light -11-
posted 2009.07.04 at 18:20
Cue the Tactical Neural Implant mix of The Blade. Not as legible, but not nearly as pretentious as the previous version.
Thad got (relatively) bigger, while Greymalkin and Ornix (in his first appearance) got cropped a bit. Ornix is, fortunately, the last major character to be introduced in the book - chronologically, this is his first major appearance since chapter two of Dead City Radio. While his DCR bit hasn't been produced yet, it's a scene I'm married to - and no matter how I wind up changing the storyline or production to work (or when I even get to it), he'll still be making his appearance. As will Beef Knuckleback.
Though they won't be in the same scene. :|
First Edition Metadata
OPD : 2004.11.27 @ 22:26
20070731 : Tweaked slightly. Previous version here.
===================================================
Historically, any amount of excessive drinking has always heralded problems on the ATC front, and last night was no exception. Rather than a rat-nasty "all the internals are DEAD" zombie hangover, I woke up with a head full of lead, feelling PISSED. Ready to kill and so forth.
This didn't get any better throughout the day. To put it mildly. Not only didn't the kill-urge abate, it was accompanied by a massive anxiety attack, lasting from around five until around eight or so. That sucked. And I still feel like shit, nevermind the runaround that my head's been giving me.
Consequently, the page has suffered accordingly. Not my best work by a long shot, though fortunately not in the same league of shittiness as my worst. The mirror positioning bent my head into really fucked up pretzel shapes, and I'm not entirely pleased with the relative lack of palette transition.
Four pages left of Chapter Three, all of them complicated, and I feel like I'mma puke. Or kill something. Or kill something and puke on it.
I'll keep you posted.
=== update! ===
It's probably a good thing that one of my senior coworkers keeps harassing me to go see The Doctor, as I've ample reason to do so. Alcohol has a very peculiar interaction with my metabolism - a few drinks and the >.< !!!!! of WANNA PUKENKILL is GONE. A LOT. To be replaced on Sunday by a Massive Hangover, but hey. I'm sick of the juggling act and definitely need to get a professional diagnosis after Chapter Three is finished.
Also, much love to Adam for the reality check. <3
=====
One of these days I need to run through the hardcopy and count the number of times I've abused eye closeups. I swore awhile back I'd try to put a stop to this, dammit. At least in this instance it makes a certain degree of sense.