Let's you and me talk about the weather, huh?
Li Ruqing sits by a missile launcher loaded down with chemical-tipped warheads, just watching the sky. He commands three such batteries in the North Western corner of Beijing, keeping an eye on the weather report and a cool hand on the trigger. The weather's a bitch in this part of China, holding back rain the crops desperately need in favor of hail stones that beat anything edible or old and pretty-looking into pulp. Li isn't waiting for enemy airplanes. When the storm clouds roll in, he's going to shoot great fucking holes through them with the precision and tactical mind of a seasoned field commander. The shells seed the clouds, forcing the moisture inside to fall before it can form hail or decide to just stay up in the air in that smug fashion precipitation has. Li's a cloud shooter, and goddamn if that isn't the best job title ever.
Comics work horse Neil Kleid runs a column for writerly advice site Scryptic Studios. Between installments, he sends the new column to a stable of professional and just getting into it writers who then put together a coherent response and send it in for a different perspective. This week, it's me and Alex DeCampi.
For the record, I'm the one that sounds all fucked up on drugs.