If there’s one person who has a lot to live with, it’s Colonel Haulley. This is the first moment where I’ve really genuinely felt sorry for him, trapped as he is – as so many of us are – in a mess of his own making.
Anyway, it’s been a heck of a few days for me. Lots of work to be done, professionally speaking. But I have been trying to find some time to relax a tiny bit around the edges, and I think it’s showed in the artwork, which this week felt more deliberate and “complete.” I feel a lot better about this page than I have in a long while. Not that I don’t always do the best I possibly can, just that… well, I’m a chronic second-guesser, and I rarely settle on feeling “good” about a page. This chapter has had more than the usual number of exceptions, though, and this is one of them.
At any rate, I’m off to bed. Another tough one is coming this week and I have to rise to meet it. Be well, everyone!
My god, Comrade Colonel…. I don’t even know what to say… *Offers tea and company of friendly communist*
And under that hard, tough shell, Haulley is just a soft, vulnerable being.
With a soul.
Jacket up that round and fire it to them, maybe that way you will make more damage to them than the damage you did to yourself.
Damn.
Yup. That sucked about as hard as I thought it would. That picture of Rachel… she’s a vision of the best thing in your life going bye-bye.
She’s probably a nice crisp cinder by now.
What? Aww, DAMN! So he never gets another chance… That’s Fucked.
Ooh, that hurts. Bad.
Why do women and children always have to suffer the consequences. Being victims of war is one thing, but this hurts rather bad as well.
I could say more about not speaking in anger, but I digress.