Van Anh Chu25 February 2019
You’re reading Hellboy in Hell—cornered in a pocket of the Brunswick library—the collected trade paperback of the original comics run. Hellboy is in Hell, because. He falls as a beating heart through the mouth of a petrified giant.
The holiday starts when we follow a white cat named Jennifer into the Faewild. In the backstory, Andi has been trying to catch her; she’s been cohabiting with Emily Dickinson in secret. We don’t remember the mechanics of entering the Faewild. It’s verdant and as bright as a Lisa Frank drawing.
Maybe the internet is a history machine. Much under the surface. I remember clicking a page of one-on-one RPG blogs: two friends/writers for Something Awful documenting their campaigns for lulz.
So. Emily Dickinson—who may not resemble Emily Dickinson—is closing her eyes in the garret she rents from her boss. We agree there’s nothing much in her room. A bed. A chest of drawers and facsimile crucifix. A chair—the dress she arrived in slumps over its back, caked in sewage.
So. The premise is there are three planar components to the multiverse. The inner planes are the houses of elementals: dimensions of the spirits, and energies that set the universe going like a fat gold watch. There are dimensions here for the elements, for matter and antimatter, and however many smaller planes for all the forces that roll through the cosmos.
Some people store collectibles in shoe-boxes, but for me I need a boot-box to store my rocks.
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