Hank Speaks.

Who were you, Hank?

Who was I, Kid? Legend… in my own mind. Like all the men ‘fore me. Ruthlessly strong, but so unfortunately young. Innocent in my deeds so much as compelled by them…

I was the shining scourge of this underworld. My posse rising from the dust around me on devilish mare and spectral horse. Our eyes dark as dusk, but we rose with heart. Heart burning strong with the fire of the setting sun. We had all lived lives of great glory and pursuit, and in that, we shared our death. Paving the lands of the unknowable, bringing the sunset. Bringing the fire.

We tamed lands, we awoke the plains with life. Free from time and boundaries, we burned the maps. Unshackled the prisoners and kept riding, let the die lay where they may.

Oh we faced opposition. We were not the first. There was always someone before, now washed out by the sifting sands. But we held strong to our passions in the long nights. In the dark times. Often only saved by the warmth of the cracklin’ fire. We tamed those beasts, just like the rest….

Heavens… it’s been so long since those days. Lineages have crumbled, galaxies have formed. Stars have collapsed, even…more than likely in our name…

Well… what happened?

What always happens. You get old. But ah…how do you die? You’re already dead. You decay, you lose your form. You lose your mind, you fall prey to the darkened soul…

The consciousness is unlimited. Timeless, and in so formless. Left here with only the power of your mind, your world is yours. But we as unique form can only hold so much life. Only so much rain in the old bucket, rotted through with a sharp rust. Time doesn’t age you, of course, we are free of time… but it is the perception that does you in. The expectation.

You expect to be old. You lose pride and let the wounds come. Then you heal and you let them come again. You lose strength, you lose faith…. Those who followed in your glory, die away… Done in by a ruthless betrayal. A wicked turn.

Your compass gets cracked when you’re bucked from your horse. Scared by a damned snake in the grass, who by the way, never really existed in the first place!

You lose your way in the dust, hide yourself in the rocks…

I ain’t asking for much anymore…Nah…Just the sun to shine and the people to see on their journeys.

Now listen here, alright? Our strength is in each other. With each other, we are ourselves. Y’see? I rode with that posse like a seed on the wind. We were brothers, but each with it’s own fertile soil. Set to be born, to grow, and to further the idea.

I show them the way, one way. I show them the path that lies off the trail and into the brush. Through the bramble of their own minds. The only knowledge worth knowing, is that of the self. The first hand. That’s what makes us, and here, it makes the world around you too…If you believe it enough. 

But if everyone has that power?

The survival of You depends on what you believe as truth. 

Heh. I am fading now. Wasting away…. The further you sink back to reality, the older you get… You forget… You’re not here. You’re really… really right there. Right where they left you…

More in-progress. Henry, Hank, The Sheriff. Warden of Sundrop and Usher of souls.

More in-progress. Henry, Hank, The Sheriff. Warden of Sundrop and Usher of souls.

"I want to help these souls." Henry said.
 "You do." Marga assured him.
 "I want to be there for them. Keep showing them the way…"
 "You are."
 "I still have the strength. The knowledge. I’ve lived lifetimes, through myself and through others… I can still lead them."
 "You can. I’ve seen it."
 "Then… then why do I feel so darn… tired all the time? Like I’m falling to pieces… Dyin’ all over again…”
 "Because nothing is eternal. The power of life is in its brevity. It holds on to us for meaning, but finds ultimate power in the letting go."
You taught me this, Hank.”
The two sit in silence for a few moments.
"And yet…we’re still here." Henry said.
 "We are." Marga assured him.
—-
More comic stuff. A little exchange between two of the main characters. Henry, the town Sheriff, and Marga, a reclusive witch. They’ve lived a long life in the town of Sundrop, and have formed a special bond because of it.

I want to try to post more comic stuff. I’ve been holding a lot of it close to the chest, but I’m starting to feel the need to show it. See if it really interests anyone other than me, see if there’s any future in these ideas.
Thanks for lookin’, enjoy!

"I want to help these souls." Henry said.

"You do." Marga assured him.

"I want to be there for them. Keep showing them the way…"

"You are."

"I still have the strength. The knowledge. I’ve lived lifetimes, through myself and through others… I can still lead them."

"You can. I’ve seen it."

"Then… then why do I feel so darn… tired all the time? Like I’m falling to pieces… Dyin’ all over again…”

"Because nothing is eternal. The power of life is in its brevity. It holds on to us for meaning, but finds ultimate power in the letting go."

You taught me this, Hank.”

The two sit in silence for a few moments.

"And yet…we’re still here." Henry said.

"We are." Marga assured him.

—-

More comic stuff. A little exchange between two of the main characters. Henry, the town Sheriff, and Marga, a reclusive witch. They’ve lived a long life in the town of Sundrop, and have formed a special bond because of it.

I want to try to post more comic stuff. I’ve been holding a lot of it close to the chest, but I’m starting to feel the need to show it. See if it really interests anyone other than me, see if there’s any future in these ideas.

Thanks for lookin’, enjoy!