Demanufacture

Doodle of Bejel (left) with BB. Just trying some different outfits. New color art coming tomorrow! Some more story/lore for this pair:

She was the final piece of Hell-Hole’s jagged puzzle, the last to join and the only one who’d had to audition. The others-- Oroya (rhythm guitarist & founder), Mala (bass guitarist newbie picked by Oroya) and Bejel (lead guitarist and resident schemer) --had stumbled into each other’s lives through dive bars and late-night fights. But BB? She’d answered a flyer taped to a liquor store window, her hands trembling as she dialed the number.

Oroya leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her blue eyes tracking BB’s every beat. The girl was a machine. Hard-hitting, relentless, each strike landing like a hammer on an anvil. Consistent. Oroya was impressed but it was Bejel, all sharp grins and sharper ambitions, who sealed the deal. Not because of BB’s drumming, though it was solid enough. No, Bejel’s eyes lit up when she learned BB pulled in decent cash from her day job. “She’s got coin.” Bejel had muttered to Oroya, her voice low and conspiratorial. “We need that. Touring ain’t cheap.”

BB, oblivious to the scheming, was just thrilled to be there. She’d taught herself drums by hammering along to scratched CDs of Pantera and Sepultura until her wrists ached and her hands trembled. Covers were her language. She could mimic anything with eerie precision after hearing it but ask her to write an original part and she’d freeze, her sticks hovering like a deer in headlights. Oroya noticed it during their first practice, her brow furrowing as BB stumbled through a new song’s rhythm. It should’ve been a deal breaker.

Bejel just laughed, flicking ash from her cigarette onto the stained carpet. “Who cares?” she purred, her voice sharp with mischief. “We don’t need a composer. We need a drummer ‘cause I can’t shred and do blast beats at the same damn time. So be a good doggy and follow my lead, alright?” Her words were a command, not a suggestion,. BB nodded, her stony face glowing with something like relief.

She didn’t mind Bejel's indifference or any whispered plans to milk her paycheck. BB was just happy to be useful, to feel the kick drum pulse through her bones, to belong to something louder than her own doubts.

*In addition to the usual weekly line-art and color art, I will be including bonus sketches! These sketches are just a bit of fun/practice and (probably) won't progress past the sketch stage. *