Originally published at benchiladaland. You can comment here or there.

 
Nadja and I were going to participate in #Inktober, but since so much of my art is based on the structure and not the inking itself, we’re just sorta doing #Drawtober.

I did two last night to catchup. The first one is a throwaway that was inspired by Nadja telling me to draw “a guy smashing a city.”

The second is the penultimate one in my recent and confusing series of me being abused by gravity and my own letters.

I’ve got very little else, because I had an entry planned for writing and then a filling tore out of the middle of a tooth, so now I’m hurty and about to go to the dentist.

Anyroad, here you go. The Wizard’s Lesson resumes next week, and the daily draws will continue.

Love,

benjamin

A guy smashing a city benchilada art
…and then he next-to-last-page of…

Things I Can't Draw Everything Ends

Long after I started writing about them, I finally know what the words "mo lan" in Mo Lan Devils stand for.

UNRELATED:

RottenTomatoes lists the worst-to-best comics movies of all time, from #94 to #1.

Discuss.
Argue.
But don't be jacknobs to each other.

Also, is it weird that I've never watched BATMAN AND ROBIN? I mean, I own the TURKISH STAR WARS, for heaven's sake...
Some of you have been asking for a Things I Can't Draw for a while now. SEE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE?!

A little while ago [livejournal.com profile] dryponder  started a Draw Supergirl Meme, much like the Batgirl one that I participated in.
Completely independently, I did a Dr. Strange one for [livejournal.com profile] zegas 's birthday and a Thing one for [livejournal.com profile] man_size  but this one really WINS the MOTHERFUCKING AWARD.

Anyway, here's the horror:

Holy Shit. This is...wow...this is...oh fuck, benjamin... )

This story is for [profile] groundbyground--and [profile] scud_o--because I'm so fucking far behind on e-mail and haven't gotten back to them about what I should be getting back to them about. Like with everybody else.

------------------         

            They start training us early.

            For example, flight doesn’t mean invulnerability. In fact, it usually doesn’t. Most fliers like to soar low so they can show off. This means a simple handgun has both the range and the power to take them down. Remember to aim ahead of a moving target. The pain from the wound is usually enough to bring them down at current flight speed, which is generally sufficient to kill or maim them upon impact. In the event that they manage to land, shoot them again. If the subject is unharmed by your initial shot, assume invulnerability and immediately hide your firearm. Chances are they did not see you. In any event, DO NOT RUN. "Heroes" like to chase people who run.

Should they choose to detain and/or search you, remind them that unless they are duly deputized officers of the law, you have no obligation to stay. If they attempt to make you stay, verbally document everything that is done to you. If they grab you by the shoulders, loudly state “Help me! Please witness this! I will describe what is happening to me! He has forcibly restrained me by grabbing and potentially damaging my shoulders! He has now grabbed my wrist, which is very painful! He has pushed me against a brick wall, and the back of my head has hit it rather hard! There is a chance that I have a concussion!” Unless it’s a major hero with a good attorney, this is usually enough to make them let you go.

Some will try to follow you. Again, loudly document their actions, that they are stalking you, using their obvious powers to intimidate you, that you are uncomfortable with their presence and feel threatened. Attempt to lose them in crowds, or enter a store and tell management that you are being followed by somebody and feel that you are in danger. Ask if they can phone the police while you can leave via their back door. When all is said and done, it's ultimately very easy to get away from most of them.

            That information alone took me a week to properly learn and execute. I leave The Program tomorrow, a year and a day after I got here.

            See you on the streets.

###

            “Whoa! I just barely got you! Relax and I’ll have you safely on the ground in a second.”

            Fuck. I’m thirty-five stories up, being cradled by a man in tights. And he’s going to fly me down so everybody can see up close and personal how Noble, the city’s biggest hero, saved my goddamned life. I can already hear the crowd cheering over the wind.

            “Don’t worry,” says Noble as we slowly descend, “As far as I’m concerned, you were up on the roof admiring the view when a wind current knocked you over the edge. If you want to disagree with me, go ahead, but I thought you should know what I’m going to tell them. I want you to know that there are always people, even people that have never met you, that care about you and want you to be safe.”

            “You don’t give a shit about me, you just care about saving me.”

            “Both, but I’ll take off as soon as we touch down. I don't want this to be about me, not when you’ve clearly got a lot on your mind.”

            “Sounds good,” I say as his feet gently settle on the ground

            “Here you go, sir,” he says, his voice not patronizing at all, as a few dozen people crowd around. “You need to watch yourself up there, though. The wind can whip around pretty unexpectedly up on those rooftops, I should know. Sorry I couldn’t save your binoculars.”

            He looks to the sky for a moment, his face suddenly stoic.

            “I’m afraid I can’t stay, friends. There’s trouble brewing across town.”

He starts to slowly lift off the ground like it’s nothing then turns to look me in the eyes, his face filled with what appears to be genuine concern.

            “Stay safe, everybody.”

            And off he goes, heading to fight some imaginary menace just so my feelings won’t be hurt. I gently excuse myself from the crowd—agreeing with them that it was amazing, and that I was very lucky, and that he really is such a nice guy—then head back inside.

            Not a bad last experience, that’s for sure. I head back to the elevator, knowing that he did what he had to do. I really appreciate it, but—

            Not everything is a cry for help, I think to myself, and press the button for floor thirty-five.

February 2019

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