Thirty Days of the Jackalope

[froodle]

April is here and the shops are full of cut-price chocolate eggs. Traditionally a time for bunnies, in Eerie they probably have the Easter Jackalope bringing their chocolate eggs. To celebrate, I'll be posting a different Jackalope-themed bit of merch every day in April.

Here's a bisexual pride-coloured jackalope by Yoshi Yoshitani:

Eerie Indiana WIP Wednesday

[froodle]

What have you been working on this week, Eerie fans? Now's the time to spread the word about any fannish treats you've got cooking: a line of dialogue from an upcoming fic, linework for your latest art piece, the yarn colours for a new toy. Let us know in the comments!

2020: the Year of Nurse Nancy

[froodle]

It's the year 2020, and to mark the occasion we'll be running weekly prompts based around Just Say No Fun, the episode that introduced everyone's least favourite optometrist.

Your prompt for this week is:

THE MOUNTIE

Eerie Indiana Photo Five Challenge

[froodle]

Eerie Indiana Drabble: Party Invites

[froodle]

The invitation had arrived with the morning's post, immediately standing out from the rest of the mail as the only envelope not already savaged by the ravens.

Simon and Marshall sat side by side on the too-small cot bed that took up most of Simon's too-small bedroom, staring at the thick rectangle of creamy coloured card.

"And then what happened?" asked Marshall.

"Well, it was addressed to the Rat King, so I gave it to him," said Simon. "I don't think either of us expected Harley to take not being invited so badly."

"Any idea who this "Jerry" is?"

"Nope."

Ongoing Verse: Holmes Brothers

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Ongoing Verse: Trusted Associates Inc

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Eerie Indiana Drabble: First Aid

[froodle]

Somebody had slashed the Rat King's throat. One of his throats, anyway, but judging from the way the uninjured parts of him were thrashing, it must have been an important one.

"Put your hands over the wound," Simon instructed his little brother. "Press tight, burn hot."

A curl of smoke rose from between Harley's bloodied fingers, smelling of burning fur and cauterized flesh. Simon nodded.

"That's good, just like that."

He dragged a battered tin lunch box from underneath his bed and flipped it open, revealing anti-septic wipes and butterfly stitches and enough gauze to re-wrap a mummy.

Here goes.

Ongoing Verse: Holmes Brothers

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Ongoing Verse: Trusted Associates Inc

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Eerie Indiana Drabble: Wrong Enemy

[froodle]

The lead for his headphones caught around his ankle, and for one horrible moment Marshall thought that a kraken might have managed to stow away in his backpack when he left the lake.

He glanced down at the half-open, over-stuffed rucksack that was currently spilling homework, interesting-looking rocks and the Walkman he'd misappropriated from Syndi all over his parent's front hall, and sighed in relief.

That relief was short-lived, however; as he bent down to untangle the twisting black wire, he noticed that the foam disc covering the right ear-piece had come off. The Bureau of Lost had struck again.

Ongoing Verse: Trusted Associates Inc

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Ongoing Verse: Teller Family History

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Eerie Indiana Drabble: New Arrivals

[froodle]

Radford ran a feather duster over the display of disarticulated mannequin parts, making sure to get between every outstretched finger or set of plastic lips parted in an endless scream.

When Fred Suggs had showed up at his door, arriving in a sail boat mounted on four mismatched bike wheels and wearing a pirate hat, Radford hadn't exactly been keen to stock the plastic flotsam that Eerie's most notorious compulsive imposter had scooped from Lake Eerie. He'd accepted that first haul on a strict sale-or-return basis, expecting it would be mostly returns.

Turned out, the creepy forest cults loved them.

Ongoing Verse: The Powers That Be

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Ongoing Verse: Janet

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Eerie Indiana Drabble: Pre-Packaged

[froodle]

Janet placed a clean sheet of muslin over the almonds spread out across the counter, picked up a rolling pin and began hammering them with a ferocity that suggested they'd wronged her in some way.

Tod McNulty jumped, jolted from his reverie as he sat admiring his glazed pastry rendition of some Austrian metal band named after a demon. He laid careful hands on his creation, checking that none of his careful sculpting had been dislodged by the vibrations shaking the long worktable which spanned the room.

"You can buy those pre-crushed, you know," he said.

"I could," agreed Janet.

Ongoing Verse: Janet

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Eerie Indiana Drabble: Refurbish

[froodle]

Mary C. Carter walked a single slow circle around the prone carousel horse. She walked anti-clockwise, the way the dead walk, and the horse glared up at her with whited eyes and skinned teeth.

"Don't look at me like that," she told it, a warning note in her voice that set other, more familiar spirits scurrying for the safety of their sources. The horse continued to stare, but the air of other-worldly aggression dimmed a little.

"Better," said Marisea, setting down a plastic holdall stuffed with cleaning supplies and removing a jar of paint thinner. "Better, but still not great."

All Eerie, Indiana Ongoing Verse works by Froodle

Ongoing Verse: Andrea/Marisea

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Eerie Indiana Drabble: Mail Collection

[froodle]

The ground floor of their apartment building had a row of mailboxes, one for each resident. Marshall walked along the neatly numbered metal boxes, the cold iron key that corresponded to their box humming faintly in his sweaty-palmed grasp.

Some of the boxes were dented, doors bulging outwards like something had tried to escape. A couple were missing their doors altogether, leaving only a jagged tear where the hinges should have been. One of them chattered angrily as he passed, something like a papery tongue darting out to taste the air in front of it.

There were only bills waiting.

Ongoing Verse: Microwave

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Ongoing Verse: The Powers That Be

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Eerie Indiana Drabble: Hatching

[froodle]

The jackalope kitten was covered in egg yolk, yellow-gold and smelling like burning sugar. It struggled weakly amidst the pastel-coloured shell fragments, eyes barely open, antlers covered in pale grey velvet.

Simon looked at the carton still open on the kitchen counter beside him, where five more eggs sat nestled inside. They seemed perfectly ordinary, shells smooth and white, but when he shone the anglepoise lamp over them something moved inside.

He used a spatula to lift the kitten out of the mixing bowl, gently wiping it clean of flour and bundling it in a tea towel to keep warm.

Ongoing Verse: Microwave

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Ongoing Verse: Easter Weekend

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