SCRIBES & SCRIBBLERS

SCRIBES AND SCRIBBLERS

Illusrations by Josh Aldrich B. Diola Perlyn Joy L. Suganob Mikey Vincent T. Vicente

Words by Hana Patricia Raj E. Hautea Immalie Rose E. Cafifge Ferry Lyra B. Fronda Zaldy Mar L. Lavada Jr. Ej Nell Voen A. Florendo Krizzia Ricci T. Nepomuceno Gabriel M. Lezama Adrianne H. Saplagio

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1. Ma. Kristine Joy R. Bayadog (Camcorder) Click. Whirr. Flash. The red light is strobing. The camera is rolling. Remember, the eyes only see what you limn in the refurbished brass cylinder. Frame your commercial faux-charm fired by your gleaming Versailles blue-gold eyes. Everything would appear in pixels in no time. Acts captured in a glass— memory is born. Okay, we’re good. 2. Karl Brian T. Marqueza (Film Lights) The sleek silver angle-poise light incepted from the sturdy boom was in style— albeit austere. It dappled a mosaic of light, directing its saccharine beam. The scene was so dashing that it started to fuse with everything subsisting, glittering, and reverberating. Ecstatic and chaotic, the photons are liberated where gravity has no way of making them fall.

3. scythe (Microphone) “Aughstyero. Wharmyleon. MmMmMm. Augheom aum. Kkkkkkkk. JHAaughhhhhhh. Awk owaghe. Yea. Owouwe.” Hidden pieces of wisdom can only be obtained if one pays close attention to the mesmerizing sounds of foam being shoved down one’s pharynx.

4. Ivee E. Manguilimotan (Makeup Kit) Of maidens and warriors she is familiar, for she is both. With a swipe of crimson on her lips, a touch of mauve on the apples of her cheeks, and a slew of prismatic hues on her eyelids, she builds herself a new identity and a new story at the whim of her stained fingertips. Ever shifting and ever searching, she paints her face with delicate shields that have never once failed to defend her.

5. kallisto (Spotlight) The faintest tremor. A singular bead of iridescent sweat. Quicker puffs of hot breath. Thus were the only subtle giveaways of this long-practiced practitioner as he flung his arms outwards to the thundering applause. While the unforgiving glare of the heavy spotlight blinded his fellow thespians, it was no match for the grinning madman.

6. The Pawn (Clapboard) Clack. His own eyes widened as the sound emanating from him brought the whole room to a grinding halt. This was the 20th time they were repeating the scene, and with previous errors in mind, there was nothing left but confidence and determination. This would definitely be the final time they would rehearse this. He smiled in anticipation as he produced that ever-familiar pang one last time.

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7. Lz (Tripod) The panorama captured in my vantage point flashes through the prisms ferreting into the depths of the figures. Crash! A dramatic whack yanked one of my legs out from underneath me. The proclivity to fold was trounced by my virtuosity to keep it all stable for my cherished baggage. This is what I do: always the silent witness in the battleground.

8. Patrick N. Billojan (Light Reflector) What am I but a vessel? A prism of ivory hues bouncing back and forth to crown a monarch. A sliver of flesh stretched to echo a dim silhouette above peers. But now, dressed in white silver, white noise, and white overtures beyond the curtains, I stand with my chin raised and flaunt my lights across the stage.

9. Kynah Rhea B. Fuentes (Producer) Oh God, not her again. Whispers laced with malice echoed as the producer walked by, back straight as a pin and chin raised stubbornly high. Brushing past the insignificant murmurs, she tossed her hair behind her shoulder extra aggressively for the haters before heading to do what she does best: keeping the production alive.

10. Alan S. Villanueva Jr. (Construction Crew Member) People’s eyes are glued to their phones as he passes by—indifferent, unaffected, and uncaring. He grips his trusted toolbox tightly in his hand, the rattling contents providing him with a sense of security; a sense of home. He smiles despite the distance, knowing that his hands shaped the massive skyscrapers that towered over society. He smiles, knowing that his very essence is immortalized in his work.

11. Krizzia Ricci T. Nepomuceno (Key Grip) Framed in the foliage of briars and myrrhs, of skylines and contrails, she beholds the panorama of all things: the suburban mailmen, the sorority schemes, and the atrocities of the metro’s underbelly. An omniscient witness—the border to the fourth, a voiceless phantom, and most of all, an amnesiac with free will.

12. Carl Hason Gerale (Art Director) Before him was a painting; “A masterpiece by a young upstart,” as his associates say. With a blank canvas on hand, it only takes a few simple strokes to recreate the striking artwork in detail. They stare in astonishment as the artist smiles and gives himself a pat on the back.

“Ahhh, their reactions are just as amusing as last week’s.”

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13. Bjørn (Runner) Scurrying along the stygian byways, prosaic colloquy, and bustle make my hours drip: a war on track. The wreathed mayhem on the towering limelights left no traces, but vision conjures as my blood curdles on command. I am attuned to succumbing to the faintest cues. They have built a willful wretched performer waiting for stillness. Applaud for me too, will you?

14. Anna Maria J. Villanueva (The Screenwriter) She does not know the power she holds at her fingertips. The clack-clack-clack of her keyboard in the silent midnight air births and destroys entire realities aching to exist amid the fickle appetite of a voyeuristic audience. Nevertheless, she continues. God and Devil to her own personal Eden in the cosmos of her mind—searching for the perfect collision of words that creates life.

15. Kyle Jobe B. De Guzman (Film Editor) Click, click. The soft, distinct sound of his mouse echo quietly across the room as he controls the perspective of the masses, illuminated only by the light of the screen. He pauses to take in all the probable possibilities he can achieve with only a few seconds as he weaves stories from thousands of captured, fleeting moments. Should we show the people the beauty of life or the agony it entails? What is it going to be today?

16. Joshua Martin P. Guanco (Set Dresser) He revels the weight of silken textiles and hollow wood slats—the gadget of an injured handyman. His hands were heavy with guilt, hidden behind calluses and wounds. He created the sky first, and then the mountains. But on a whim, at God’s command, he tore everything down and built a throne of fire.

17. Depravity (Line Producer) Control (n.) is defined by the contours of a man’s will; it is when he raises his fingers to touch the moon. Controlled (v.), to wax and wane the rising tides; here, he owns everything within the light beams. He is calm as a heavenly body but bluntly reaps the liaison of reality and the stage—he has mastered the art of gravity.

18. Immalie Rose E. Cafifge (Maria Nunez from West Side Story) From flitting over the slopes, cays, and palm breezes, an opioid it was to breathe the urban air around the skyscrapers stabbed on the horizon. For her, surrendering chastity to the breaches of the Great Migration was an act of youthful esprit. But as there is beauty in her dignified naivety, she’s as likely to commit great follies.

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19. Phoebe Daidoji Q. Jabonete (Angelica Schuyler from Hamilton) Under the chandelier’s pristine glint, her incandescent hope tarries west of the sun. I wonder, does she remember the night she swore to take the bullet for her beloved sibling? And when she does, is undying love deeper than the regret of an eldest sister? Perhaps, the answer remains a fervent ‘YES.’

20. Daisy St. Patience (Mrs. Lovett from Sweeney Todd) Hush, my love; don’t cry, for this is not a lullaby. You are a quintessential brainiac like your spirit, unrelenting pursuit of what it yearns to be, yet menacingly close to delirium. Face the blank wall of nescience for solace is a standing séance. Baked body drifting, you are a sweet freefall from the bloody lure.

21. Guts (Sweeney Todd) The blood running through his veins hums with a scarlet song that beckons the razor’s edge to take its deserved piece. Gleaming in the moonlight, his only friend swings its final arc to the crescendo of vengeance’s beating drum. With a swift and graceful stroke, he etches his promise into a stranger’s jugular and satiates his hunger with the melody that keeps him alive.

22. Meryl C. Sigaton (Anya from Anastasia) “Dancing bears. Painted wings. Things I almost remember.” – Once Upon a December With eyes closed, her slender physique churns with the unfamiliar tune of these empty halls—prancing to the trail of a forgotten morrow. Her bare feet led curiosity past the clandestine voile as flaccid porcelain sheets draped on the marble floors. At long last, the ‘almost’ is at the tip of her fingers.

23. Esther Joyce M. Limbaña (Sophie Sheridan from Mamma Mia!) An upfront beacon of light that you’re not afraid to avoid. Your pride and defenses crumble against the sun-drunken hair stirred by the light summer air, her seawater smell laced with salt and pomegranate, and her chime-like rippling or sometimes rock-grinding surf voice. Her nonchalance would make you feel like a leaf in its softest fall.

24. Ma. Micah Dearielle V. Trajera (Elle Woods from Legally Blonde) A rose-colored cloud catwalks court-bound in customized couture; case files and Cosmopolitan centerfolds cling unto her Calvin Klein, clipped into place by cosmetic clutter. Pink, pampered, but never short of wit, she once rubbed shoulders with valedictorians at the gates of Harvard. Her only edge? She has no Plan B.

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25. JK (Eponine from Les Misérables) Ah, cruel fate—forcing a woman to break her own heart in exchange for the happiness of her oblivious love, their love like daggers thrust into her being. Her devotion is unwavering, but she is consumed by her emotions. She eventually sees her life drain from her as she stains the ground red. She gives him her everything, but his heart belongs to someone else. The heavens are weeping.

26. Hana Patricia Raj E. Hautea (Vitruvian Man by Leonardo Da Vinci) Celestial and astral bodies aligned during The Man’s creation. Perfection crowned His curls as every geometric precision of His limbs presented nature’s architectural prowess in achieving divinity in flesh. He displayed humanity’s acme with every angle and turn—and with pride befitting a king—the potential of sublime glory.

27. Sparrow (Ophelia by John Everett Millais) Submerged in icy waters, shrouded by flora of beautiful greens, reveling in the foreign buoyancy of her garments, immersed in her highest element, unbothered by the odd stray leaf that wandered onto her exposed skin, untroubled by tomorrow’s concerns, convinced there was no greater moment than this exact moment.

28. Jaziel Ann Seballos (The Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh) I’ve painted the living and the dead—all the Zinnias, all of my shells, all the sides of the infinite cosmos. Yet somewhere in the blues birthed by my linen sheets and the pale beige of my nurse’s blouse, I yearn for a paintbrush hilt. My missing muse, after all, was the Mausole itself.

29. paradoxica (The Persistence of Memory by Salvador Dali) An amused smile: “You look absolutely deflated. Like a gassed-out balloon, if you will. Or a cute dog that flopped to the ground. Tell me—why are you laying on the floor like that?” A half-hearted response: “Do you want the real answer or should I make something up?” A deadpan look. A candid shrug: “I just saw it and thought it was cool.”

30. Ferry Lyra Fronda (The Scream by Edvard Munch) ‘Tis the one-man rapture: my ashen skull, a sister’s ribbon, and the sunless golden hour. The lunatics were right: it’s anything but human, anything but heaven-sent, anything but unreal. Should I scream now, it will be heard for centuries to come— my calvary, immortalized in strokes of ochre and vermillion.

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31. Keilah N. Baldomar (Café Terrace at Night by Vincent van Gogh) She sat still on her pedestal as the lights flickered on. Darting her gaze around, she locked eyes with several onlookers, who only glanced at her first but soon found themselves encapsulated with her beauty. A man whispered to his lover: ‘This one reminds me of the time when you’d call me for dinner somewhere, and we’d talk for hours about anything.’ She smiled, knowing that her existence invoked unforgettable memories from before.

32. Perlyn Joy L. Suganob (Girl with a Pearl Earring by Johannes Vermeer) Her black glass eyes seem to veer away or turn towards you. Had her lips—a polished bright scarlet—already committed an unpardonable error, or are they about to pronounce the greatest sentence of all? In yellow lake and ultramarine, her oriental turban snatches the tiniest sights of familiarity into an envelope, all to remain as a mid-sentence swivel.

33. naicha (Sunshine in the living room by Peter Vilhem Ilsted) In a sparse room that smells of daybreak sits a young girl, quiet and contemplative. Do not mistake her demureness for weakness nor her silence for naivete. You do not see what she does as she peers into the looking glass bathed in golden light; a luminescent corona of the sun’s rays lies on her head, crowning her the queen of her realm. Tranquil and serene, she commands the air as she commands herself—with beauty and peace.

34. Josh Aldrich B. Diola (Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel) The dead silence of a skyscape romance is a Lothario’s purgatory, but where he lies bare and contorted from beneath the church bells is the enactment of man’s first disobedience. In utero, in morte, in the terrestrial morality of heaven, he revels in nothing but the beauty of sin—the dissonant transgression of becoming god.

35. Drexel John N. Amit (Spoliarium by Juan Luna) The alewives have soaked the bloodbath in their stola; the collaterals of the Roman nirvana have been lined up; and the widowmakers are back slouching on the dais. Everyone has done their part. But alas, the Tiberian tides never ran red, for the macabre menagerie lets not a single drop go astray.

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