Worst. Christmas. Ever.

For Tyler, not Rachel and me; we had great Christmases.

Poor Ty-Ty, heart broken a few days before Christmas, but it's okay because his little sister still loves him.

Can't Stand the Heat

A little vignette I wrote a couple weeks back.  A look into Tyler's culinary past. Enjoy.

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The lens swirled open with a whir and the LCD screen flashed on. White balance slowly corrected itself, as the image racked focus between seemingly nothing and a small boy precariously standing inside the drawers of the kitchen counter. They were pulled out, arranged like a staircase. He was stabbing away at a large bowl with a wooden spoon, puffs of flour whooshing out with each jab.

“Hey Bay-bee, what’cha doing?” inquired the camera operator as she tracked around to the other side of the boy.

Startled, he jumped. A cloud of smoke hit him square in the face, as the foot in the bottom drawer slid backwards. His mother’s hand reached into the image and helped him out of his multi-level splits.

The boy’s eyes darted to the right of the screen, focusing on the red record light. He wiped flour from his lips before staring the lens down. “Moooom, I don’t wanna be filmed! Turn it off!”

“Aw, but come on! What are you doing? Tell Mommy what you’re doing, Ty-Ty.”

“I’m cooking a soufflé, Mom. Duh.”

“Oh really?” She zoomed in on the contents of the bowl: flour, cornstarch, three sticks of butter, and other various dry ingredients. “Why all the butter, Bay-bee?”

“It’s French. Get with the program. It’s a soufflé.” He shook his head, and hopped down from the drawers. The camera followed as he stumbled over to the refrigerator and pulled out whipping cream.

“And what, might I ask, inspired you to make a soufflé, little boy?”

He gave the camera an indignant glare.

“Excuse me. Big, master chef? Is that better?”

“Only slightly. But now you’re just being…” He slammed the carton of cream on the counter, and ambled up his constantly shifting stairway. He stared Heavenward in thought. “…patronizing.”

His mother laughed. “Alright. So I have a baker and a master wordsmith in my home. Now, are you going to tell me what inspired this ‘soufflé’?”

Cream splashed into the bowl, droplets splattering onto the already disastrous counter-top. The boy made a swift cycle around the bowl, took a tiny lick of the gloppy contents of the spoon, and shook it at the camera. “You see, Mom… Eating over at Alexia’s – they have a cook there – I’ve become accustomed to good food. And Mom; no offence, but…” He dropped his voice and offered the camera a sympathetic bat of the eye. “…your food stinks. A lot.”

There was an offended gasp. The camera began towards the foyer, no longer targeting the child. “Well. I guess I know when I’m not – I’ll just leave… and pout.” Hands wrestled with the camera, jerking it every which way – the ceiling, the sink, the floor, and back to the ceiling.

“Oh hey, Mom?” The camera movement ceased for a moment, as the operator awaited a bid to return. No such luck. “Before you leave, you think you can grab me the pudding? I think this needs some more…flair.”

A truncated grunt as the power switch is finally rediscovered.

Say Chicka Wha?

Welcome, curious minds!  Alright, so the plan here is that Rachel and Myself will used this webspace to chronicle the development of Holy Hell! into some tangible form.  We'll post character bios, sketches, tidbits of miscellaneous info, and even written character studies.  Probably memes too... because who doesn't love a good meme?

Hopefully, if all goes to plan, this blog will keep us focused and we'll have something to show for it in the not-so-horribly-far future.  We hope you'll visit, comment, share with your friends... any sort of encouragement you can offer. So... enjoy, ja?

We'll get the ball rolling with a little about Tyler...

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Tyler Jerome Son

Date of Birth: December 5th, 2036

Species: Demon

Race: Infernal/Lilitu/Kodama – Arabic/Persian/Japanese; Chinese

Powers: Pyrokinesis, Voice Mimicry, Damnation

Eye Color: Red

Hair Color: Black
Skin Color: Tan
Height: 5’5”

Distinguishing Features: Short, Pierced Left Ear

Bio/Personality:

Eldest child of an overly affectionate (and somewhat insane) mother and a well-meaning but emotionally unavailable father, Tyler has always been a bit reserved – with few friends. However, as long as he can remember he’s been companions with the girl across the street, Alexia Woods. Whenever Tyler’s under attack for his height, his oddity, or his demonic heritage (a frequent occurrence throughout his life), she’s there to kick ass without breaking a nail. So it’s no wonder that when his hormones kick in, she’s the apple of his eye. But does he pursue her? Oh no; he’s far too much of a wuss. Girls (amongst many other things) scare him. His interests are so abnormal; he feels too much a dweeb to ever garner affection from the opposite sex. Aside from cowering in the presence of women,Tyler excels at rambling on about an era he never experienced, obscure video games, and any neurotic thought that passes his mind; and though one wouldn't guess from his stature, he manuevers well on a basketball court and is the captain of the JV baskeball team.

Family: Saturn Son (Mother), Alexander Son (Father), Hana Son (Younger Sister), Kakaro (Grandfather), Satan II (Great Grandfather)
Friends: Travis Ashiro (Half-Cousin), Alexia Woods, Becky Brooks, Danny Puckett, Lewis Stanton

Favorite Color: Red
Favorite Food: Chocolate Pudding
Favorite Drink: Coffee

Favorite Movie(s)/TV Show(s): Titanic, 10 Things I Hate About You, Bring it On, Zoolander, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, The OC

Favorite Music: Alternative Rock (circa 1990-2005)

Favorite School Subject: Home Ec

Hobbies: Video Games, Basketball, Cooking