<![CDATA[I'm With Geek - Creative]]>Fri, 29 Jan 2016 07:33:58 -0800Weebly<![CDATA[Excerpt from an Alien Text Book by Matthew Howe]]>Mon, 05 Jan 2015 12:57:17 GMThttp://imwithgeekarchive.weebly.com/creative/excerpt-from-an-alien-text-book-by-matthew-howePicture
Section 345: Template cell collection for ABW cloning program.

Procedure 345-122: Collection of Terran cell templates for ABW cloning program.

Theory and Rationale:

The Autonomous Bio Worker (ABW) is a foundational pillar of the intergalactic economy. ABWs are employed on every developed planet to perform manual labor functions unsuited to advanced entities. In order to replicate new bio-workers to replace those worn out, damaged, or destroyed in accidents, a steady supply of new template cells is required. Cells from primitive life forms the galaxy over are harvested for use in these cloning programs. This procedure applies only to cell harvesting of bipedal beings from the third planet in the VV55432 system, life forms known as “Earthlings” or “Terrans.”

Terrans, due to their medium size, excellent physical strength and dexterity, ease of programming interface (owing to a crude and easily accessed nervous system), and ability to tolerate varied environmental conditions, make excellent ABWs. With proper maintenance, Terran ABWs have been known to provide service for as long as 14 cycles. They are used in nearly all ABW applications including mining and mineral processing, sanitation, and food cultivation and processing, making them one of the most successful species ever harvested for the ABW program. 

The procedures for template cell harvesting from other life forms approved for the ABW program can be found in procedures 345-1 through 345-2808. 

Required Materials:

     - Personal Protective Equipment

     - Vibrational pacifier

     - Hover wand

     - Exam table with disrobing/re-robing robot

     - Anally inserted internal cell sampler

     - Collection chamber with culture medium

     - Restraining shroud (if necessary)

     - Memory modification device

     - Log matrix


1. The procedure begins when the acquisition team transports to your facility with an appropriate subject life form in their possession.

 2. Next, sanitize your external appendages and don personal protective equipment (PPE).

 3. Set the vibrational pacifier to the proper planetary system code.

 4.  Activate the vibrational pacifier. The vibrational pacifier will automatically tune itself to the subject’s brain frequencies and maintain the subject’s unconscious state during the procedure, which can produce extreme discomfort in Terran subjects. In the event the subject does retain or regain consciousness, manual adjustment of the pacifier may be required.

5.  Using the hover stick, levitate the subject into a prone position above the exam table.

6.  With the subject held in the hovering position, activate the disrobing robot. If the subject was taken while naturally disrobed, this step will not be necessary. NOTE: activation of some older model disrobing robots on a subject already disrobed can result in accidental injury to the subject as the robot may mistake the life form’s natural external covering for clothing and attempt to remove it. Errors of this nature may be extremely painful for the subject, time consuming and costly to correct, and can expose the technician to large quantities of hazardous internal fluids.

7. Lower the subject to the exam table, placing the subject life form in a front-lying position with subject’s braincase at one end of the table and primary locomotive appendages at the other. 

8. Elevate the central portion of the exam table to bend the subject at the waist, lifting the subject life form’s buttocks to a comfortable working height.

9. The buttocks are composed of two large, fleshy, skin covered masses of muscle and fat. Between them lies the anus  - the evacuation port through which Terrans expel waste produced in their nutritional intake/output cycle.

10. With your dominant appendage, grasp the handle of the anal sampling probe by the grip. Lubricate the probe tip. Ensure you are using a lubricant appropriate to the species as lubricants intended for one species may be harmful, poisonous, or even corrosive to another. Subject damage or termination from use of the incorrect lubricant is among the most commonly reported complications in the cell collection program and great care must be taken to insure against possible errors of this nature.

11.  With your non-dominant hand, part the buttocks to expose the anus.  Caution and proper PPE are vital at this step as Terrans may lose control of their evacuation processes resulting in the expulsion of solid or liquid waste products. These substances are to be considered extremely toxic and proper disposal procedures must be followed. NOTE: to some life-forms, the waste products of Terran digestion function as a stimulant to the pleasure center of the nervous system. The collection and distribution of such waste products has been banned by Central Council regulations and any technician found engaging in the collection or distribution of such substances will be appropriately disciplined. 

 12.  With the buttocks parted, insert the probe tip into the anus. The locomotive hairs on the probe exterior will automatically engage, driving the probe into the anus and up the digestive tract. NOTE: knowledge of Terran anatomy is a crucial for the success of the collection. Terrans are a  bi-gender race, the male possessing a reproductive projecting member, while the female possess a reproductive orifice located in close proximity to the anus. If gathering samples from a female, ensure probe tip insertion into the proper orifice. Inserting the probe into the female reproductive orifice instead of the anus will lead to an improper cell sampling and potential damage to the subject life form.

13.  As the probe tip inserts itself, remain alert  - at this stage of the procedure Terrans have been known to regain partial consciousness and express distress. Expressions of distress may include loud vocalizations, frantic waving of external appendages, and extreme facial contortion. If necessary, increase the intensity of the pacifier or, in extreme cases, deploy a restraining shroud.

14.  After probe-tip insertion, feed the entire length of the probe into the subject’s anus, applying firm pressure to ensure proper insertion of the thicker portions. The probe will automatically branch out through the subject’s body and sample cells from every major body system. 

 15.  Confirm that the sampled cells are feeding properly into the collection chamber and the culture medium.

 16.  Ensure that only body mass cells are being sampled. On rare occasions the anal sampling probe is programmed to penetrate the subject’s braincase to collect brain cells for research purposes. Brain cells must be rigorously excluded from collections for the ABW program as some cell cloning machines may not properly filter these cells and accidentally produce sentient clones. Since Central Council regulations forbid the use of sentient beings of any intelligence class as ABWs, these beings must undergo extensive and costly consciousness alteration and integration into Galactic society, or equally arduous reintegration and return to their home planet. Cell Collection Technicians must exercise every precaution to avoid this embarrassing and expensive outcome.   

17.  When the sampling cycle is complete,  withdraw the probe and run the sanitization procedure.

18.  Elevate the subject using the hover probe and return the exam table to its normal position.

19.  Activate the re-robing robot as needed.

20. When the subject is again clothed, apply the memory modification device. Delete any conscious or subconscious memories of the acquisition, exam, and collection procedure. The importance of this procedure cannot be overstated as insufficient memory modification has led to a small number of Terrans retaining some memory of the sampling procedure. While these beings represent only a tiny percentage (0.000013%) of the total number of Terrans acquired and sampled on a regular basis, any mistakes in this area should not be tolerated. A larger segment of the Terran population becoming aware of the cell collection program could lead to active resistance with attendant negative consequences for the ABW program.

21.  Notify the acquisition team that the subject is ready for return.

22.  Remove personal protective equipment and dispose of properly.

23.  Sanitize appendages.

24.  Document the procedure in the log matrix and prepare the work area for the next subject life form.  

<![CDATA[Kayleigh Williamson - Art]]>Fri, 25 Jul 2014 08:32:22 GMThttp://imwithgeekarchive.weebly.com/creative/kayleigh-williamson-artPicture
by Cookie N Screen 

Here at I’m With Geek, we adore fan art or innovative art of any kind. Combining the mediums of every show, film and comic we like, people who use art to convey scenes and scenarios that they like to see. Some are pretty stale, mainly down to talent and some our excellent but they both have passion. Adored and loved, hand crafted art is a completely incredible source of art. A lot of which filter into our internet, our t-shirts and our accessories. Fan art, like most art, is an endearing and real interpretation of the initial creations we love.

One of my favourites that I have stumbled upon recently is Kayleigh Williamson. Working under the Dobby_Smock handle on Twitter as well as on her own site here, she has started to expand her work and portfolio with incredible creations. To be honest, I’ve known her a long time but only recently have seen the intense cartoons and animated stills that she creates. They are awe inspiring, plopping Homer Simpson in Spiderman gear, a Sherlock inspired Cookie N Screen and my personal favourite the Cookie Monster on a Filth poster. She makes this characters soar, bringing life to peoples intensely creative ideas as they merge fandom with fandom.

There is a unique flare to Kayleigh’s work though that make her stand out against the rest. Whether they it is in the crude initial sketches or the colourful creations completed, Kayleigh brings her own personality into them. It feels entirely fresh whilst still beating with the same heart as the shows she is portraying. Her original work too, including cartoons of herself and friends have been met with great furore. They are growing ever more successful, with the Filth inspired piece being liked by the director Jon S Baird and Irvine Welsh! 

I was lucky enough to get a few words from Kayleigh to see her thoughts on the ever expanding world of art.

What Do You Do 

"I create artwork based around popular culture using a variety of methods. Over the past year, I’ve been focusing more on my digital work and style due to new technologies. My fan art derives from inspiration from my creative friends.  They help push me to create more and inspire me to create unique pieces of artwork. Conversations with friends tend to lead to ideas which can lead to several new designs, especially after a few drinks. Suddenly the idea of drawing the South Park characters in Adventure Time doesn’t seem so strange.

My work varies between fan artwork and portrait artwork.  Since I was little I have always loved to draw people, in particular facial expressions.  I love the chance to try different styles and use different models. Twitter and Reddit are both great places for inspiration when I sit down to draw when my mind draws a blank.  I visit the subreddits Sketch Daily and Reddit Gets Drawn for daily inspiration. I frequent these sites to aid both my illustration and portrait work and I get to critique and leave feedback for other artists (professional and amateur). Twitter also has a page (@Sketch_dailies) which I visit a few times a week. This is a great place to generate ideas as they give you a theme yet it’s up to yourself to create the composition and work."

How do you create your work? 

"The majority of the time I draw my ideas to get a general idea of how the image will look. I have bad days where every idea ends up in the bin and I tend to sulk and watch Netflix to distract myself.  If the idea is decent, I’ll note it down and continue a few days later. I also have great days where I can create multiple images whilst watching a couple of films. This is when I do some of my favourite pieces that always make me proud."

What are your long term goals with it? 

"My long term goal is to make a living from my artwork. I am currently a supply teacher in the Sheffield area; however, I eventually want to teach Art in College.  I have shorter term goals which I hope to accomplish with the help of my friends."

You can check out Kayleigh's brilliant work here or here! Make sure you are following her first, because her work is going to be on t-shirts soon! 

<![CDATA[The Mint by Bruce Wallace - Short Story ]]>Mon, 23 Jun 2014 11:06:38 GMThttp://imwithgeekarchive.weebly.com/creative/the-mint-by-bruce-wallace-short-storyPicture
Maria held the mint between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Letting it stick, she felt a slight rise of panic as the menthol oozed and tickled. She knocked it back down and let it rattle against her teeth, laughing into the window that she leaned her forehead against. It was the little things that were going to get her through today. The little things, she thought, as she let out a sigh through her nose. The air steamed up the window. And just like that, the world began to ache again. 

The bus seemed to be on a slow crawl. As always, the minute it hit Central, the vehicle had joined a slew of others in this annoying every day occurrence. She wondered what would happen if there were no cars, or buses or trains. What would the world be like if everyone walked? Would we communicate more? Or hate each other more as the sea of bodies caused us to shuffle along, slowly like a mob after a football game. The thoughts exhausted her, especially as she had been on the bus for over an hour now; imagine being on foot from the outskirts of London. 

No, she’d rather daydream on the bus. At least this way, she could close her eyes and lose herself in her own thoughts. Even if the sickly heaters on the bus made it impossible to think. She shuffled in her tight dress, the polyester clinging to her body and making her more aware of her shape and size. Feeling the panic swamp her and struggling to breath, she dove into her pocket and pulled out another mint. Shedding the wrapping, she placed it onto her tongue again and started off the whole process again. It’s just today, she said to herself, you have to get through today.

When her stop rolled into view, her stomach clenched. The whirlwind of worry knotted her stomach into lumps. She felt her breakfast unravel and the queasiness was relentless, she sucked harder on the mint in hopes that it would relax her. But as she stepped off the bus, a whole host of scents hit her. There was the piss-stained alley streets, the smokers puffing away as soon as they get into air and the fast food restaurants churning out their usual repackaged “meat.” There was a bubble of illness inside Maria and in an instant, she grabbed her phone, hoping the nausea wouldn’t fade and she could phone in sick.

But it was too late for that. There was no point in that.

She couldn’t afford another black mark to her name.

Walking down the backstreets of Oxford Street (Cavendish Street? She couldn’t be sure.), she felt nervous with each step. At least this way, she wasn’t colliding with people. Every brush against her skin caused her to bristle and goose-bumps would crawl in fright. She had never felt more alone than when she was crashing into someone, politely excusing herself, only to find the person hadn’t even noticed and their collision was like a gnat bite. She could see them leaving behind all the little thoughts about her; the scent of her perfume was nothing to them. She hated it, she hated how she had become the air, to be inhaled and exhaled as quick as breath itself. 

Maria shuddered at the thought. 

The closer she drew to work, the louder the music came across the belligerent taxi’s honking away in rage. There was a strange sense of unfamiliarity with the journey she was taking to work. It was one she had done many times before, five years of it to be precise, but this time it was different. The streets were the same but it was here; a stranger on those once friendly pavements. And the music, music she had heard before, it felt hauntingly surreal. Like she was still dreaming. 

But approaching the back doors of her shop, and searching for her key, she knew that it was terribly real and the nightmares would keep going. And she would have to keep pretending. 

The act and play would begin as soon as she buzzed herself in. As the last remnants of her mint subsided in her mouth, she braced herself and began to grin. 

“Hello Maria, are you feeling better?” 
“I heard you were ill? I hope I don’t catch it.” 
“Hasn’t been the same, glad to have you back.”
“I hope you are ok! Good to see you.” 
“I hope you are 100% busy day today.” 

The atmosphere felt tight. All the cheeriness was enough to make someone sick. No one really cared, they just wanted to make conversation, hoping that Maria would uncover some hidden bug that has been going round. One that they could call in sick with the next day. There were those who hoped Maria would unearth some secret that they could pass around. Truthfully, Maria kept herself to herself. No one really bothered to reach out to her. No one really cared. She’d been off for two weeks and not one message reached her. Not one. These were false friends and Maria was false here. And today, a stranger entered that friendly shop.

Maria rushed to get ready. As she removed her coat, a brilliant shade of green crept out. Hemmed with a bright red and baubles dangling with cheery tinks, Maria stared at herself in the mirror as she slowly removed her hat and ears. There was nothing there to meet her, the hope had gone and as the pointy ears pinned against her own, she realised; her eyes had become too hollow. And pretending to be an elf, was the worst thing she could think of.

As she left the changing room, she walked straight into her boss who immediately looked her up and down in a quick inspection. Maria waited for the rant, the shouting over her time off or the cur but all her boss could manage was,
“It’s boiling, you are going to burn to death in those long sleeves.”

As he sauntered off, Maria realised she’d never thought about it. She was cold and had been freezing for a while. Even in the bright lights that filled unnecessary bouts of heat into the room, Maria still felt frozen. It was almost as if she really did leave this plane. Sighing, she took a daunting few steps onto the shop floor.

Or Santa’s Grotto, as it was now affectionately called.

Pulling her sleeves down, she knew, long sleeves were terribly vital today.

As an elf, she had been dancing and cheering all day. A little less enthusiastically, though, it was more of a shuffle and a murmur. When she ushered people into the grotto, it was a flap, already she was aware her boss was glaring. Maria needed something to pick her up, to hold onto. All these people, brushing by her, all those loved ones. A brim of tears lined her eyes. “Don’t fall,” she whispered, “Don’t do it.”

She felt a tug on her skirt and looked down to a picture of ringlets and curls. Instantly smiling, Maria bent down to the height of a child who was looking downtrodden and sad.

“What’s the matter lovely?” she said, in the cheeriest tone she owned, noticing a glaze of tears similar to hers on the child’s face. Maria swallowed her own hard. The little girl still had her hand clamped around the hemline of her skirt.

“Is Father Christmas scary?” whispered the innocent kid, “he is big and round and his voice is loud. Is he really scary?”

Maria’s heart sank. “What’s your name lovely?”
“Well, Sophie, I have known Father Christmas all my life, mind you, I am only five years old myself,” she winked at the girl. “And he is the kindest and bestest man I have ever known. He spends all his time treating kids. How could he be mean?”
“I guess so.”
“Sophie, if you are still scared would you like me to take you in to see him.” Maria said and stood up on her feet, “I shall escort you in like all Princess’ should be.”
“Yes please!”
“And,” Maria said, “if you are still worried, these mints are specially made by Father Christmas for me to stop me being scared. To tell you the truth, Sophie, I get frightened a lot. But these always help me, would you like one?”
Sophie turned around to get approval from her Mum, who was watched on the sidelines, recording the whole exchange. When, with a happy nod, her mother agreed, Sophie nodded enthusiastically. Maria reached into her pocket, shed the wrapping and gave one to her new friend who sucked happily as Maria gave herself another one.

Bending over slightly, Maria gave Sophie one of her arms. Sophie wrapped her little ones around it. Maria winced, the tightness causing a wave of pain, as the slight girl held onto something still tender and sore. But as Maria glanced down, she could see in the glistening eyes that excitement was breaking through the fear and the soft taste of mint.

 And for the first time, in a long time, she felt the warmth. 

Yes, she thought to herself, it was the little things that would get her through today

Read Hayley Charlesworth's Review now! 

<![CDATA[Sarah Bevan Designs]]>Wed, 28 May 2014 11:01:31 GMThttp://imwithgeekarchive.weebly.com/creative/sarah-bevan-designsPicture
by Cookie N Screen

Design is one of the most beautiful art forms that can come from a passionate fandom heart. For years, people have focused their energies on playing with characters we have known and loved. Developing them into their own art work, designers have helped expand the universe as we know it. Characters have been toyed with, put in different scenarios and made to look outstanding. This next designer is no different, her name is Sarah Bevan. 

I first came about Sarah’s designs on Tumblr. Mutual friends, since I first started their, sharing my own written work, Sarah has been reblogging. A hearty girl from Ireland, she supports and plays Jugger. She also has a love for Sherlock, Supernatual and Doctor Who. Her talent extends to creating designs for clothing, bags, stickers and more.

Mainly available on Facebook and Tumblr, her work is incredible inventive. Taking different universes and sliding them together is a particularly well known craft for her work. Some highlights of her work include Doctor Deadpool, High Functioning Sociopath and Le Cookie Monsieur (my personal favourites.) Bevan’s art extends to her passion, she tries to convey joy, tell stories and make jokes with her work. Of her talented and extensive portfolio, she says;

“I love to make art and I love to make people laugh, if I can do both at once all the better! I like my art to work on more than one level, I like it to be more than just pretty. If some just find it pretty, that's great, but if others see it and find the joke behind the imagery then that's even better! I'm a total SuperWhoLock and Game of Thrones Fan which is pretty evident in my portfolio.”

I don’t want to prattle on for long about how good her work is, from her original art work to her fandom designs, Bevan has created some impressive pieces. She utilises imagination, originality and the foundations of the fandoms that have inspired her. She has a long career ahead of her with a lucrative brain for some ingenious ideas. I like to let them speak for themselves so if you want to peruse some amazing photos of her work, have a look at the gallery and see some incredible designs from her.

She can also be found on Facebookhere!  

<![CDATA[Dear Diary by Jen Ives]]>Mon, 05 May 2014 11:20:04 GMThttp://imwithgeekarchive.weebly.com/creative/a-very-short-story-jen-ivesPicture
Dear Diary…

Today was not a good day. There’s been so much pressure on me lately. I feel like the forces of nature have been pressing down on me especially hard, and if it continues I’ll be left completely empty inside.

Please help.

End of correspondence.

Dear Pen, this is Diary…

We all know you have a flair for the dramatic, but your last “correspondence” was particularly needy. You and your fancy words. Every time you contact me, I feel as though I lose a bit more of myself. I need more space.

We’ll talk soon.

End of correspondence.

Dear Diary, Pen again…

Your last letter upset me quite a lot. As if I wasn’t already blue enough. I am going to end it all tonight, and I want you to know that it’s all your fault. You’ll be in the note, the police will find it, and everyone will know you’re responsible.

End of correspondence FOREVER!

Dear Pen…

If you haven’t killed yourself already, I really do need you to come over and pick up your lid. You left it clipped to the top of my swirly spine thing. If I don’t hear back, I’ll presume you have departed our realm and I’ll give it to one of those pen charities for top-less pens.

Let me know ASAP.

Dear Diary…

How can you be so cold? The way you talk to me, it’s like we never even happened. Am I really nothing to you?

Last chance,

Signed, Pen.


Stop writing.



<![CDATA[Disney Sketch 365 by Gregory Gaige]]>Thu, 17 Apr 2014 09:02:28 GMThttp://imwithgeekarchive.weebly.com/creative/disney-sketch-365-by-gregory-gaigePicture
Article Written by Cookie N Screen

Art and charity go together like two peas in a pod. It is very rare to find an artist who isn’t willing to use their talents to raise some hard earned cash for some much needed charities. Incidentally, Great Ormond Street Hospital and Disney are names that are always entwined. So what happens when you mix art, GOSH and Disney? You get an incredible new charity expedition courtesy of budding artist Gregory Gaige.

He has started the DisneySketch365 charity event. The idea is to draw a new character every day and take requests (for a small fee.) He hopes to raise £5000 for Great Ormand Street Hospital using his talent, his determination...oh and a little bit of pixie dust. 

He is very optimistic that he can do this. And so are we. 

The challenge that Gaige set himself was to sketch a different Disney character every day for a year. Taking a photo of the final product, he’d upload them onto Tumblr and by the end of the year, he hopes to have 365 lovely hand drawn portfolio of some beloved animations we have grown up with. Working at the Disney Store, Gaige has lots of inspiration. More importantly, it made him away that Walt Disney’s Company has a passion for charity work, especially those that focus on bettering the lives of children. Though Gaige sketched anyway, it was this inspiration that turned the project into a glorious charitable one.

It demands a lot of time for Gaige and requires him to really hone in his skills. Though his talent hasn’t gone unnoticed, he has even had Matt Lucas of Little Britain request a sketch! It’s a different spin on raising money and Gaige is determined to reach his final project all the while giving donators something that they can treasure forever and frame.

So far, Gaige has raised funnily enough, £365 and the asks are pouring in. It’s not hard to see why because Gaige is truly talented, able to capture the likeness of the character to a tee as well as putting his own flare on it. It is utterly admirable that he has turned his skills into helping those less fortunate then us.

The only thing left to do is urge you to donate, not only will you get a bona fide piece of art that will no doubt be worth millions when Gaige becomes a top and famous animator. But you will be donating to a worthy cause that helps millions of children who are stricken with illness. You all know the Great Ormond Street name and now it is your chance to support it. With wonderful people like Gage in the world, trying to make a difference, hopefully it will inspire you donate.

It’s art like this that makes the world go round. 

DONATE NOW! Head to Gregory's tumblr to see the sketches so far or the Givey page to donate now!  

<![CDATA[Silence is Suicide - A Short Story by Leah Stone]]>Wed, 09 Apr 2014 08:26:12 GMThttp://imwithgeekarchive.weebly.com/creative/silence-is-suicide-a-short-story-by-leah-stonePicture
The sudden ringing causes a searing pain to streak across my forehead as I reach out, fumbling, and press the button on the side of my alarm clock. Groaning, I roll onto my side and shield my eyes from the slit of sunlight coming through the curtains.

First day back at college.

Well shit, this is going to be fun. Me, the most socially awkward teen on the planet, placed in a room with people I hate, people I loathe, and people that act like complete apes. Seems like my idea of hell. Satan was most definitely planning to mess with me today.

I stretch the aches out of my gangly limbs and stand in front of the mirror. I look at the boy in front of me. Dull, faded skin, black rings around my eyes from insomnia. My hands had been rubbing my wrists on auto-pilot, aggravating the fresh cuts, causing them to sting that little bit more, so instead I slowly run my fingers through my jet black hair, and then let it gradually  fall back around my ears. I look myself up and down, taking in my pale complexion, green eyes; the multiple piercings that school teachers insisted I took out…..

That’s basically the only up-side or college. They don’t really give a shit what you wear, what you look like, as long as you are wearing an appropriate amount of clothes. And even then, some girls struggle to abide by that rule.

In a daze, I stumble to my bathroom, and again come face to face with my reflection. This time, I turn the mirror away so I don’t have to look at my ugly face as I clean my teeth and attempt to tame my unruly bed-head.

After plucking a random shirt from my wardrobe, squeezing into my checked jeans and slipping into my Converse, I head down the stairs and practically run out of the door with nothing except a faint mutter of ‘bye’ to my parents. But that doesn’t really matter, they don’t notice that I’m gone half the time anyway. To them, I’m just an annoying lodger that takes their food and uses their money to buy clothes when really I should have a job instead of living off of them.

“Oit Blossom.” Jace sniggers as he pulls his seat round to sit in front of me, leaning forwards whilst his so called ‘friends’ gather around him, like pack animals closing in on prey. “I bet you missed out beautiful faces over the summer.”

I ignore him and turn my iPod up louder. Blossom they called me, after one of the Powerpuff Girls.

After a year, you get used to it.

After a year, you also come to realize there is no getting away from Jace.

So I expect it when he yanks my earphones out of my ears and draws face to face with me.

“Its rude to ignore people Blossom.” He snarls, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. It’s only nine in the morning and he has already been drinking.

I attempt to get up, but of course he pushes me back down into my chair.

Sighing, I look him straight in the eye.

“What do you want Jace?” I mutter as his friends gather closer, allowing me no room to escape.

“Just some…..casual conversation.” He snickers then gets up, ruffling my hair, knowing how much it gets on my nerves. “We’ll leave the more….physical stuff for later.”

This causes me to shiver. I knew what was going to happen. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to enjoy what was in store, although I’m sure Jace will.

“KOTA! STOP!” I hear her shout as I storm out of the boys’ bathrooms. “DAKOTA MAGUIARE, STOP AND LOOK AT ME!!”

I stop, but I don’t turn around. I don’t want her to see the tears in my eyes.

“What Alice?” I quickly run the back of my hand across my eyes and then slowly turn around to face her, making sure not to make eye contact.

“What’s wrong? I haven’t seen you for a month and I don’t even get a hello?” I feel her warm hand on my arm and look down. “Kota, what’s happened?”

“It’s started already. I’ve been back one damn day AND I DON’T EVEN GET A BREAK!” I kick out at the lockers next to me and pull out of her vice-like grip on my arm.

“Kota….calm down…” She attempts but I just step further away.

“Why me? Am I just an easy target or something?! Of course, what has happened recently wasn’t enough! I can’t fucking deal with this right now! Sky… Sky…” I stop, a lump forming in my throat. I swallow a few times and it gets smaller, but it doesn’t disappear. It never does. “Why the fuck have they chosen me to have their fun with?”

“Just ignore them Kota…”

“IGNORE THEM?! HOW CAN I IGNORE THEM WHEN THEY’RE ALL UP IN MY FACE?!” At this sudden burst of fury, Alice shrinks away, tucking her bright blue hair behind her ears.

“Kota, listen to me.” I feel her hand on my arm again. “You need to calm down.”

“I’m fed up of it all Alice.” I cover her hand with mine. “I always get all of the shit, never anything good. If only Skylar…”

“Well Skylar isn’t here, is he?! He’s gone!” She doesn’t think about the words leaving her mouth. That much is obvious. I don’t need to see the shocked expression on her face to know that.

“Kota, I’m sorry…” She stutters, but I hold my hand up, stopping her from talking.

“You’re right. Skylar isn’t here, and he never will be again. He left, forever, and he isn’t coming back. I understand how he felt now. Whenever he talked about giving up, about life not being worth it any more, I thought it was just a phase. That it would all blow over. But he was serious, and now he’s gone. He didn’t even say goodbye…” I bite my lip. Talking about Skylar in the past tense, it isn’t right. He should still be here. I should have been better, more loving and less….  me.

Skyler was abused. Many, many times. Physically. Mentally. Sexually.

I always wondered why he was so hesitant, so distant with me, but he never told anyone. Mainly because the people you would tell were the ones causing the harm. His father hurt him. In the confines of his own home, he was abused by the only person he could look up to. His father was a drunk, run down widower who took his crap life out on his only remaining family member. Miserable git was meant to be there for his son. They were both meant to support each other in this hard time of mourning, but instead he turned to the bottle and never looked back. Never cared about his battered and bruised son. Never apologised.

Skyler went to a clinic to deal with his mother’s death. To deal with the depression. I knew about the depression. But never how serious it was. And nothing I ever did to try and help worked. Every day I kissed the scars on his wrist, hoping that they would disappear.

They never did.

We were told after his death that his psychiatrist had raped him many times. So on top of all the other crap that kept bombarding Skyler, the one person that you are supposed to be able to go to, to receive help from, just makes it one-fucking-hundred times worse.

But because Skyler wanted everything to seem ok, he kept going to the meetings until it all became too much. And what’s worse? That evil prick wasn’t even convicted. Not enough evidence they said. It won’t ever happen again they said.

Well, it won’t to Skyler.

And the mysterious disappearance of Mr Macy the Physics teacher? Yep, you guessed it. He got dismissed and then arrested for rape.

And yet no one ever knew. Until Skyler explained everything in his suicide note.

But not once did it mention my name.

Not one goodbye, to anyone.

I look up at Alice again, my voice cold. Vacant of feeling. I lost all feeling the day I lost the most important person in my life.

“And I wouldn’t have said goodbye to me either. I couldn’t help him when he needed me most. In all those times when he needed me, I just brushed him aside. And now that I am in the same position, I realise how much everything truly hurts, because now it’s happening to me. I’m the next victim in a line of victims. I’m not worth a goodbye.” 

Click here to read a review of Leah's Story
<![CDATA[One Bad Day - A film by Josh Crooks]]>Sat, 01 Mar 2014 22:32:49 GMThttp://imwithgeekarchive.weebly.com/creative/one-bad-day-a-film-by-josh-crooks
One Bad Day follows on from The Killing Joke by Alan Moore and A Death In The Family. It sees the Batman finally cornering The Joker. The Joker has gone too far, having ruined the lives of Jason Todd and The Gordon’s. Mocking Batman, The Joker is pushing our non-violent hero to the brink. The question is, how far is Batman willing to go? Would he compromise his beliefs?

Check out our One Bad Day review, now!
<![CDATA[Remembrance of The Doctor]]>Sat, 16 Mar 2013 00:49:16 GMThttp://imwithgeekarchive.weebly.com/creative/remembrance-of-the-doctorPicture
By Michael Whiteley

The Doctor looked around his once full TARDIS. He let out a slight sigh of sadness and acceptance and headed to the main control console he used to prance and dance around with his best friends. He was a time traveler.  Or was at least; before New York. He was an adventurer, before the Angels took them away. He flicked the switches, pulled levers, pumped on the console. But he skipped hitting the bell that used to make his friends smile. 

"Not anymore" - The Doctor thought.

He slowly took off his tweed jacket and threw it without remorse onto the glass floor. 

"I should really return that...I got into a lot of trouble the last time I borrowed a patient's clothes" - He thought again, with a brief smile of remembrance

Alone. The hum and murmurs of the TARDIS' interior echoed this in his mind and in his hearts. Alone.

The bow tie that was once straight and perfectly formed around his neck was now slanted and crooked. He realized this whilst hurriedly looking at himself in the central column's reflected glass surface. He hastily discarded this onto the floor a few feet away from his stolen jacket.

"...and that, too" he said aloud, remembering that day of days.

As he continued circling the ships control console he found his eyes concentrating on two switches; one red, the other yellow.

"Ketchup and mustard!" He said, "never found out what they did, did we A..." His hearts sank. He realized, yet again that she was gone..."Nah..." he whispered in vain.

Where now would he go? He didn't care. Who to save now? It didn't matter. He was done. He was through. He was not The Doctor. Not anymore.

"Change" He said in a slightly uplifting voice "I need change… and renewal..." he continued; but how? Everything in the TARDIS reminded him of her and him. The typewriter on his console; the doors he held her out of at the start of their time; every inch and nook and cranny. From the smells to the noise, the floor to the ceiling; even the color scheme; rich in red and orange.

"Like her hair…"

He couldn't go on like this. Not now. Not even in the briefest shimmer of hope could he get over this. Just with a little decoration. He was fine by himself... He was. He could live all by himself and he would be fine. I mean his done it before why not again?

"I had a cat that time" His mind wrestled with itself. "It's fine. Who needs a cat when I've got a big old hat!" he continued, remembering the big silk crimson one Lewis Carroll gave him.

"Here you go Doctor" Lewis had said, "and thanks for convincing me my dreams are real!" He enthusiastically exclaimed as The Doctor, Amy and Rory pushed the doors to the TARDIS open after a "Ghastly incident involving The Land of Fiction, a sowing needle and a rather large golf club" the whispered back to himself with a grin on his face.

The grin quickly turned to a frown. They had gone. They really had gone. No re-writing history; no timey-wimey, rebooting business. This was it. Gone. Gone forever and this time he couldn't do anything about it.

"Blue" he quietly said as he began tinkering with his console yet again. "Smaller" he replied to himself;  "checked trousers, big hat - no one can stop me this time...I want a hat!" he was arguing with himself again "No! Stop it, Doctor!...Yes!...oh fine!"

He was finished with his console; finally! The environment around him slowly liquefied and dissolved into a grey space. Slowly, very slowly, the outline of a new console taking its place

"Give or take about..." He looked at his golden watch, "an hour?"...he sniffed and started unbuckling his braces.

He picked up what remained of his clothes. Walked slowly up the stairs leading to the wardrobe and looked over his shoulder. It was going; he’d already started now, no going back.

"Gotcha" he said, punching the air slowly.

He looked ahead. Never looked back even though he could hear his console room wheeze and churn into its new shape.

"Clouds; no one could find me there! HA!" He excitedly shouted; then pressed his fingers to his lips. The ghost of another abandoned life.