A Summary of This Comic, for Those with Some Free Time:
Satan adores the adorableness of his cat. Charcoal is so cute, Satan wants to squish Charcoal’s little face. And he does. Which is a problem because Satan, in fact, did not want to squish Charcoal’s little face.
While holding hand-mashed cranium, Satan is shocked, worried his sick gains have ended his healthy cat. Then Charcoal’s voice calls out: “Hurrah!”. The feline’s disembodied head reforms in the air while his disem-headed body stands up and tries to crawl into Satan’s lap. You’d think a pet-owner would be happy with a not-dead pet, but Satan’s smile appears to be broken. He slowly lays down as Charcoal, oblivious, doles out the nuzzles. Satan goes fully horizontal, which Charcoal takes as an invite to Sleepytown. From Charcoal’s perspective, he gets pats and naps. That’s a great day for a cat.
Later, Death happens upon them both, deeply concerned to see the demon holding his cat’s head and body... in separate arms. Satan assures him the cat is sleeping. He might need a doctor, but his cat is just fine.
End Summary
I’ve been kicking this one around in my head since I posted it. I couldn’t put my finger on why it felt off. However, like a tyop you only notice once you hit “Reply”, a few things stuck out once I posted it. Notes to self:
- It's sad to see kitty get smooshed. It doesn’t matter that he’s okay.
- It’s no fun to see Satan get punished for being a loving cat-dad.
- The core of the humor in these Charcoal comics is this: normal pet-owner experience on a cosmic scale. Charcoal summons Satan (to give him scritches). Charcoal hunts a rodent (that is also a mirror god). This one doesn’t really fit. In real life, being pet too hard doesn’t result in the cat being happy. This strip isn't an exaggeration grounded in a recognizable cat-owning experience, which is part of what's making it hard to follow. It's surreal, and it's not surreal on purpose.
- Draw a background, pussy.
So, this strip is the 7th in my comic This is Charcoal. It stars Charcoal, the cat with the brain of a cat and the power of a god, alongside Satan, cosmic cat-dad. It has its own take on Hell and all that, but we haven't seen all the details yet.
Also,
strong-jawed, jacked Satan
muscular yet not threatening man with bisexual vibes
I genuinely thank you both these words. No joke, I have been turning myself inside-out with Satan's design, wondering if others would describe him the way I would. "Maybe he's too femme. Maybe he's not femme enough. Does he need more biceps? WHAT COLOR SHOULD HIS NAIL POLISH BE!?". I finally calmed down.
Thanks to everyone for their responses. It really helps to know this stuff. And it sounds like you helped each other as well. I love when that happens!
What is the culture like on the islands, prior to Moche colonization? What about after?
Here's mine:
I don't think I had ever run that fast before in my life. It was Christmastime and all the runners were given jingle bells. At the time, I was still a beginner and I was used to stopping frequently throughout my runs. So I'm jogging, lots of people passing me, I'm also passing others. It's pretty cool. Then a kid passes me. Then another. And some more.
That's cool too, I expected that. There are bound to be elementary school children faster than I am. What I didn't anticipate was how many would keep pace with me.
I was tired and wanted to stop running. Then I looked down to find myself adrift in a sea of babies. I remember kids falling during laps in my formative years. Stampedes! Pile-ups! Only disaster could follow my stopping. They'd trample me, they'd trip, and we'd all fall down. Other races would have to avoid a tumbleweed made of a 4th grade classroom and what they assumed was the teacher, all going jingle-jingle-jingle. I dare not trust the coordination of myself and these cookie-fueled chaos factories. I had to keep running!
Anyway, eventually they split away from me and the rest of the race is a blurry lung-burn-y memory. I got a cookie and a finisher though.
So, what's your 1st race story?
On the subject of how to word your question, perhaps this: "If you had the chance to permanently become neurotypical, would you take it?"
I personally would not since I don't see a reason too. Being NT wouldn't get rid of my problems, it would just give me different ones. I may have to work to produce facial expressions, but neurotypical people have to work to control theirs. If I'm in a situation where it would be inappropriate to laugh and something funny occurs, I can just not. I once sat quietly through a hilarious funeral. Family told me I was "serious", "respectful".
Anyway, being NT provides a "feel" for all the little rules of social interaction that I learn manually. But I'd still have to follow those rules or face the consequences of violation. I'm already autistic, may as well keep it that way.
On the right, the auspicious maneki-neko. On the left, the calamitous nekomata. And below, the bakeneko. She sings.
To enhance your reading experience, imagine this, but annoying.
