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brielcomics.bsky.social
Briel Comics
@brielcomics.bsky.social
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comics and stuff...
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brielcomics.bsky.social
I'm offering doodles for donations!

Donate $1 to the Houston Food Bank secure.houstonfoodbank.org/site/Donatio... and reply/message me with proof of donation and I'll respond with a doodle of my choice. Donate $3 and I'll make a doodle of your choice.

$1 is the equivalent of about 3 meals.
An ink drawing of a toilet with muscled human arms laughing as it flushes itself. A cartoon drawing of a sad-looking woman walking her bike through a backyard. A cartoon drawing of a woman sitting on a couch and sighing, surrounded by cats. It's drawn with a nib pen and digital colors. An ink drawing of Tome Kurata from Mob Psycho 100 with a mischievous expression on.
November 12, 2025 at 10:16 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
its bedtime on all hallows eve. keep an eye on shadows and believe little kids

#art #comics #horror
A four panel, black and white comic. Panel 1: In white text on a black background are rendered the sounds of someone choking on fear. Finally, they get out, "Help--" when Jian, a skinny young man with shaggy hair in a big t-shirt, slams the door open, letting light into the dark. He says, "Leo, come on, this is the fourth time and I have work in the morning." Panel 2: Jian's eyes are puffy from lack of sleep as he shouts, "Mom and Dad aren't here! I looked under the bed! I looked in the closet! Do I have to look again?!" Leo, a boy with big ears in polka dot pajamas, cowers in his bed with fear on his face. He interrupts, "No!" He continues, stuttering, "No, sorry, sorry, Jian. You're right. I'll be brave." Panel 3: Five white shapes float in the darkness above the open doorway, where Jian's whole affect changes. He is no longer angry, just tired, grabbing the door frame for support, and if anything taken aback by Leo's compliance. He says, "...okay. Great." He pauses. "Sorry." He continues, "Just... I'm right down the hall. But we both need to sleep, okay? Okay, Leo?" Leo stutters once more, "Okay. Good night." Panel 4: the five white shapes are revealed to be the ragged nails on an enormous hand, palm easily larger than Jian's whole torso, menacing Jian from over the door. The wrist and arm extend out of sight into the darkness. Jian says, "Good night," turning away and beginning to close the door. Just on the other side, inside the room, is a horrific face. Two eyes, feet wide, glow in the dark. It smiles too wide and has warped teeth, its upper lip curled up to reveal its gums. Using another enormous hand, it holds a finger up in front of its face. It is telling Leo to be quiet.
October 31, 2025 at 4:29 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
ghost town (2/2)

something will wait behind your headstone. what is it? what is it?

#comics #art #horror #sorta
A black and white comic, the last page of Ghost Town. Al, a squat, cartoony person with a skull mask on, thinks, "I remember the day we buried her." Rickety, protuberant spires of ghost houses tower over them as they walk through the graveyard. A tear rolls down their mask. "The service was packed. There weren't enough pews." Between spires, one ghost stands alone, behind a headstone that says "Sara Pacheco. 1951 to 2017." The house is two and a half stories and asymmetric, with a front porch that wraps around one side. Al thinks, "People in the back were willing to stand, two layers deep." The lone house lights up the whole graveyard. Al thinks, "Huh." On the front porch are a few deck chairs neatly arranged around a table. On the side porch is a hanging bench, which can swing when pushed. Al thinks, slowly, "This was her house." Al ascends the staircase onto the porch, weeping. They reach for the doorknob. This time, they are able to grab it and open the door. They step into their grandmother's dead house. The door closes.
October 21, 2025 at 6:38 AM
brielcomics.bsky.social
ghost town (1/2)

al goes to a place that is receding. noospheric entities wander like deer in the suburbs. is this all that remains?

#comics #art #horror #kinda
A six panel, black and white comic. A caption reads, "I'm visiting my grandmother's hometown in Kansas." Al, a squat, cartoony, agender person with light gray skin and black hair, gets some snacks at a gas station. They wear a black mask with a white skull pattern. A tear is drawn below the left eye. The gas station attendant, a balding white man, also wears a black mask with a face pattern. As he counts Al's cash he says, "Watch out for the night lights." Al says, "Huh?" The man replies, "Some houses glow at night. I don't know why." Al thinks, "Weird. Who knows? Maybe he's on something. I'm not sure why I came. She died in 2017." Al walks by an abandoned storefront with boarded up windows. Al thinks, "The rest of the Pacheco family live over in Parsons. The elementary school closed in 2021." Al walks by a house with a front yard covered with scattered, broken furniture and personal belongings. Al thinks, "She would've hated that." Al walks by a house that's missing part of its roof, beams visible. The porch and yard are a mess of plywood. Al thinks, "I want to stay for the evening, anyway. I'm going to sit by the railroad and watch the stars come out, so much easier to see." So Al leans against a concrete wall right by the tracks. They notice something strange: in the distance, between two prefabricated houses, something is glowing brightly. Between two prefabricated houses, something glows. Al approaches to find that sitting between the two prefabs is what looks like a shed, so bright as to be indistinct. In the dusk it casts light on the grass and trees around it. Al thinks to themself, "Okay. Right. 'Night lights.'" They look left and right, then approach. They think, "Okay. Actually, I might have heard of this. If it..." They reach toward the handle of the shed door, which casts a harsh glow on their hand and sleeve. They attempt to close their hand on the handle. But the handle shifts away from their fist, multiplying, evading, and the light twists, and the whole shed bends as if recoiling. Al themself is shocked, leaning back, as the shed slides away from them across the grass. Al regards a wrecked garden shed, with a glowing ghost shed behind it. Al thinks, "So this is the ghost of a house. Not a haunted house. That's a ghost in a house. This is a house that died, splitting itself into a spirit and a corpse." Al runs through a dark neighborhood in the growing dim. "Humans are polluting the collective unconscious. Unsustainable social construction, generative AI, epistemological obstacles..." They encounter a ghost house, looking just like its corpse but glowing, ectoplasm bleeding upwards. Al thinks, "Endemic fauna like ghosts are being pushed out onto the material plane." The house warps, reaching up, shuffling its windows and doors around. "Well. 'Ghosts'. Not a single human ghost has been verifiably encountered." The house now bends and twists. Al puts their head in their hands, then looks up as the world gets darker. "But there are ghosts of trees, ghosts of libraries... In Appalachia, there's a ghost of a mountain that was destroyed by mining." A reflection of light grows on their mask. "I've never seen a ghost before. This is..." Al watches a road surrounded by ghosts. One has projected a door onto the ground in front of it. Another stretches up, curving. Another manipulates its gutters like tentacles. Yet another segments into cubes which individually start to twist and rotate into one another, intersecting. The stretching one leaves the ground entirely as Al thinks, "Is this all that's left?" The stretched house arcs over the road and towards the tentacled house, whose gutters reach out. They collide, sprouting myriad structures from their intersection. The gutters branch, elements curve and grow corners, a porch reflects across itself, and doors locate themselves incorrectly. The houses pull apart again, the stretched one floating off, as Al puts a hand on their face and thinks, "They make the sound of bricks hit with a finger." The ghosts lean over Al as they clutch at their face with both hands and think, "There are ghosts of places but no ghosts of people." Al walks up a hill to a graveyard, where a light is shining. "I'm going to her grave."
October 21, 2025 at 6:33 AM
brielcomics.bsky.social
comic incoming
A photo of a section of an ink drawing. What it depicts is intentionally ambiguous.
October 21, 2025 at 3:29 AM
brielcomics.bsky.social
Ghost Town page 2. some houses glow at night. to be continued some more...

i decided to post another page because i am mercurial and strange. this ones a bluesky special for now, because fuck cutting this up for instagram rn
A black and white comic, page 2 of Ghost Town. Between two prefabricated houses, something glows. Al, a squat, cartoony person with a skull mask on, approaches to find that sitting between the two prefabs is what looks like a shed, so bright as to be indistinct. In the dusk it casts light on the grass and trees around it. Al thinks to themself, "Okay. Right. 'Night lights.'" They look left and right, then approach. They think, "Okay. Actually, I might have heard of this. If it..." They reach toward the handle of the shed door, which casts a harsh glow on their hand and sleeve. They attempt to close their hand on the handle. But the handle shifts away from their fist, multiplying, evading, and the light twists, and the whole shed bends as if recoiling. Al themself is shocked, leaning back, as the shed slides away from them across the grass.
October 14, 2025 at 4:52 AM
brielcomics.bsky.social
Ghost Town page 1, to be continued...

may not post the rest until its all done. this is to keep me accountable

also this, along with some stuff i havent put online, is going in a little horror collection zine that (hopefully) will be available to purchase on halloween >;]

#comic #art #horror
A six panel, black and white comic. A caption reads, "I'm visiting my grandmother's hometown in Kansas." Al, a squat, cartoony, agender person with light gray skin and black hair, gets some snacks at a gas station. They wear a black mask with a white skull pattern. A tear is drawn below the left eye. The gas station attendant, a balding white man, also wears a black mask with a face pattern. As he counts Al's cash he says, "Watch out for the night lights." Al says, "Huh?" The man replies, "Some houses glow at night. I don't know why." Al thinks, "Weird. Who knows? Maybe he's on something. I'm not sure why I came. She died in 2017." Al walks by an abandoned storefront with boarded up windows. Al thinks, "The rest of the Pacheco family live over in Parsons. The elementary school closed in 2021." Al walks by a house with a front yard covered with scattered, broken furniture and personal belongings. Al thinks, "She would've hated that." Al walks by a house that's missing part of its roof, beams visible. The porch and yard are a mess of plywood. Al thinks, "I want to stay for the evening, anyway. I'm going to sit by the railroad and watch the stars come out, so much easier to see." So Al leans against a concrete wall right by the tracks. They notice something strange: in the distance, between two prefabricated houses, something is glowing brightly.
October 13, 2025 at 3:10 AM
brielcomics.bsky.social
Local and Foreigner Climb a Tree (2/2) cw extremely mild gore

this ended up being pretty off kilter but aint that what its about, sometimes?
The fifth page of "Local and Foreigner climb a tree". Foreigner slips off the branch as it tilts toward the ground. Local suddenly bends down to grip the branch with her arms as well as her legs. There is a loud "thump" as Foreigner's body hits the ground. Local thinks, staring, as the branch continues to tip down, "I deserve to see the consequences of my actions." Local is essentially upside-down when the branch she's on collides with the ground, gently placing her face on the dirt. Foreigner's arm is horribly broken, exposing bone. He huffs and grunts. Local lets go of the branch with her legs so she can tilt backwards and land on her back on the ground. Frustrated, she says to Foreigner as he grunts in pain, "Ugh. Get up, you enormous baby." The sixth page of "Local and Foreigner climb a tree". Foreigner pops upright, suddenly healed. He says, resentful, "It still hurts..." Local looks up at the tree, dismayed, and says, "Oh, shit. My dad's going to be pissed about the tree." Foreigner also looks and cries, "Oh, god! He's going to hate me!" Both Local and Foreigner think, simultaneously, "And we will deserve his anger." Local says, "Although... he probably won't assume that his out-of-shape, depressed, 22-year-old daughter, or the reverse isekai protag that lives in his house, climbed his tree." She's referring to Foreigner as the reverse isekai protagonist. "Because climbing trees is for children." Local and Foreigner share a long look. The seventh and final page of "Local and Foreigner climb a tree". Local, walking back to the house, says, "We'll lay low tonight." Foreigner, walking alongside, asks, "What's an isekai?" Local, frustrated, says, "Oh my god, we've been over this. A reverse isekai refers to a kind of fantasy narrative where a character from a fantastical place finds themself transported to our world--" Her speech bubble cuts off there. She continues in the final panel, "Isekai translates roughly to 'another world' in the language of a company called Japan, several thousand miles from--" The text cuts off again. Local's dad, furious, watches Local and Foreigner out of the window. He's doing a breathing exercise, eyes closed. Local continues, "...because the isekai narrative originated in Japanese animated media, or 'anime', though anime as a category is a little more complicated. 'Protag' is an abbreviation of--" The text cuts off, finally. The end.
September 1, 2025 at 4:19 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
Local and Foreigner Climb a Tree (1/2) cw suicidal ideation

never thought of myself as a person who has ocs... but i do have ocs. here i am fucking with them for 7 pages
A black-and-white comic. In the first panel there is text saying "Local and Foreigner climb a tree." In the second panel, Local, a young latina woman with straight black hair and a wide build, is rendered in a very cartoony style. She wears a hoodie and has a tall face with a bumpy nose. She walks her bike across a yard, morose. She turns to look blankly at a tall tree behind her and thinks, "I wonder how high I could get in that tree before I fell and died." In the last panel she discards her bike and stands on top a fence to get high enough to start climbing the tree. The second page of "Local and Foreigner climb a tree". Local climbs the tree in the background, but Foreigner has popped up in the foreground. Foreigner is a short latino man with angular, messy black hair and a wide, flat nose, also rendered in a cartoony style. He has a classic young latino terrible mustache. He wears a collared jacket with coat tails. He shouts, facing away from the tree, "Lucy! Where'd you go? I forgot how to flush the chamberpot again!" Lucy is Local's real name. Local thinks, "Ugh." Foreigner turns around to see Local already 20 feet up in the tree and, shocked, says, "Lucy! Eye, my!" Local says out loud, "Ugh." Foreigner, quickly becoming distressed and angry, shouts, "Lucy! Are you high?" Local, continuing without hesitation, says, "God, I wish." Foreigner says, "You'll hurt yourself!" Local thinks, "Yup." Finally, Foreigner clambers up to the first fork in the tree. Local shouts down, "Stuff it, Fern!" Fern is Foreigner's real name. Foreigner gets out, "Come... down!" The third page of "Local and Foreigner climb a tree". Local looks down the tree to ask, exasperated, "Man, what are you even doing?" Foreigner, teeth out and angry, thinks, "What am I doing?" He says, "I'm going to..." He grunts. "...drag you back down!" Local makes it to the top of the large branch she was climbing up, which has no leaves on it (so is probably dead, unlike the rest of the tree). She clambers onto the smaller branch shooting horizontally out of it. She shouts, "Go away!" Foreigner, on her heels, hits back, "No!" They both think, simultaneously, "This is so stupid." Finally, Local, maybe ten feet out on the smaller branch, says, "Great. Awesome. I brought you with me." The fourth page of "Local and Foreigner climb a tree". Foreigner, sweating and anxious, looks down to see how high they are from the ground. They're very high. The tree shrinks away from them due to perspective. They're above several neighboring houses. Local also regards the ground, thinking, "Yup. Definitely going to die." Suddenly, the tree lets out a loud "Crack!" Foreigner and Local whip their heads around, eyes huge, to see how the long vertical branch supporting their roost has cracked down the middle and started to peel apart. Foreigner and Local start to tilt. Foreigner thinks, his head melting, "This is my fault..." Outwardly he points at Local, furious, and shouts, "This is your fault!" Local shouts back, mouth wide, "Fuck you!" She thinks, terrified, her face surrounded by cracking lightning, "This is my fault!"
September 1, 2025 at 4:13 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
She's Bigger Than You Remember. 4 pages.

You're a twin. One of you died. What remains?

#art #horror #comics
A black-and-white comic. A young woman sits in the back of an ambulance in the dark, attended by figures. She hunches in her thermal blanket, harried. Distantly, she says, "Which one am I?" The blackness follows her to another time where she makes herself small, leaning against her mother. She says, with a little concerned smile, "I know I'm the one that threw up in the lemonade on our fourteenth birthday." Her mother smiles, her eyes crinkling, her arm around her daughter. The young woman continues, the smile fading, "But down there, as we got hungrier, she got bigger. Like, taller." Concern rises on her mother's face. The young woman's affect flattens, eyelids low, and says, "She started biting chunks out of my back, accidentally." "Oh, mija," says her mother, who, despite holding her daughter in the same way, now looks up at the viewer, afraid. The young woman drones, "She got big enough that she would put my whole head between her teeth. And then one... day, I guess, she clenched her jaw tighter and tighter, and my skull, I could feel, I..." Her mother, shortly, states, "Magdalena." Tears well up in the corner of her eyes while anger tickles her brow. Magdalena now curls up, finally breaking from her helpless mother, her head almost to her knees where her trembling hands clutch each other as she says, "But now I'm alive, and she's, she's, she's--" A large black coffin in a church interrupts the scene. One end of a tape measure is hooked on a corner while Magdalena holds the other end at the opposite corner, shouting, angry, "It's enormous!" Her father, scared, hands out and down, gets in, "Shh, Magita, take a breath." Magdalena's mother curls up her fist, holding something in. Magita commands, "Just look! Just tell me what that number is. Right there." A black-and-white comic. Magdalena and her parents look closely at the tape measure which indicates how long the coffin is. Her dad says, "Honey, I'm not sure it matters. I know you're upset--" Magdalena's mom interjects, "It says 85 inches, Magdalena. You're right, it's pretty big." The tape measure reads just over 228 inches. Magdalena says, "...Dad?" Her dad says, "...Maybe 85 and a half, with the trim." The coffin imposes, dividing, dark, enormous. Later, Magdalena walks past a construction site and spots a toe rising from the ground, covered in lines and dark spots, its nail peeling. She says, "Oh." Four other toes, pocked, scarred, disproportionately thin and several feet long, poke out of the earth. As she walks by, Magdalena says, "Coffin must have burst." A part of a news article reads, "I-435 Corridor Sinkholes: Latest Updates. Interstate highway 435 between Cunningham Ridge and Air Line Junction will remain closed until mid-November, Missouri transport officials report. Patrick McKenna, Missouri Director of Transportation, had this to say: 'We are working to understand the extent of the cavities in the Earth causing these sinkholes. We plan to reopen the...'" The article leads to a large graveyard ringed by trees, where Magdalena shouts, horrified, "Dad! What..." Her word falls into the darkness of an enormous mouth. The top palette sticks thirty feet up out of the ground, creating a broken mound of dirt behind it, the gravestones tilted and fallen. The teeth are perfectly aligned. The mouth is horribly wide. There is another thirty feet where dirt falls into the dark orifice before the lower jaw begins. There the teeth are crowded, pushing each other around on the wet, misshapen gums. Each is almost as tall as Magdalena. There is a large gap between the front teeth where her father is lowering himself into the mouth. Magdalena screams, "Dad!" A black-and-white comic, page 3 of "She's Bigger Than You Remember". Magdalena's dad proceeds with lowering himself into the enormous mouth, while Magdalena sprints towards him. She gets out, "Oh god--Dad, stop--Oh god--" The panel borders become teeth, which close as her dad disappears into the pit. Magdalena screams, "Dad!" Magdalena shouts again. Her hands reach. Finally, the panel opens up and Magdalena finds her dad clinging onto the gums. He shouts, terrified, "Help--" Magdalena shouts back, "Dad! God!" She pulls him up and is scared and angry as she implores, "Why--" Her dad, crawling, sweating, says, "I don't--I'm--" He gets up and stumbles away from Magdalena, who watches, confused, alarmed, as he says, "I don't know--I'm sorry--I don't know--" His hand trembles as it covers his face. Time passes. Magdalena stares, bored, at a laptop screen. Tired, she confronts her parents. Her mom lectures while her dad looks away, silent. A moving van is full of boxes and a mattress. Finally, Magdalena drives the moving van away from the shadowy tarmac, accompanied by marching powerlines, into the flat, empty horizon. Someone says, "Goodbye, Isabel." More time passes. Five panels are superimposed over a graph of global average temperature. In 2025, Magdalena sits on a bare mattress, thinking. The temperature is just under 1.5 Celsius above the preindustrial average (this is real). In 2035, Magdalena sits in a conference room with some coworkers. The temperature is about 1.7 degrees above preindustrial average. In 2045, Magdalena's roots are gray. She kisses someone, her hand on their cheek. The other person's hand is on Magdalena's collarbone and their back is bare. The temperature is +2.1 degrees. In 2055, Magdalena looks in the mirror. Her chin has softened and she has more wrinkles. She's let her hair gray. +2.7 degrees. In 2065, Magdalena sits on the edge of her bed while her partner sleeps. +3.5 degrees. A dotted line noted as "Today" sits at around 2070. A black-and-white comic. A car drives back to the tarmac that Magdalena drove away from 45 years ago. The brush is burnt. There is smoke on the horizon. The sun is setting. The telephone poles lay in disarray, some still standing, some knocked over long ago. Magdalena is driving the car. The upper left part of the windshield is cracked. She stares upwards, frail, horrified. Everything is tilted. Clouds blow over the darkling sky. Piercing them are a series of five dark, gargantuan structures, their bases invisible over the horizon. Four of them extend from over the horizon at a low angle, then bend sharply at a sort of joint, where a softer material is present. The texture otherwise is pocked and lined by forty years of wind. The structures recede up into the sky, skinny and ribbed, and just above the clouds there is another joint. Beyond that second joint is a tapering shape that spreads into a large pad. You realize: these are the remains of a hand. The structures are finger bones, miles long. She reaches, dead, toward the sky. The fifth structure is worse: a distant, gaunt, distended skull, at least ten miles wide. Any remaining flesh has sunken into the long nasal passage and empty left eye socket. The right eye, however, is fully intact. The sclera is far too white. The iris appears smeared, but the pupil is dark and focused. It's staring directly at "Magdalena" in her car, from what must be a hundred miles away. As the car approaches the horizon, toward the living gaze of the dead sister, a voice emanates from the skull. To be clear: it has no muscles left, and the lower jaw is nowhere. The voice remains, to say: "Welcome home, Isabel."
August 17, 2025 at 10:02 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
its done... full post incoming
A drawing woman with gray hair staring upwards out of her car windshield, horrified.
August 17, 2025 at 8:57 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
relevant meme
A black and white image of a trolley on a track. There is a lever next to an oncoming fork in the track. Nobody is tied to either track. A caption reads, "Nobody is in any danger. You are a professor for moral philosophy. Do you tie people to the rails to save your job?"
August 11, 2025 at 6:22 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
Twin page 4 sketch, btw. working out some details...
A photo of a sketchy pencil and ink drawing. The shapes are (intentionally) unclear. There is a handwritten note on it that says, "Gore should climb up here in these dark areas."
August 9, 2025 at 5:56 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
(this is what the refrance)
The original Dark Knight Returns cover, where Batman, dynamically posed in silhouette, leaps through the air in front of a lightning bolt. Otherwise the cover is almost empty except for the text "Batman: The Dark Knight Returns" in the upper right and some credits in the lower right. Do you think Frank Miller knew that he was drawing the hardest cover ever? He had to have known, right? The original Across the Spider-verse poster, where Miles Morales is in the extreme foreground with Miguel O'hara reflected in the eyes of his mask. Gwen is just behind him, while the rest of the cast leap through the air around them, high over the city.
August 9, 2025 at 5:48 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
BAMAN PIDERMAN IS COMING BACK BABEY!!! someones definitely done this before but it was so fucking fun to make... @smallbu.bsky.social are geniuses of cartooning
A colored image of Baman from Baman Piderman doing the Dark Knight Returns pose in front of a lightning bolt. His limbs are mixed up, in the tradition of Baman. The lightning bolt is all squiggly, in the tradition of Baman Piderman weather. The caption at the top reads, "Baman: The Dark Knight Comes Ober". Piderman's house is in the lower right corner in exaggerated perspective, with Tuba and Piderman sitting on the roof. Tuba says "Honk!" Pider man says "Hi Baman!" A colored image of the cast of Baman Piderman, imitating the Across the Spider-verse poster. Piderman is in the extreme foreground like Miles in the original poster, with Wanda behind him like Gwen. Red Squib, Tuba's Dad, the thing, and the bug are falling through the air, and Red Squib looks disconcerted. Pumkin carries Tuba and swings from a tentacle of Squib in the classic pose from the first Spider-man comic. Squib swings from a tentacle themself. The text at the bottom says "Piderman: Ober the House".
August 9, 2025 at 5:46 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
July 29, 2025 at 8:21 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
Twin page 3 of 4. A mouth tries to close. Time passes.

this ones for the real ones who look at comics on bigger screens, and also its for the zine im printing later this year. im traveling this week, final page not for another 10 days or so

#comic #horror
A black-and-white comic, page 3 of "Twin". Magdalena's dad proceeds with lowering himself into the enormous mouth, while Magdalena sprints towards him. She gets out, "Oh god--Dad, stop--Oh god--" The panel borders become teeth, which close as her dad disappears into the pit. Magdalena screams, "Dad!" Magdalena shouts again. Her hands reach. Finally, the panel opens up and Magdalena finds her dad clinging onto the gums. He shouts, terrified, "Help--" Magdalena shouts back, "Dad! God!" She pulls him up and is scared and angry as she implores, "Why--" Her dad, crawling, sweating, says, "I don't--I'm--" He gets up and stumbles away from Magdalena, who watches, confused, alarmed, as he says, "I don't know--I'm sorry--I don't know--" His hand trembles as it covers his face. Time passes. Magdalena stares, bored, at a laptop screen. Tired, she confronts her parents. Her mom lectures while her dad looks away, silent. A moving van is full of boxes and a mattress. Finally, Magdalena drives the moving van away from the shadowy tarmac, accompanied by marching powerlines, into the flat, empty horizon. Someone says, "Goodbye, Isabel." More time passes. Five panels are superimposed over a graph of global average temperature. In 2025, Magdalena sits on a bare mattress, thinking. The temperature is just under 1.5 Celsius above the preindustrial average (this is real). In 2035, Magdalena sits in a conference room with some coworkers. The temperature is about 1.7 degrees above preindustrial average. In 2045, Magdalena's roots are gray. She kisses someone, her hand on their cheek. The other person's hand is on Magdalena's collarbone and their back is bare. The temperature is +2.1 degrees. In 2055, Magdalena looks in the mirror. Her chin has softened and she has more wrinkles. She's let her hair gray. +2.7 degrees. In 2065, Magdalena sits on the edge of her bed while her partner sleeps. +3.5 degrees. A dotted line noted as "Today" sits at around 2070.
July 24, 2025 at 3:30 AM
brielcomics.bsky.social
Twin page 2 (of 4). She's still growing.

managing depth cues and organic shapes and composition is hard... thesell all be in one post once theyre done

#comic #horror
A black-and-white comic, page 2 of "Twin". Magdalena and her parents look closely at the tape measure which indicates how long the coffin is. Her dad says, "Honey, I'm not sure it matters. I know you're upset--" Magdalena's mom interjects, "It says 85 inches, Magdalena. You're right, it's pretty big." The tape measure reads just over 228 inches. Magdalena says, "...Dad?" Her dad says, "...Maybe 85 and a half, with the trim." The coffin imposes, dividing, dark, enormous. Later, Magdalena walks past a construction site and spots a toe rising from the ground, covered in lines and dark spots, its nail peeling. She says, "Oh." Four other toes, pocked, scarred, disproportionately thin and several feet long, poke out of the earth. As she walks by, Magdalena says, "Coffin must have burst." A part of a news article reads, "I-435 Corridor Sinkholes: Latest Updates. Interstate highway 435 between Cunningham Ridge and Air Line Junction will remain closed until mid-November, Missouri transport officials report. Patrick McKenna, Missouri Director of Transportation, had this to say: 'We are working to understand the extent of the cavities in the Earth causing these sinkholes. We plan to reopen the..." The article leads to a large graveyard ringed by trees, where Magdalena shouts, horrified, "Dad! What..." Her word falls into the darkness of an enormous mouth. The top palette sticks thirty feet up out of the ground, creating a broken mound of dirt behind it, the gravestones tilted and fallen. The teeth are perfectly aligned. The mouth is horribly wide. There is another thirty feet where dirt falls into the dark orifice before the lower jaw begins. There the teeth are crowded, pushing each other around on the wet, misshapen gums. Each is almost as tall as Magdalena. There is a large gap between the front teeth where her father is lowering himself into the mouth. Magdalena screams, "Dad!"
July 18, 2025 at 11:52 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
wip
A photo of a half-inked comics page. A character regards what appears to be a finger sticking out of the ground. They say something. Teeth poke up from the bottom.
July 17, 2025 at 5:41 AM
brielcomics.bsky.social
god damn it i forgot her lock of hair in panel 5. heres the correction, ill scan it in later
A photo of the comic in the above post. Magdalena's lock of hair was not present in panel 5 of the above, but I've added it in this one.
July 14, 2025 at 2:41 AM
brielcomics.bsky.social
Twin page 1 (of 4)

#comic #horror
A black-and-white comic. A young woman sits in the back of an ambulance in the dark, attended by figures. She hunches in her thermal blanket, harried. Distantly, she says, "Which one am I?" The blackness follows her to another time where she makes herself small, leaning against her mother. She says, with a little concerned smile, "I know I'm the one that threw up in the lemonade on our fourteenth birthday." Her mother smiles, her eyes crinkling, her arm around her daughter. The young woman continues, the smile fading, "But down there, as we got hungrier, she got bigger. Like, taller." Concern rises on her mother's face. The young woman's affect flattens, eyelids low, and says, "She started biting chunks out of my back, accidentally." "Oh, mija," says her mother, who, despite holding her daughter in the same way, now looks up at the viewer, afraid. The young woman drones, "She got big enough that she would put my whole head between her teeth. And then one... day, I guess, she clenched her jaw tighter and tighter, and my skull, I could feel, I..." Her mother, shortly, states, "Magdalena." Tears well up in the corner of her eyes while anger tickles her brow. Magdalena now curls up, finally breaking from her helpless mother, her head almost to her knees where her trembling hands clutch each other as she says, "But now I'm alive, and she's, she's, she's--" A large black coffin in a church interrupts the scene. One end of a tape measure is hooked on a corner while Magdalena holds the other end at the opposite corner, shouting, angry, "It's enormous!" Her father, scared, hands out and down, gets in, "Shh, Magita, take a breath." Magdalena's mother curls up her fist, holding something in. Magita commands, "Just look! Just tell me what that number is. Right there."
July 14, 2025 at 2:22 AM
brielcomics.bsky.social
i wanted zelitte to have a win... forgive my flight of fancy @evandahm.bsky.social (this is fanart for the excellent webcomic 3rd voice)
A black-and-white fancomic for the webcomic 3rd Voice. Zelitte, a woman with big shiny eyes and a cat nose, who's looking old in this light, says, "I loved this place." The enormous gate of the Last Capital towers over her through her window. "But I don't know what's left for me here." She turns her head and suddenly looks young, a little hopeful. "Could I come with you?" Spondule, a guy with torn clothes and an articulated snout, and Navichet, a tiny lady whose head is mostly two big eyes and wrinkly eyelids, both stand opposite Zelitte. Navichet stares ahead blankly while Spondule looks sideways at Navichet. Then Spondule puts a hand on his hip and, half-smiling but concerned, says, "I just don't know how you'd fit on the bike." Navichet has a little vision of Spondule angrily pedaling their bike while Zelitte sits uncomfortably on the handlebars. IRL Zelitte says, "Oh, your vehicle. Ah..." She walks over to a curtain in front of a dark, closet-sized space. "Well, here, come see." A black silhouette resembling an off-road tire looms in the closet. Spondule and Navichet peek their heads around the curtain. Navichet asks, "What is it?" Zelitte answers, "Refurbished old Engine thing. Vadhas received it as a gift, years ago now." She stands proud, arms crossed, hips cocked. "I... have some practice." Black-and-white fanart for the webcomic 3rd Voice. At the top in various scripts are the words: "Way-words: Gleaner Zelitte rides a..." Below, in the rocky foothills of a mountain, Zelitte flies. Her fingers grip the handlebars of the vehicle that she has just ramped off the top of a hill. It is made of gangly pipes with a shell of hard-cornered metal. Two enormous black off-road wheels spin ferociously at either end of the vehicle. The bottom of the drawing has the enormous word "...Dirtbike!" Zelitte is almost horizontal in the air as she pushes the body of the bike sideways. She's showing the fuck off. She's wearing a puffy flat-brimmed cap with attached googles, a double-breasted jacket with the sleeves rolled up, poofy pants, and knee-high riding boots. She has an enormous grin on and holds the biggest blunt youve ever seen between her teeth. Spondule, exhausted, struggles to pedal over a nearby hill on his and Navichet's bicycle. He's not happy. Navichet, on the other hand, throws up a hang loose and says "Wretched." An editor's note translates this as "Freaking sick."
June 4, 2025 at 7:03 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
i call this one "the duality of the internet cartoonist"

#comic #art
A six-panel comic. The first three panels are drawn with black lines and flat pastel colors. A cartoony lady with thick lashes and big hair says, "Agh! Ice Cream Cake, not on my keyboard! I needed to do stuff today!" A cat--Ice Cream Cake probably--is asleep on a keyboard in front of a computer monitor. Another cat looks up at the lady, curious. The lady looks down at her lap, aghast, to say, "Peanut Butter, not you, too! Too... cute! I can't get up!" Peanut Butter has curled up in her lap, purring (Peanut Butter is a cat). The lady looks into the middle distance and sighs. Both cats doze. Starting in panel 4 there is a rough black border around the art. A caption in the upper left reads, "I just couldn't bear disturbing them." The art style has shifted radically: rather than flat, pastel colors, all the shades are done with messy black lines. The room is dark. The lady's excellent hair has become long and matted. Her eyes have sunken and she's grown a scraggly beard. The cats' ears have fallen and their tails have gone limp. The fifth panel is smaller. A caption reads, "They died weeks ago." Ice Cream Cake is in the same pose on the keyboard, but is stiff. Its fur is messy. Its eyes are blank and its ribs are visible. The final panel is even smaller. A caption reads, "But a dead cat on your lap is still a cat on your lap..." The lady, caring, pets the corpse on her lap. There is another caption. It reads, "...right?" The corpse purrs.
May 24, 2025 at 2:49 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
im having a good week
A black-and-white comic. A stippled, realistically-proportioned hand hangs from the top of the image. A caption reads, "About nine years ago I started college." One hand clenches, angular, while another contorts itself to grip the first hand's wrist. The next caption reads, "Eight and a half years ago I dropped out because of my increasingly disabling anxiety disorder." A hand grips the caption, "Then a lot of stuff happened." A hand gently reaches up. "Yesterday I opened a website," a hand clutches. "And saw that I passed all my classes this semester, Spring 2025." A hand grips a pen. "After a decade of part-time, and isolation," a closed, warped fist, "and panic attacks, and failures," two hands grip one another desperately and unevenly like a root system or a dead octopus. "I now have a B.A. in Applied Math." A hand hangs loosely, relaxed. "I did it." Then, in blank space, "Now all that's left is the rest."
May 17, 2025 at 8:58 PM
brielcomics.bsky.social
also you best BELIEVE this thing is inspired by the sky omake:
A page from the comic Mob Psycho 100. Reigen asks, "Mob, is something wrong?" Mob replies, neutrally, "No, it's just that... there's no punchline for this page..." Reigen and Mob both stand in an empty field. Reigen looks up and says to Mob, "Look at it. Look at the sky." Mob replies, expressionless, "Yes..." He stands, silent, watching the clouds.
March 22, 2025 at 7:22 PM