11390/Drawing Conclusions

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Drawing Conclusions
Date of Scene: 29 May 2022
Location: The Daily Bugle
Synopsis: At the Daily Bugle, a bigwig arrives to speak to Jonah. But in the background his daughter and a cartoonist bond.
Cast of Characters: Rebecca Ryker, Hyperion




Rebecca Ryker has posed:
It's another working day at the Bugle. Mark Milton is in his area, waiting to get some report or other, when a group of people pass by. Bigwigs mostly, talking far too loudly as they do. They love to hear themselves talk.

"I want a front page spread." "You can't have one. We've got it set up for that Spiderman debut, you know how.." "There's nothing in the news but that weird.." "Seven pages of idle garbage." They appear to be trying to work out a place for some form of upcoming event's advertisement, or something of that sort.

Then a voice speaks over them all. "You'll place it in the bottom right of page one. Full spread inside, pages two and three." They all quiet when he speaks, a tallish caucasian man with a moustache and goatee. He sounds like he expects them to do as he says.

And...they agree. As they move past, the Bugle bigwigs go along with whoever this is. But nobody notices the girl, trailing behind. Quiet, small. Nobody, but a tagalong. She looks sad and neglected.

Hyperion has posed:
    I mean, it's not like Mark is a real reporter. He just draws cartoons. Sure, his work has had more political leanings of late. He's also done a handful of weekly releases that showcase local small businesses and draw attention to them... hopefully giving them a bit more business.

    But he doesn't do stories so much as just doodle and sketch for a living.

    One benefit of this is that he is a -very- fast sketch artist. So when he notices the neglected girl... he lifts a hand to adjust his unneeded glasses before giving her a lopsided grin. And it's only a matter of a few moments before he's sketched her up in some generic superhero outfit, making her look badass with guys in suits, obviously executives like the ones who just went past in masks and looking all evilnastybad(tm).

    Then he gestures to her and points at his work like he is offering to share some big secret of the universe with her.

Rebecca Ryker has posed:
The little lady, not even five foot tall (closer to four), looks in as he's drawing. So she's still there when he finishes, the group having put aside for coffee and arguments. She looks at Mark a moment, then at her father. He's ignoring her, his back completely turned as he indicates where and when and how, a dictator born.

So she leans in, and with shy little eyes, she puts a finger on her lips. Shh, apparently. She can't talk, and her eyes glance to 'dad' again worriedly. But she inches into Mark's area, to look. It seems that a child's curiosity is still active, even if her parents are kinda dicks.

Hyperion has posed:
    As she sneaks in and peeks, Mark's pencil seems to dance over the paper, almost like magic. At the indication that he should be quiet, he hunches his shoulders and acts like it's all a grand secret. I mean those shoulders are pretty broad. But still..

    He draws on one side the page... a big stylized S, then the Spider-Man symbol, and then a few others before pointing her way and then at the symbols. Basically one of those... which is -your- favorite?

Rebecca Ryker has posed:
"What?" she asks, blowing her own rule right away. She frowns, her face screwing up a bit as she peers at the page. Then she turns, to look at Mark himself. Her eyes track left, right, then they widen and she makes the classic 'OH!' face expression.

With a pause, she shrugs. She looks so very serious, before she pulls out her celphone. Whispering, she says very, very softly, "None of those." Then she flips through her photos, and then with both hands she proudly holds out a picture of her chosen hero toward Mark.

It's...nobody? No, it's definitely someone. A short-haired woman with auburn hair, wearing a space suit. The pic is one of Anne McClain, one of America's female astronauts. She looks so happy. But yes, apparently this little girl thinks that a normal engineer who had the guts to go into space...is her hero.

Hyperion has posed:
    Nodding his head, Mark grins. Then he whispers, "Good choice. She really is a hero." And then he begins to work. What he is drawing... faster than he really should be drawing mind you. Sometimes he gets so fixated on the work that he forgets to slow down.

    Anyhow, what he is drawing looks like a stylized space suit but for someone of a smaller stature. Then another full sized suit. With tether lines attached to the ISS.

    He saves the faces until last, but when he is done... mind you it is all black and white, but when he's done, it shows Ms. McClain and Becca herself giving a hi-5 to each other while doing a space walk outside the ISS. Floating in free fall of course because duh.

    That done, he pauses to look at it for a moment with a critical eye. Then he carefully tears the page out of his sketch pad and holds it out to give to Becca. "I'm Mark." he whispers conspiratorially.

Rebecca Ryker has posed:
Becca leans in, watching him use his writing utensil. She shifts, glancing up once more to see if she's been missed, but that is quickly lost to the mesmerizing actions that Mark is doing on the paper. "That.." she starts to say something, but it's lost in transition.

When he offers the page, she's staring openly. Her mouth hangs open just a little bit, having seen him move and being young enough to believe in magic. Also, who'd believe her anyway? "Becca," she says as she takes the paper in her hands. She looks at it, then her wide eyes back up to Mark. "Are you the flash?" she asks, ready to beleive it. Even though the body types and builds are vastly different.

"Someone get my daughter a place to rest. I'll be in speaking to Jameson." That was her father's voice, and she stiffens. As if expecting punishment? Yes. There are definite signs of an autocratic home life.

Hyperion has posed:
    Laughing softly, Mark shakes his head, "No. I've just done a -lot- of sketching. You get good enough at something and you can get really fast at it..." he murmurs softly.

    Then he reaches out and takes hold of a stool. "She can sit here while I work!" he calls out as he gestures to the stool. "She'll be perfectly safe here." he adds before patting the stool for her and looking her way, "So, what else should I draw? Today, you are in charge. You're my boss for the day."

Rebecca Ryker has posed:
Mark's boss glances in. "Yeah, that'll work," he says, then he moves off to work on something else that he's got to do, right now. He doesn't thank Mark, but then he's probably halfway to getting fired himself and has to juggle a dozen things of his own.

Becca looks up. She doesn't see her father, so she visibly relaxes. Then she whispers, not talking loudly. Never. "I wish there was a ...um..." Pause, looking around. "Can you draw a girl who can't do anything right, who um.."

Pause.

"Can you show me how to draw?" She bites her lip, then nods. "I'll practice on my own, I promise." Like most kids her train of thought isn't one line, it goes all over the place. "Can I draw myself?"

Hyperion has posed:
    Giving a salute to the boss, Mark smacks his pencil into his face as he does so. Then he snorts and sets it down before looking to his guest.

    His brows go up as she starts with requests. "Can't... do... anything." he repeats before Becca totally changes gears.

    "Teach? Never thought about that before. But I suppose, sure. It takes a lot of practice and nobody's good when they first start. So don't get disappointed if you don't get it immediately right, okay?" he asks as he makes room on the desk for her stool to pull up. "So, let me give you some of the beginner lessons. When drawing a person, you should never try to draw it all at once. Make small shapes that fill in the areas."

    Then he slowly works through a few shapes, ovals... one end wider than the other. Then another oval at an odd angle. Then he connects them and it turns out to be an arm.

    He's slow and patient. "Try it yourself." he suggests. "You can also draw things you see, but the single most important part of it is to -not- get frustrated. Just move forward."

Rebecca Ryker has posed:
Becca sits on her stool, raising it up a little bit. She can't reach as well, lacking height. Then she watches. She watches, and watches, a level of patience that is often lacking in some her age. But she doesn't try to touch a thing, as if she's trained not to. Until Mark suggests it.

Then yes, she does. A couple of ovals, the shape not being quite right. But once she links the up and adds one for the body... "It's a person!" Her page looks like it's actually going to look vaguely human. Also that was the most excited she's been since she arrived.

Hyperion has posed:
    "Yes. Yes it is." says Mark with a smile. "And now, other shapes. Background things. Everyone can draw a circle and put things like clock numbers in it. But.." he gestures at the analog clock on the wall down the way and says, "Can you draw -that- clock?"

    He grins, "You do have natural talent, more than I did when I was your age." he adds. "So, do the clock, and then you get to pick some items around the office to draw. Not people... things. Just to get an idea of your sense of scale and proportions."

Rebecca Ryker has posed:
"Um, okay," Becca says. She turns her head to look at the clock, then stares at her paper. Lines, she makes lines. She draws the face...and a moment later is trying to erase everything in a fit of frustration. Having completely forgotten (or not processed) that lesson from earlier.

"I'm awful at everything," she says, her voice dropping back into whispers. "I'm sorry."

Hyperion has posed:
    "Hey. What did I say? Nobody is good when they first start. The trick is to -not- get frustrated. That is the single most important part, to learn to not give up. To not quit. To improve even a tiny bit every day." says Mark in a surprisingly understanding and soft tone of voice.

    He smiles and pulls out a fresh piece of paper. "What you need to understand that what you just did was not a failure. It was practice to get better. A wise man once said... It is better to make a mistake with the full force of your being, than you hesitate and be afraid to try. We only learn by failing... and figuring out what not to do." He pauses and tilts his head a bit.

    "The same man also said... "If babies held the same tendency toward self-criticism as adults, they might never learn to walk or talk. Can you imagine infants stomping, 'Aarggh! Screwed up again!' Fortunately, babies are free of self-criticism. They just keep practicing.?

Rebecca Ryker has posed:
"Of course, if you were speaking to a child, your words would have little effect." The Father says this, looking in. He'd come up on them a moment before, watching the proceedings. It is good that Mark was being completely appropriate, and in many ways helping to address things that needed addressing. Or he'd have had reason to be upset.

"I've spoken much the same. I hope your words have better effect. It's time to go, Rebecca."

Becca's face is blank, as if she has no emotions. She rises, a dutiful daughter, and turns to look at Mark. "I will keep your words in mind, thank you for taking care of me." She has her face turned away from her father, and she dares a half-smile for a moment.

But she has her practice sheet hidden in her hand, as her father starts to leave.

Hyperion has posed:
    Glancing up at Daddy Ryker, Mark lifts a brow. "She's a very attentive student. She must perform well in school." he says the man's way before turning his attention back to the girl.

    "Becca, don't quit. Don't get frustrated. Let yourself accept that you are learning. Be a peaceful warrior." he says as he looks to his pencils and a backup sketch pad. He reaches for the pad, and a plastic case of pencils of various colors before he holds them out, "This should get you started. But don't forget to take the one I made for you." he says, turning to roll it up and hand it over too.

Rebecca Ryker has posed:
Becca takes the gifts. She takes the advice, and the hope. Mostly the hope, because it's what she needs the most right now. She pauses, then leans in and kisses Mark on the cheek. And then she's gone, a shadow in her father's greatness.

Hours later though, in her room, Becca sits under her covers. She turns on her celphone for light, and she pulls out a pencil. And tries to draw his face. Mark...