nanny jobs in sketchy, remote towns I've never heard of.

This is not out of necessity, though.

Well. Not financial necessity, anyway."

"September 10, 2019

My name is Victoria Winters.

I'm on my way. A few hours by train from Bangor to Collinsport. Then pickup at the train station by the housekeeper, whom I've never met and who has never met me. Sure hope I don't get kidnapped....

This place seems nice, so far. Lots of trees, and rocks, and rain. Not so different from Boston, really. I haven't heard from Mrs. Collins-Stoddard since she sent my itinerary - I'm going to be optimistic and say she's just waiting for me to arrive, and this isn't a Taken situation.

This is a bad idea. I know this is a bad idea. But that feeling is still there. There's something important about Collinsport. Something to do with my history, where I came from. The draw I feel to this town I've never heard of before is stronger than my common sense, I guess. I hope it's enough to keep me safe."

************************************

A day late, but that's okay! For the month of October, I'm gonna be doing 1 small, QUICK illustration a day for a very short and spooky story I wrote. 🙃 It's a fanfic, modern day re-imagining of the first part of Dark Shadows, the horror-themed Gothic soap opera that originally aired in the 1960s that I've been low-key obsessed with for a few years. It's Darktober! Hope you enjoy.

There is hope. I promise. Young people just won their case against the state of Montana. Ecuadoreans braved escalating political violence to vote against oil drilling in the Amazon. Brazilian deforestation is down by enormous amounts since Lula took office. They’ve invented hydropanels that synthesise pure water from the air. People are farming in solar parks. A ship just launched for its maiden voyage using rigid sails designed to mimic wind turbine blades. EV sales are taking off, and, more crucially, cities are re-assessing their very relationship with the car. By the 2024 Olympics the river Seine will be safe for people to swim in again. More and more people are replacing their gas boilers with heat pumps. Solarpunks are growing crops in their back garden and distributing them to their neighbours. Great tracts of land are being given back to nature. Young people are channelling their energies into meaningful careers. Pilots are leaving the aviation industry. Yes, the world is dark and terrible and full of awful dangers that keep you up at night, but we are a huge movement that grows every day in numbers and power. Your small actions matter. Our collective triumphs are increasing. Things are going to get harder, extreme weather will be more common, but with ingenuity, resilience and crucially, COMMUNITY, we can build an equitable world on this strange, tired old planet. See you in the future.

As summer starts to wind down, I think we could all use a nice little souvenir from the season to help get us through the winter months. My own summer memories are very peach-centered, as I remember getting excited as a kid for the peaches to ripen on our little peach tree at home, grown from a tough lil peach pit someone threw away by our garage. This print is 100% available as both a piece of wall art AND a card over on my INPRNT shop! Click those words to check it out and help me pay for ice cream (and groceries/rent/student loan debt) if you are able and you like my work! I'm juggling a PhD program and arting, so all support is most welcome.

Also I am gonna be getting ready for autumn and All Hallow's Eve pretty soon, so if y'all are into that.... keep checking back!

From a year ago, during that time I was by myself in Scotland taking care of a puppy and two cats and suddenly got super sick, but didn't know it was COVID until I turned over on my bed and realized that there was a giant pile of dog poop right there by my mattress and I could not smell it. I did not regain my sense of smell or taste for roughly two months. Not as bad as others have experienced, but not fun. I couldn't even enjoy my beloved Ben&Jerry's.

If you’re an adult, do the stuff you couldn’t as a kid.

Like, me and my sister went to a museum, and they had an extra exhibit of butterflies. But it cost £3. So we sighed, walked past, then stopped. We each had £3. We could see the butterflies. And we did it was great. We followed it up with an ice-cream as well because Mum and Dad weren’t there to say no.

I was driving back from a work trip with 2 other people in their early 20s, and we drove past a MacDonalds. One of the others went “Aww man, I’d love a McFlurry.” And the guy driving pulled in to the drive through. It was wild. But it was great.

I went to a park over the weekend and I was thinking “Man, I’d love to hire one of those bikes and cycle round the park.” It took me a few minutes to go “Wait, I can hire one of those bikes!”

I guess what I’m saying is, those impulsive things you wanted to do as a kid - see the dinosaur exhibit, play in the fountains with the other kids, lie in the shade for 2 hours - you can do when you’re an adult. You have to deal with a whole lot of other bull, but at least you can indulge your inner 8 year-old.

Interested in going full cottage core? Here's some stuff you need to expect (from a hobbit-lookin' gal who grew up in the woods):

1) dead animals. Dead rodents, specifically. No matter how well you clean, the mice and rats will come. And your cat will find them. And they will bring their bloodied corpses to you and expect praise. If you do not have cats (which automatically disqualifies you from being cottage core, sorry I don't make the rules), small furry creatures will find other ways to die inside your house. You will find them in your attic. You will find them in your drawers. You will find them under your bed. They are most definitely inside your walls. You may not know it, but you definitely have a wall full of dead squirrels.

Also, *do not get a pool*. It's just another place for cute animals to die and then be discovered by your very impressionable and easily traumatized young children. Also, they're impossible to keep clean. If you're truly cottage core, you swim in a river or lake or ice-cold pond created by the snowmelt. It's better for the drought anyway.

2) BIG dead animals. You want to keep goats? Maybe sheep? That's great. Just know that at least three of them will die suddenly at the worst time, either from snakebite or illness or coyote attack or because they literally just decided to lie down under a nice tree and peacefully pass with literally no explanation. And then you will have to figure out how to bury them. And then how to have the Death Talk with your young, impressionable children who may or may not already be traumatized by the drowned fox they found in the pool a week ago.

Besides good fencing/livestock shelters, or maybe getting a livestock gaurdian dog/donkey/llama (no, I am not joking), there is nothing you can do about the mountain lions, bears and coyotes eating your animals. They were there before you. They will be there after you and the rest of humanity are gone. It's harsh, but that is what the song from the Lion King was actually about: Mufasa's right to eat everyone there.

Speaking of which:

3) you share the land. You do not own it. Oh, you think the bear cares that you bought this patch of forest with money and you don't like him eating your goats and/or peaches?? You can try showing him the deed and the NO TRESPASSING signs, but somehow I don't think that'll work.

Nature does not care. It will do as it does. No matter how good you are at singing and how many birds you befriend. Again, harsh. But not utterly insane. If you respect nature, it will not respect you, but you will at least know what to expect. So gopher-proof your garden. And get a cat.

4) coyote howling is actually quite lovely. Once you get over how eerie it sounds.

5) frogs are LOUD. They are so FREAKING loud. Some nights they will be SO loud you will not be able to sleep. Do not entice them into your yard with a pond unless you are willing to bear the consequences.

6) birds are LOUD. There is no need for a morning alarm, they ARE your alarm. You may think this sounds lovely, but you may not be feeling that way at 6 am on a Saturday after being kept up all night by the frogs.

7) think you'll go barefoot everywhere? Or at least have a good pair of Birkenstocks? No, my child, you will need to invest in at least 6 pairs of gumboots that will mostly be mud by the time spring comes around. Hiking boots are for summer. Unless you're ready for poison oak and ticks. Again, there is nothing you can do about that. Unless you are willing to take the risk and get a brush-eating goat. Even then, remember the snakes I mentioned earlier?

8) you will get desensitized to horror movie scenarios real quick. A cabin in the woods? Bro, that's my house. A pair of red eyes in the dark? That's just a coyote. Maybe a wandering dog. And even if it was a demon, how would it get in my house? That sucker's locked up tight. Creepy noises at night? Like, say, a woman screaming? That's probably a mountain lion or a fox. Yeah, they do that.

You quickly find that the bad things actually tend to happen to people who did not do their nature research as I explained above. Like, say, camping with grizzly bears. Or eating something they found in the woods. What kind of idiot are you??? The kind that eats berries they don't know the name of but think they look like blackberries. That's who.

9) what neighbors you have, may not be the... friendliest. There's a reason people move out this far, and it's usually to get away from other people. Are they marijuana farmers? Probably. Do they want to murder you? What, no, they don't want to get into trouble. They moved here to AVOID trouble. Just keep yourself to yourself and you'll be fine. But definitely make some friends in town. There is a town near you, right?

10) once you get over that initial learning curve/trauma, you will find that the forest actually is a really peaceful place to live. You know the patterns. You learn to read the weather. You are at peace with the fact that your beloved goats may die, but for now, you have succeeded in protecting them. As scary as the wilderness can be, it's far less scary than living with other humans. I'd rather deal with the peach-stealing bear (I am SO onto you) than the creepy dude who lives in the apartment below mine. Humans are far more unpredictable and weird than nature is. But that's just my *opinion*.

Okay, them's my thoughts. Anyone want to add/critique?

My very favorite Rumiko Takahashi panel.

YOU CANNOT SELF-FLAGELLATE YOUR WAY INTO EXCELLENCE

So I've been doing a lot of research about Glasgow in the 1890s (hobby story I've been doing that's probably never going to go anywhere and is mostly for getting to know this city better after being isolated for so long, blah blah blah, you get it) and I gotta say: poofy sleeves are amazing fun.

To draw. Not wear. I left behind my poofy sleeve days when I turned 8. I already have massive football player shoulders that would make any strong independent career woman in the 80s jealous, thanks very much.

Twitter users are defending their right to assume Picasso was a renaissance artist. Tiktok users think watching any film made outside the US makes you a snob. “Replace classic lit with YA and fan fiction” discourse is flourishing. I think we’re just living in anti intellectual times.

"I Died Today: A Valentine's Day Greeting" by L.K. Blackham on INPRNT

Hey, guys! Valentine's Day looms over us like a giant pink balrog, and what better way to appease the beast than to give a quirky, cool card that I bet no one else has seen and/or gotten and will surely remember forever? That's right, I've got a sexy, sexy card in stock here that is currently ON SALE! It's drawn by me, for you, each line infused with love and morbid bewilderment, printed by the patron saints of quirky holiday cards over at INPRNT. It features a depiction of the beloved patron saint of affianced couples, beekeepers, happy marriages, love, the mentally ill, plague, and epilepsy! Yes, it's true, Saint Valentine does more than just help the lovey dovey couples out there - he also wants to make sure you're practicing good mental self care and taking your medications regularly. Your relationship to your partner is important, sure, but what about your relationship.... with *yourself*?

The Wikipedia article also says he's the patron saint "against fainting", so I guess just avoid doing that on his saint's day. Be chill.

Man, the more I learn about this man the more I think I love him. Celebrate Valentine's Day and help support a poor indie artist/grad student! (That's me. I'm the poor artist.)

Looking at my profile, it looks like pretty much every single thing I've posted has been a drawing of me. :| Doesn't reflect terribly well on me, does it. I guess I find drawing myself a good way to settle back into my process, especially after a long break. I know what I look like, I can make me look as stupid as I want, it's easy peasy. Thus: the Gallery of Laura's Self Portraits.

Anyways, this one was fun because I try to present myself in my art as the person I really am: fairly nice (or trying to be), smiley, easily embarrassed, etc. But my actual real face was gifted to me by my distant stoic Neanderthal ancestors and so I look like I'm a hitman zeroing in on my next target, which happens to be whoever looks at me and makes eye contact. I swear it's just my eyebrows. They're tough b*tch eyebrows. I really don't deserve them.

On the plus side, they did protect me from bullying when I was a kid. That, and being the tallest kid in class until high school. Again: I did nothing to deserve it. People terrified me, and I cried *constantly*.

It was my birthday today! I turned 30. :) It was a very quiet day, but I think that's okay. Having a giant birthday bash would have felt like I was saying goodbye to something. When really, it's a day like any other, the only thing that's changed is the number on my government record, and I'm really very okay with closing the book on my 20s. I'm cool with being "old". "Old" in very heavy air quotes because actually I'm still ridiculously, painfully young. I just magically don't get hit on as often by creepy old dudes. I'd say that's a pretty big plus. My 20s were incredibly tough and weird, but I learned a lot and now I'm excited to start a new decade of my life where I'm still young but maybe slightly less stupid. ON TO 40!

There are a lot of posts about SoCal skater fashion, I figured it would be fun to show some Glasgow skater. Even though I'm from California. But like. I learned to skate in Glasgow. So.

Currently cold, windy, and alternating between wet or icy. Skating is fun, with an added thrill of serious bodily harm.

Perryn Rannock, Cleric of Ilmater.

Hello once again, Tumblr! It's been a while! I, like many, am making the exodus from Twitter and Instagram and returning to my ol' stompin' grounds here now that my drawings won't get got by Ye Algorythme. Hopefully.

Anyway, this is (one of) my D&D characters, a very tired but dedicated high elf cleric serving a human God. Love this boy. Hope he lives!