Apocalypse_Cow:songs will be sung. potential mourned. someone will have to notify the fans, of course. as head security admin for the ms forums, i accept this responsibility.
emmersmacks:When did you start calling yourself Head Security Admin
emmersmacks:All you do is ban trolls
“Oh, Eliza, look.” Mom’s hand brushes my shoulder. I look up and find her examining a poster on a board by the gym entrance. Dad and the boys have already taken off toward the soccer field, where the teams warm up for their game. “They’re starting tennis lessons soon. I really think you’d love tennis—it’s a solitary game, and it’s great exercise.”
“No,” I say, and go back to my phone. She gives up immediately.
We’ve evolved this process steadily over the years. When I was little and didn’t have a say in the matter, my parents signed me up for every sport under the sun. Little League Baseball. Soccer. Basketball. Volleyball. I hated all of them because I didn’t—don’t—have any coordination and I didn’t—don’t—like to talk, so I didn’t play well, so my teammates wanted me gone. The first time I told my dad I wanted to quit softball, he flipped out and didn’t speak to me for a week. Mom tried to reason me back into it.
It would build character. It would help me make friends. It would be good exercise.
I refused. Then I quit all the other sports too. Casting them off was like casting off a set of old, heavy armor. Church and Sully loved sports, so some of the focus fell away from me, but Mom and Dad still tried. If I said no, they kept trying. I kept saying no.
Now we are at that place where they suggest something and I say no and that’s the end of it.
I follow Mom to the soccer field and perch beside her atthe foot of the bleachers. Dad stands on the sidelines, coach’s clipboard in hand, talking to a group of gangly fourteen-and-under boys in sky-blue uniforms. I take my pencils and eraser out of my pocket and crack open my sketchbook.
“I wish you wouldn’t take that everywhere,” Mom says. “Why can’t you watch your brothers play?”
I look up at her, then at the field, then back down at my sketchbook. There’s no answer I can give her that she wants to hear, so I won’t give her one at all.
We get home in time forDog Days. I scramble out of the car over a sweaty Church, grab a water bottle from the fridge in my rush to my room, turn on the small TV on the crook of the desk beside the computer, and flip the channels until I find the one I want. The opening credits are starting. I wake up the computer and hurry to the website.
Monstroussea.com is not only the first place to find all theMonstrous Seapages I’ve done up to this point, it’s also the link to the largest fan forums for the comic and a chat page where once a week I show up under my pen name to watchDog Dayswith the fans. This is the only time LadyConstellation speaks live.
LadyConstellation:I’M HERE! Nobody worry, I’m here!
moby66:Yay!
GirlWho:yayayay
hustonsproblem:We thought you wouldn’t show up!
A flood of other comments follows those. Usually there are so many people in the chat I can’t actually reply to any of them. I blurt out things about the show and let them respond. They hold conversations with themselves. Mostly the point is that I’m there, and we’re watching the same thing, and for once no one is talking aboutMonstrous Sea.
I loveMonstrous Seaas much—probably more—as them, buteven I need something simple to talk about every once in a while.
A private chat comes up on my phone, where I’m still logged in to my MirkerLurker account.
Apocalypse_Cow:looking forward to this one! will spencer find out jane’s a lesbian and is also dating his ex??
Max will never admit it to the public, but he loves watchingDog Daysas much as the rest of us. Only Emmy and I know, but right now Emmy’s too busy frolicking with the other fans in the main chat.
I send some senseless emojis to Max and start commenting in main chat through the opening scenes ofDog Days, where Spencer does indeed discover Jane has come out as a lesbian and is now dating his ex-girlfriend Jennifer. I can’t tell if this is mindless plot twisting or if the show is actually trying to make some statement about gay rights. I send that to chat. They love it.
At the first commercial break, I scan into the computer the newMonstrous Seapage I sketched out in school today and bring it up in Photoshop to start the good line work. My pen display waits for me like a prized stallion ready to launch out of the gate, its screen duplicating the screen of my computer. I pull my smudge guard—an old glove with the thumb, index, and middle fingers cut off—over my right hand, to keep the pen display screen from getting gross, and to let my hand move smoothly across it.Nothing ruins a piece faster than poor hand movement.
Line work is my favorite part of any page. Colors are second, but line work has a subtlety matched by nothing else. Good lines will make or break a picture. Bonus, this page will have some really awesome lines: right now, Amity and Damien are in the middle of the Battle of Sands, where Orcians and Earthens clash for control of the capital city of the desert lands.
Monstrous Seainvolves a lot of elemental-type powers, very anime, so most fights have great lines. Especially when Amity and Damien are there, because they fight with crystals and fog. Angles and curves. Delicious.
The commercial ends before I get a chance to really do anything. I set down my pen and turn back to the chat to find a few noticeable newcomers among the flock.
LadyConstellation:I hope no one caused any trouble during that commercial break.
rainmaker:Define “trouble.”
