Sketchbook pg.2

(These are just quick sketches, so don't complain to me about line quality, form, etc. Pen and Ink, 25 min. Super rough quality due to the fact that I was just working on fun expression stuff...)

This one needs a bit of explanation...

At the time the main storyline of 'Phantasm' is set, Dan and Molly are (un?)happily married and living in the business district of Figment City. With the escape of the rogue bogeyman Mariuss Swift and the subsequent backlash against the phantasm community, the two of them have been running all over the dreamscape trying to set things straight. Both are very high-ranking bogeymen with considerable power in the Figment syndicate, but success does not always bring with it happiness. Molly was once a very talented field bogeylady, but has since moved on to work as head of the public-relations department. Now she bumps elbows with Quixotia's high-society crowd and tries to buy Figment some favors through flattery, fibs, and general schmoozing. (Which, by the way, she's quite good at). Dan, as the head of Figment's legal department, spends his time apprehending criminals, doing his fair share of investivagative work, and avoiding getting killed like the majority of his predescesors. The two of them operate in their own separate arenas, far removed from one another until they finally head home for the morning.

Molly's greatest frustration is that she has to attend most social functions alone, and that her husband often comes home at some ungodly hour in the morning with some creature's jawbone, claws, arrow, sword, horn, bullet, cracked bust of Plato, etc. lodged in the lumbar region of his spine. It seems like every day he tracks swamp mud into the living room, neglects his wounds and ends up bleeding on the dining-room table while composing a subpoena, or cheerfully says 'good morning' and offers to fix breakfast while trying to exorcise a particularly agressive lesser-demon from his foot. You just can't start a family in that sort of environment.

Dan meanwhile, is saddened by the fact that his wife is more concerned with the appearance of the carpet than with the fact that he has a unicorn horn/peryton antler/chimaera fang/etc. protruding from his chest. Also, when a bogeyman has a potentially fatal neurotoxin pumping through his system, you'd like to think that one of his loved ones would head for the kitchen cabinet to get the antidote for it, not complain about the fate of his ruined formalwear. Dan would also like to spend a nice private evening at home over being dragged off to every single party in a 100 mile radius. He's a bit more reserved with his affections (strong as they are) than his wife, and would rather not have her force him into displaying them for the sake of her repuation. Occasionally sitting down for breakfast without discussing the latest political gossip would be perfectly acceptible compensation, but he can't even convince her to do that. You just can't start a family in such a hectic environment.

The situation above would read something like this, or some other variation of Molly getting upset and Dan apologizing profusely:

Fig. 1-

Molly: Dan! Where have you been? It's eight in the morning, and we were supposed to leave for the St.Hubris station an hour ago. Jesus, look at you! We just can't leave the house like this.

Dan: Molly, please understand...When Hartley typed up the briefings for this evening, he left out several pertinent details. One very important 's', for instance.

Molly: *cutting him off* One 's' and you're an hour late?

Dan: *tired sigh* The difference between 'Manticore' and 'Manticores' is a very great one.

Molly: *shaking her head* Look at you...just look at you. That's the fifth jacket you've ruined this month.

Dan: *cringing* In all fairness, dearest, it wasn't me who ruined this jacket.

Fig. 2-

Dan: *wheezing, sweating, but still reasonably calm* Oh lord...I believe one of my lungs just collapsed.

Molly: *rolls eyes* Oh for God's sake...you just have a couple of stingers lodged in your spine.

Dan: *gasp* I...I think we still have some antiseptic in the kitchen. Would you mind fetching that for me?

Molly: We ran out last week.

Dan: *getting nervous* Some tweezers, a needle, and a good length of thread then please...

Molly: I hardly think that's going to help. Do you know how many kinds of bacteria Manticores carry? Man-eaters are always the filthiest. Even if we do stitch up the wounds, they're just going to get infected. I told you we needed to go shopping on Sunday.

Dan: *eyes go unfocused* ...Wait...What?...Oh yes, of course, dear...Tuesday...that sounds lovely...*eyes film over*

Fig. 3-

Molly: Are you even listening to me, Mr.De'Corpus. It seems like every time I open my mouth you go catatonic.

Dan: *comatose*

The saddest part about the situation is that they would otherwise get along very well without the added stress of having to salvage Figment's ruined reputation. Dan desperately wants Molly to be happy and Molly desperately wants to be happy, but that isn't likely to happen so long as there are still rogue monsters to be caught and politicians' pockets to pick.