Don’t forget that the Heroes Your Mom Threw Out Mini Bot Art Party is on June 10th! Ielle will be there selling a number of wares including some new art!  Can’t wait until the 10th?  Here’s a preview of what you can expect!  Enjoy!

 Here it is folks the most recent Ielle Palmer Short story.  Keep in mind that this is just a rough and it may be reworked a bit in the next few days, but please take a moment and let us know what you think!  (*the picture above is by Phil Noto, it inspired this piece to please take a moment to check out his work here, thanks!)

The Messenger - by Ielle Palmer (2012)

  The most important thing was discretion. He had waited a full twenty minutes in the cafe car before  making his way down the dimly lit sleeper car corridor. It was company policy to leave overnight safety lights. Insurance and what-not dictated it so; but more often than not the individual train conductors took it upon themselves to tone down the lights with masking tape and a leftover train stub crushed into the light’s metal fixture. This diffused lighting was a welcomed addition to sleeping customers and those like himself, who simply wished to pass unnoticed.

  It was early yet. Only a few of the cabin residents had called it an evening. Behind the doors he heard the muffled voices wrapping up their daily conversations and parents filling their offsprings’ heads with whatever tale was small enough to fit in the overhead bag. Passing another door, he caught a glimpse of a young woman resting a magazine on her distended belly. The door locked before he could see just what the magazine was, but he surmised that it was some sort of pregnancy related guide. He smiled at his fortune. Nothing was a vivid as the thoughts that would race through her hormonal mind. Even offbeat imagination of children couldn’t compete with the dreams a pregnant female could conjure. He made a mental note to make her the first stop.

  He pressed on.

  More and more minds were turning off now. All around him the cabins fell silent. The train rocked gently down the tracks breaking up the silence with the occasional sound of a train crossing alarm. The sleeper car was almost ready, but not quite. It was clear to him that he’d need a place to wait just a titch longer.

  He opened the door to the lounge and was greeted with the usual sights. A tired attendant cleaning the bar, a sagging businessman & loudly laughing female companion were gathered towards the back of the car. Every train offered these same subjects, and they were rarely a threat. Feeling a bit more at ease, he began the task of picking out his seat. It wasn’t until he was three rows in that he saw her.

  She sat there with one of the overhead reading lights quietly illuminating her raven black hair. Two large white headphones, the style seen only in 70s movies and radio stations, hung over her ears pressing her dark bangs tightly against her pale skin. And while she wore the clothes and face of a younger school girl, her gray eyes reflected back a very different tale. He noticed that her uniform offered no discernible emblem or crest, yet he had a strong feeling of familiarity when looking at its crisp blazer and well creased vest. Still this odd feeling of déjà vu was not the most unsettling thing about the young woman who was quietly looking him over. No, the masked bird calmly perched upon her gloved right hand was by far more menacing. It too seem to be looking at him, despite the hood which covered its head. The girl, seeing his gaze switch to her bird, calmly removed the oversized headphones from her ears and said, “Would you care for a seat?”

  He sat.

  There really was little choice. From the moment his eyes met hers, his intentions faded. A new obsession had struck him. It was her turn now. He held his breath as she took a moment to size him up. He could feel her eyes roving over him, observing his aging Doc. Martens; their scuffs repeatedly masked with cheap polish. From there her gaze rose upward to his pant legs. Few people wore black jeans anymore, but there was something that kept him from tossing them away. They were comforting and frankly the fans expected them. Her eyes moved on. He continued to hold his tongue as her eyes slipped slowly past his black t-shirt and heavy black pea-coat. It certainly wasn’t cold enough to call for such outerwear, but the coat had less to do with the elements and more to do with personal armor. A slight smile from her lips let on that she knew just how much he enjoyed hiding behind the coat’s upturned collar. He became more self-conscious when those gray eyes found his own hound-dogged face. His hand protectively shot up to his salt and pepper bird’s nest of a haircut, trying to push its unruly waves down against his head.

  “You can ask about Carl, if you’d like.” she said. Her voice was soft, just as you would expect. Suddenly the quiet awkwardness of moments before melted away and he felt so at ease.

 “Carl?”

 “You’re not the least bit curious about my companion here?”

 Ah. Carl. He smiled and leaned forward, “I’m just surprised that they didn’t demand you keep him in the luggage car.”

  The girl waved her hand absently, “I have my ways. My name is Iris.” he told her his name which she immediately informed him was, “…Unfortunate” and that it, “must have been hell on the playground.”

 “I did all right.” he said.

  The drunk woman in the back let out a loud snort and stumbled from her bar stool. Carl flapped one wing in her direction as if to silence her. Iris let him edge his way to the end of her hand and his hooded head turned to watch over the inebriated couple in the back.

  “So you have. You’re up to what now, four novels?”

  “You know my work?” this pleased him, “Well, it’s five if you count my work with Terri.”

  “I don’t.” her smile faded, “it isn’t truly your story now is it? But then, what of them are?”

  He froze. “Excuse me?”

  “But the short stories are the where you’ve really borrowed, haven’t you?” this was not a question. “one hundred and one published lies and here you are looking for more. Just how long did you think this would go unnoticed?”

  He swallowed hard. “How could you possibly -”

  “I imagine that you’ve also spotted the young mom to be in cabin H. I hear their dreams are so vivid, sometimes you can taste them. Is that true? Taste? In a dream? Amazing.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” he lied.

  “The thing is,” she said, ignoring him, “There’s a few of us who want to know how you’re doing it. It’s nothing new for the likes of us; but you’re not like us, now are you?” he said nothing. “you haven’t asked me who us is, so can I take your silence as confirmation that you exactly what’s going on here.”

  “Iris,” he rolled the name about on his tongue for a moment before adding, “the messenger.”

  The bird looked at him and he knew he was right. Iris laughed, “You’ve pissed off some important folks. You do know that, right?” she sat forward, adding, “Plagiarism is such a silly word, don’t you think? Let’s call it what it is, stealing.”

  “They’re images. Visions. Hardly concrete ideas, and I take them home. I-I just flesh them out. I breathe life into them. I wouldn’t call that stealing.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” she wet her lips, “Interesting. Please go on.”

  “There was this man…like you, but not like you.”

  “Like me, but not like me. My word, but you do know your way about the language. No wonder you’re a bestseller.”

  He began to shake. It wasn’t a tremble of fear or anger, but frustration. The words refused to come, how could he explain? He let loose a deep breathe, hoping to reassert himself in his failing conversation. “As I was saying, he was like you. He knew things. He saw me struggling. Do you have any idea just how the hell hard it is to get ahead in this business? Have you the faintest idea just how many of us there are out there, all trying to stand out from one another. And what can we do? We’re the umpteenth generation of writers wandering this world, it’s been done before. It’s all been done before. What would you have me do?”

  “Why, steal the dreams of your fellow man of course.” her soft voice had hardened.

  He knew he was on the losing side of it all, but he couldn’t stop now. She needed to know. “He said it would be ok. It doesn’t hurt them, you know. I just sit back and the thoughts, they just find me. No one gets hurt.” behind them, the attendant ran a bell from behind the tiny bar and announced last call. It seemed odd to him that he’d bother with the tradition what with only two real patrons. The businessman was propping up his companion now. She groaned and angrily swatted him off as he tried to stir her.

  “Do you have any idea what it is like to be dreamless?” he returned his attention to Iris. She had begun to untie the back of Carl’s leather hood. The tiny straps swung back and forth as she slowly slipped them free. “Imagine your life without your dreams. That time in which you conquer your fears, entertain the wildest of possibilities, or simply let go, gone. And it doesn’t return, son,” those old eyes held him fast. “once you take a person’s dreams, they’re gone. I ask you, do you honestly feel that such a thing is harmless?”

  He said nothing.

  Iris slipped the hood from Carl’s head and with a push, the falconer’s knot slipped free. The bird’s wings pushed outward, cutting into the stale air and his talons released. The man screamed.

  In Cabin H, the pregnant woman slept on. 

We’re coming along on the 1st short story/image challenge.  I hope to have something for you all by wednesday.  My original hope was Sunday, but alas i forgot mother’s day! *sidenote: Thankfully I remember in time FOR mothers day!

In the Meantime i’m getting the next image challenge ready.  If you’d like to vote for the one of the possible contenders, check out my facebook page (there’s a link off to the right here).  In the meantime i tease you with the following images.  ONE of these will be chosen and YOU could be part of that process, if you so choose! Enjoy!

My God, what the hell has happened around here?  

NOTHING, as you can see.  

My day job has put such a crimp in my creativity time lately that it’s been laughable.  Anyway i’m hoping to get back on my feet here and I’m jumping to with my latest attempt at a real deadline and I’ll be using you all as my personal taskmasters.  How am i doing this?  Well between the wonderful world of facebook and this tumblr page, my plan is to put out a new short story every two weeks.  Each story will be based upon a photo (which i will post PRIOR to the story’s completion).  And here’s the best part: you all can join in on the fun by posting your images up on my facebook page in hopes that i’ll choose your picture as my next inspiration!  Just shoot me a link to your image and please, let’s keep it clean.  I don’t mind writing a sex scene, but come on, do you really want to know what i think of your naked arse? I can be evil. 

Anyway, i thought it would be nice to start this whole thing off with an artist whom i’ve recently fallen head over heels in love with (don’t tell my boyfriend), Phil Noto.  It was a hard choice, but in the end his piece, “The Falcon” just seemed to keep calling me back.  So, enjoy the teaser and i’ll be back here in 2 weeks to reveal just what story cried out to me with this work.  

Recently I’ve had a lot of amazing events and opportunities come up, and because of that I just want to take a moment out and say thank you to those involved. Jared from Heroes your Mom Threw out Comic Shop has done some amazing stuff lately, including a Art Show and our first mini-con in Elmira and I can’t thank him enough. It’s been these shows that have helped me get some of my writing and artistic mojo back. Hopefully I’ll have more news regarding my writing come-back soon…but i shall say no more. What i will say is that i’m very excited to feel as though a new wave of creativity is flowing through me again. Perhaps this time I’ll make it to the shore!

So lately I’ve become enamored with what the Captain Morgan Advertising team has been coming up with. Talk about making the Captain fun and sexy again. And while i do miss the whole raise your leg and say “Got a little Captain in you?”; there is just something so much more appealing to seeing the Good captain in action. Don’t believe me? Check out these next few videos and tell me that you don’t think Jack Sparrow is a syphilis ridden scurvy dawg in comparison to the Mighty Morgan.

Enemy Ship Ad:


The Dish Scene - i can only imagine how the hell he got himself into this stuffy party lol!

The DD Ad - Once again the Morgan Ad gang seem to get that music is SUPER important. Iggy Pop’s the Passenger has never been so amusing:

Sooooo, It has recently come to my attention that the link to my Awesome Storm Justice 41 mini-series is no longer active. I know that the ASJ site is currently under re-construction (as they’re hoping to get new webisodes up soon), so in the meantime i’ve decided to host my Blazeguy/USA Kid mini series here. For those who have no idea who these characters please check out the ASJ site. They don’t mention in the bio that Blazeguy has had a crush on Mel (Aka Usa Kid) a member of his team (and stripper by night) for a while. While normally BG is a well-spoken man with a HUGE vocabulary, he seems to be incapable of constructing sentences around Mel and constantly stutters. What he doesn’t realize is that he has slowly been growing on Mel (who recently has been dating their arch enemy, Dennis Dennis III only to have called it off out of guilt for what she’s been doing behind her team’s back. BTW she dated him because the guy was loaded and good to her daughter, Gertie). Anyway, that should be enough background needed for this mini-sode. So please enjoy this, and hopefully I’ll have more webcomic info coming your way soon!

Well baby has had her first comic con BEHIND the booth and what a blast!  I have to give a quick shout out to all of you who stopped by the booth to say hi today.  I was blown away by the turn out that our small newborn con received.  It was truly amazing stuff.   Right now I am ridiculously exhausted, so I’ll do another update later for those who were not there, but i will say this, It was amazing.  I am still riding the high from having my first four commissions and getting invited to the an after party/dinner for the artists.  Today’s event also culminated in some new developments for a webcomic project of mine, that i was sure was near death.  I can’t say more about that now, but i promise that once I get my bearings again, I’ll be dropping a LOT of hints about it ASAP!