#soothsquitos

[projectjournal3]

After finishing this page I wanted to color the fairies a bit more using aquarelle but it messed up the ink on the next page.

[fordanoia]

Soothsquitos

Their bites spell out dire messages for your future, except they’re frequently misspelled. I was told to “BATCH OUT FOR WILL,” which, as far as I can tell, is total nonsense!

So, I wanted to make a small post because I actually like to think about Ford missing the whole soothsquito message in two different ways.

The first is that Ford DID obviously understand that it was suppose to be ‘watch out for bill.’ However, he immediately dismissed it as utterly preposterous because what, really? Bill? Watch out for Bill? Well, obviously it can’t be that so this message is just complete nonsense. 

Now, because some journal stuff is exaggerated a bit for comedy my second idea is basing off of that realistically Ford would realize what the message was and still think it was actually a dire message..... but he’d take the meaning of it completely wrong.

Instead of taking it as Bill being dangerous, he took it as ‘watch out for bill so nothing bad happens to him.’ 

The message can be taken one of two ways, and considering how Ford legitimately believed Bill to be his friend- I definitely like to think he’d see this and keep an eye on him and potential dangers for Bill’s safety.

[mythomagically-delicious]

Thirty Ears

Stan trudged up the road to the house, grocery bags in both arms. One held bread and butter, his meals for the next week. The other held simple mechanical parts and ‘borrowed’ library books. Shifting the bags to one arm he groaned and slapped at an annoyance on his left side. The motion caused a twinge of pain to run up his arm and to his shoulder blade where the burn was still healing. Stifling another groan, he went up the steps and entered the house. 

It had been 2 months since the...accident. Stan was resolved to do everything he could to get his brother back. But it was a hard start. After the locals got their first fill of the Murder Hut, it was harder to get an interest from tourists to go to some dinky town in Roadkill County Oregon and check his miserable place out.

On top of all that, he was busting his ass every night studying math higher than anything he could have ever dreamed of, and all with less than a full education, not even having graduated high school. Stan felt like a loser, one who’d always be behind, and like everything kept kicking him further back even when he tried to keep up.

And then there was the creatures around this freaky town. Supernatural crazies like the ones described in the one journal he had. And a whole bunch not in this journal. He had plenty of visits from the gnomes, and they were starting to get angry that there was never any food in his trash bin for them to steal. Tough luck, Stan thought. There’s hardly enough for me in the first place. Those little free-loaders can find a new garbage can to raid.

And, to top everything off, he’s gotten so many bug bites in the last couple of days, he could almost make out words in the pattern. But why a bunch of mosquitoes would spell out ‘THIRTY EARS’ on his arm was beyond him.