Also for #makeaterriblecomicday2026, here’s something from back when I was in college. It’s old and unfinished and shitty but idk. I still rather like it
Bluejay
@azure-clockwork.bsky.social
61 followers 42 following 821 posts
she/her | my theme is random fucking bullshit | they say I’m an adult, apparently I am being dead serious when I say I made an account because I saw some hannemanuela yuri
![That guy standing in the corner meme. He’s saying “They don’t know that i [sic] want to fuck that ~~old man~~ Hot pope”. The dancing couples are saying “YES WE FUCKING DO” and “YOU NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT”](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:cyyht6pmqhswfru3kc3pr26c/bafkreiciyztrp7ln2cv7nejymwbtnhrhzwkt4bjdmlw2ryqqthvv6k7ra4)
![Alt text misaligned for character count reasons
You stumble down Judah’s hidden stairwell and into the lab, half blind with pain and still with no clue why. The door, the goddamn [replace] door— You can still see the afterimage of the blueprints against the back of your eyelids, bright, searingly bright. The voice still rings in your ears—your own, or maybe your father’s—insisting that you come here. You try to steady yourself against a table and try to breathe through the pain. It’s all you can do to stay upright.
Judah looks up from his work—something spread out across the lab tables and soldering bench—as you stagger in, but he doesn’t put down the soldering iron. “Junia, what did you do,” he says, not really a question. He sounds more exasperated than concerned.
“I don’t know—the one with the gun showed me something—” You watch your knuckles go white as you clutch at the edge of the table, trying to find stable ground. “Judah, please, I—why does it hurt?”
Judah shoves a stool rolling in your direction before crossing the lab to dig through a drawer. “Take a seat,” he tells you. “You’ll be fine in a second.” He pulls something out—a round, flat thing, small enough to fit in your hand. “Here,” he says, and tosses it to you. “Press the button and put this on the back of your neck.”
“What—“ you try to ask, but the minute you touch the puck, it’s suddenly too familiar. Your vision goes black around the edges, and another wave of horrible deja vu rolls over you. The door—the seal—your father—lacuna— You wind up on your knees before you realize your legs had given out. Your head screams with pain, enough that the table leg in front of you spins with it.
“I told you to sit down,” Judah says, too calm. “Button, back of your neck.”](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:cyyht6pmqhswfru3kc3pr26c/bafkreieigrsdcl3q7qluzmth2g6ien23i4vcdnwpaavgmaf2fdr5wqrkbu)
