Thursday, April 26, 2018

The first 30 pages of Blue Rose. By Me.

Tuesday, March 13, 2018

The Why

Here's the first four pages of a 78 page thing I hope to find a home for. Enjoy.

Monday, January 22, 2018

Making a page

I write and draw the Numskulls for The Beano.
Here's how a page comes into being...
Firstly I'll sketch out a page in a note book.
A5 is best as the small page stops me from getting too wordy.
This is an example of a rare page that went well.
That is to say the rough made sense and had the right number of panels.
Most of the time it isn't this smooth and I have to attack the thing with scissors.
If a page is too short the best place for extra material is at the start or middle as you've often thought of a good ending and you don't want to take from that with more stuff after the climax.
So It's often the case that, with the help of some sellotape a messy jigsaw of a page is somehow arrived at.
It's messy and readable so needs to be redone because no editor alive would be able to read it.

So I re-draw the page.
This is also a good opportunity to trim the words. Say the same with less words if possible.
Then it's sent to the editor, hopefully to be approved...

 Once approved it's time to draw the thing!
 ...and in house the dialogue etc is put on.

A little word about drawing.
My scripts are hand drawn. "straight to ink" two years ago they looked like this...

Now they look like this. That's how two years of drawing a lot will help you.

Thursday, January 11, 2018

Briar Rose

slightly reworked and much expanded version of sleeping Beauty.

A long time ago there were a King and Queen who said every day, "Ah, if only we had a child!" but never did. Then it happened that once when the Queen was bathing, a frog that was not a frog crept out of the water on to the land, and said to her, "Your wish shall be fulfilled; before a year has gone by, you shall have a daughter.”
The Queen knew that this was magic, but was so happy to hear of her coming daughter that she put the knowledge that no good ever comes from magic to the back of her mind and shut it away.
What the frog had said came true, and the Queen had a little girl who was so pretty that the King could not contain himself for joy, and ordered a great feast. He invited not only his kindred, friends and acquaintance, but also the Wise Women, in order that they might be kind and well-disposed towards the child. There were thirteen of them in his kingdom, but, as thirteen is the bad number only invited twelve.
The feast was held with all manner of splendour and when it came to an end the Wise Women bestowed their gifts upon the baby: one gave virtue, another beauty, a third strength, and so on with everything in the world that one can wish for. For the Wise Women were also witches.
When eleven of them had made their promise, the thirteenth suddenly came in. She wished to avenge herself for not having been invited, and without greeting, or even looking at anyone, she cried with a loud voice, "The King's daughter shall in her eighteenth year prick herself with a spindle, and fall down dead." And then she was gone.
All were shocked; but the twelfth, whose good wish still remained unspoken, came forward, and as she could not undo the evil sentence, but only soften it, she said, "It shall not be death, but a deep sleep, into which the princess shall fall."
The King, who would fain keep his dear child from the misfortune, gave orders that every spindle in the kingdom should be burnt. Meanwhile the gifts of the Wise Women were plenteously fulfilled on the young girl, for she was so beautiful, modest, good-natured, and wise, that everyone who saw her was bound to love her.
It happened that on the very day when she was eighteen years old, the King and Queen were not at home, and the maiden was left in the palace quite alone. So she went round into all sorts of places, looked into rooms and bed-chambers just as she liked, and at last came to an old tower. She climbed up the narrow winding-staircase, and reached a little door. A rusty key was in the lock, and when she turned it the door sprang open, and there in a little room sat an old woman with a spindle, busily spinning her flax.
"Good day, old dame," said the King's daughter; "what are you doing there?”
"I am spinning," said the old woman, and nodded her head. "What sort of thing is that, that rattles round so merrily?" said the girl, and she took the spindle and wanted to spin too. But scarcely had she touched the spindle when the magic decree was fulfilled, and she pricked her finger with it.
And, in the very moment when she felt the prick, she fell down upon the bed that stood there. Death came for her, but was pushed back by the twelfth woman’s spell. So, as no good comes from magic, death took everyone else in the palace; the King and Queen who had just come home, and had entered the great hall, fell dead as they sat upon their thrones, and the whole of the court with them. The horses, too, died in the stable, the dogs in the yard, the pigeons upon the roof, the flies on the wall; even the fire that was flaming on the hearth died, the roast meat cooled, and the cook died too. The wind fell, and on the trees before the castle, not a leaf moved.
Then round about the castle there grew a great mess of thorns, which each hour became higher, and at last grew close up round the castle and all over it, so that there was nothing of it to be seen, not even the flag upon the roof. The thorns grew far and wide from horizon to horizon and amongst the thorns strange creatures stalked.

The story of the beautiful sleeping "Briar-rose," for so the princess was named, went about the country, so that from time to time kings' sons came and tried to get through the thorns into the castle.
They found it impossible, for the thorns held fast together, as if they had hands, and the youths were caught in them, could not get loose again, and died a miserable death.
After long, long years a King's son came again to that country, and heard an old man talking about the princess in the thorns who had been asleep for a hundred years; and that the King and Queen and the whole court were asleep likewise. He had heard, too, from his grandfather, that many kings' sons had already come, and had tried to get through the thorns, but they had remained stuck fast in it, and had died a pitiful death. Then the youth said, "I am not afraid, I will go and see the beautiful Briar-rose." The good old man might dissuade him as he would, he did not listen to his words.
But by this time the hundred years had just passed, and the magic had grown weak. When the King's son came near to the thorns amongst them there were flowers. The prince took his sword and chopped his way into the thorns, followed by his squire and horse.
But closer to the castle the magic grew stronger, and before long the horse was dead from the poisoned bite of a thing that was not unlike a wolf. The Prince killed the thing with his sword but on the fourth day he too died from the sting of a thing that was not unlike a wasp. The Prince’s young squire picked up the sword and wandered in the thorns for two more days, and with the food all gone thought that death for him would soon be near, but by chance he came upon the castle. In the castle-yard he saw the horses and the spotted hounds lying dead, not asleep as the legend told. He entered the house, through the kitchen past the bones of the cook.

He went on farther, and in the great hall he saw the whole of the court lying dead, and up by the throne lay the bones of the King and Queen.
Then the Squire went on still farther, and all was so quiet that a breath could be heard, and at last he came to the tower, and opened the door into the little room where Briar-rose was sleeping. There she lay, so beautiful that he could not turn his eyes away. The squire knew nothing of magic save for the tails he was told as a small boy, in which a kiss often broke the spell. He stooped down to kiss her, but found that he could not, as his mother had told him it was wrong to steal a kiss. The squire knew though that he would soon die if he didn’t so kissed her on the hand. As soon as he kissed her, Briar-rose opened her eyes and awoke, and looked at him quite sweetly. As he fell to the floor sleeping.
Briar-rose sat up, confused. For as she slept for a hundred years she also dreamed. Dreamed that she had pricked her finger but did not go to sleep. Dreamed that she grew older, fell in love with a knight and married him. Then after many happy years she dreamt her father the king died of old age, then some years later her mother the Queen, and with that she became Queen, and she dreamt she ruled the land for a great many years, and that she and the Knight had many children, and those children had children.
Then at the great age of one hundred and eighteen, long after the death of her beloved husband the Knight, she went to sleep and woke up in the real world, eighteen again, and on the floor, or so she believed, for he looked just like him, her beloved Knight, also somehow made young again.
Briar Rose tried to wake her one true love but he wouldn’t stir. Believing this to be magic of some sort she kissed him to break the spell and he woke on the floor with Briar Rose lying next to him sleeping.
He did not know what had happened. How he, or her, came to lying on the floor. Again he tried to wake the Princess. He kissed her hand and fell asleep.
The Princess woke again to find her beloved lying face down on her arm. She believed she had died in her sleep an aged Queen. And that she had been, in death, reunited with her one true love, but something was wrong. This was neither Heaven nor Hell. She knew noting of the curse that had been put upon her as a child. As the King and Queen had kept that from her.
Perhaps the thing to do was leave this strange place that was like but unlike the castle she knew so well?
The curse had kept her whole these hundred years. So she was able to lift her Knight and using his sword to aid her she climbed down the stairs and left the castle.
Upon leaving the castle, however, she found it to be surrounded by a jungle of thorns. Not put off she carried on. Hoping to find a way out, but instead came upon a thing that was not unlike a wolf. She dropped her beloved and faced the thing. It came at her mouth open, teeth flashing, but she bested the creature. Only to find herself suddenly facing two more. She fought these too, but as she killed one the other bit her badly and three more appeared from within the thorns. She did her best, but was mortally wounded. She fell next to her love and as the wolfen pack closed in, kissed her love one last time.
The Squire woke in the thorns surrounded by wolves. The princess lying dead beside him, horribly blooded. He picked up the sword and had at the creatures with great fury at what they had done. He slew a great many, but as he did more came, and as only one remained he too was mortally wounded. He fell to his knee, next to the Princess to weak to lift the sword and saw that she was not dead but sleeping, and in sleeping her wounds were closing. For it was the way of the curse to keep her unchanging.
The wolf stalked closer and before the Squire died he put the sword in the Princes’s hand and kissed her.
Briar Rose woke to find herself blooded but unwounded next to her dead love, facing one last wolf. Perhaps she was wrong? Perhaps this was the way of hell.
She thought that perhaps she and her Knight would meet again in the next death, and considered letting the wolf take her, but as the wolf leapt for her, her body killed it anyway.

She looked to her knight and cried and through her tears she saw his wounds close and that he was not dead, but sleeping. As they now shared the curse.
The Princess fought the Oberlact and bested it, but with much trouble. The Squire fought the many Latterblat’s and won and near death woke the Princess so that he may sleep and heal once more.
In the fight with the bear like thing that stood as tall as trees they died and slept and slept and died thrice over before the deed was done.
Then one day, while at a river, trying to find a shallow crossing, the Squire met an old woman who laughed and cried and shouted at the Earth and sky just as much as she did the same to him. So the Squire woke the Princess and slept, in the hopes that she might understand the woman better.
Briar Rose woke and saw the old woman she’d met in the tower with a spindle.
It was the thirteenth witch, and as no good comes from magic to anyone. The witch, who was very old at the time of Briar’s birth, much older than anyone has right to remained undying. Entangled in the curse and lived longer than her mind could stand. She saw Briar, un-aged and as beautiful as ever and went to kill her to perhaps end her own tortured self. They struggled by the river side and the witch fell in and was eaten by a monstrous pike, but still the curse was not undone.
Days more passed and as Briar and the Squire slept and fought and healed and fought again it became clear to both that the thorns were moving. The path was changing. They were in an ever changing maze of thorns that wouldn’t let them leave.
Then, as Summer changed to Winter, Briar met a frog that was not a frog. And this frog that stood as a man and just as tall told her that it had been his magic that had brought her into existence inside her mothers belly. So that one day she could be his wife. But Briar didn’t want to be the wife of a frog so fought him, but could not win so woke her Knight who fought him too as she slept. The Squire bested the frog and as he died Briar Rose woke and the thorns began to wither.
The frogs spell had been twisted by the bad witches curse which had been twisted by the good witches wish. Magic over magic over magic.
Briar Rose woke and saw her love still woke and spoke his name.
“Peter.” She said for that was the name of her knight in her dream and also the Squires name. She knew him from the dream, and knew him well. And loved him, and soon he loved her too.
A year later they were married in the castle without much splendour and a year after that they had their first child. The child she’d had in her hundred years dream. In time all her lost dream children and grandchildren were returned to her.
Because sometimes, just sometimes some good comes from magic.

And they lived contented to the end of their days.

Monday, December 11, 2017


“Gonk!” Said Gonk droid, in surprise at finding himself on his side.
Despite their shape, due to their large internal gyroscopes, Gonk droids are almost impossible to knock over.
“Gonk!” he said again, but no one answered.
He’d gone off line in the store cupboard, standing as usual. How was he not standing still?
Gonk looked around. He was lying on his side on the ceiling of the store cupboard, and the place was a mess.
“Gonk!” he exclaimed. How was he on the ceiling? And were was all this water coming from? And why was that also pooling on the ceiling?
Gonk suddenly realised the ship was upside down.

“Gonk!” he called to ship.
“Gonk?” Ship answered. “Is that you? You need to check on the crew. Slate, Faine and Blane aren’t answering.
“Gonk?” Gonk asked.
“We crashed, dummy!” Ship answered, “What do you think happened!?!”
“Gonk? Gonk?” Gonk asked.
“No, it wasn’t the Empire.” Ship told him, “We were leaving Tosche Station when pirates tried to jack us. They holed the hull so we couldn’t escape to space. Blane shot them down, but not before I was too badly damaged to stay airborne.”
“Gonk.” Gonk told ship.
“How?” Ship asked. “I thought you couldn’t knock a Gonk droid over.”
“Gonk.” Gonk answered.
“We’re upside down!” Ship exclaimed. “I just assumed… my sensors are off line. I’m blind.”
“Gonk.” Gonk said.
“We can’t be,” Ship answered. “Tatooine is a desert planet.”
“Gonk.” Gonk pointed out.
“I’m telling you there isn’t enough water in all of Tatoo…” Ship paused.
“Wait a minute, let me check something.” Ship said then instantly continued to say. “We have a fuel leak. That liquid you mentioned isn’t water. It must be fuel. It’s going down quite quickly. It’s leaking up into the ship because the ship is upside down.”
“Gonk?” Gonk asked.
“Yes, but thats the FTL drives.” Ship informed him. “The normal sub-light thrusters still use a liquid fuel.” Ship informed him.
“Gonk.” Gonk said.
“I don’t know.” Ship answered. “Where are you?”
“Gonk.” Gonk answered.
“Wait.” Ship said. “Let me try something.”
The door closed.
“Did the door just close?” She asked.
“Gonk.” Gonk told her.
“Good.” Ship said.
“Gonk Gonk Gonk!” Gonk exclaimed.
“I know.” Ship said. “But Gonk droids float. Once the room floods you’ll float, your gyro’s will self right you, I’ll open the door and you can search the ship for the crew.”
“Gonk!” Gonk exclaimed.
“I’m sure you do float.” Ship answered, “I have memory of Blane saying Gonks float.”
“Gonk!” Gonk pointed out.
“Well I’m sure this was one of the few things he was right about.” Ship tried to assure.
By now Gonk was half submerged.
“Gonk.” He said.
“Well I didn’t think you’d have 100% buoyancy!” Ship said curtly, “All you need is five or ten percent buoyancy.” She estimated, “That should be enough to get you upright I think.”
“Gonk.” Gonk said.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Ship said, “Just don’t make any sparks or the fuel will blow us all into a million, million parts.”
“Gonk.” Gonk said.
“Hey,” Ship conceded. “I know that might be a tall order for a walking battery, but do your best.”
Gonk always found the analogy that he was a walking battery offensive. As he was, in fact, a walking generator. Something that, he felt, was a parsec away from just a simple battery.

Gonk was now almost totally submerged by the highly flammable liquid.
“Gonk.” Gonk pointed out.
“I’m just going off what Blane said.” Ship said, “I don’t have detailed files on Gonk droids.”
Gonk was now under fuel. He was a generator droid. His only function was to generate electricity and he was fully submerged in highly explosive fuel.
He shifted slightly. He did float! Well… not so much float as weigh considerably less when submerged. In normal gravity he would self right from anything up to a 45 degree angle. His gyro’s were that good.
He tried to self right. Whirred his gyro’s to their maximum revs and managed a 15 degree re-right before his feet caught on the floor (ceiling).
He could stand! He could do it once the fuel was deep enough.
“Gonk!” He told ship.
Ship was delighted.
The fuel was now at least three feet deep. He tried again. Span his gyro’s to the max, then beyond excepted safety levels… and… stood up!
“GONK!!!” he shouted. “Gonk! Gonk!”
“Great!” Said ship, “ I’m going to open the door. Just stay stood up.”
“Gonk.” Gonk said.
The door opened and the fuel drained out. Except the for the last eight inches, because the door didn’t go all the way up to the ceiling. Which was now the floor.
Gonk didn’t like the way the lighting in the hall was flashing and he didn’t like the intermittent buzzing sound either. It looked like a short somewhere, and the ship had a lot of fuel sloshing around.
Gonk looked at the eight inch high threshold he now had to step over.

“Gonk.” He said to ship.
“Which idiot designed you!?!” Ship shouted. “Well how much can you step over?”
“Gonk.” Gonk told her.
“Well that’s just great that is!” Ship complained.
“Gonk!” Gonk told her.
“Actually, most astromech droids can fly.” Ship informed him. “They have little jets that come out of the sides.”
“Gonk.” Gonk pointed out.
“Good point.” Ship admitted.
“Gonk Gonk.” Said Gonk 
“Alright!” She exclaimed. “It’s not a competition! Look around. Is there anything we can use?”
Gonk looked around.
“Gonk.” He said.
“Really?” Ship asked, “I feel like we’re so close.
“Gonk, Gonk… Gonk!” Gonk realised.
“Go for it!” Ship encouraged.
Gonk waded through the fuel to one of the lockers. The handle was pretty much at the same hight as the panel his visual sensor and diagnostic panel was set into. Could it be that easy? He walked into the locker door and leant forward until his panel was tucked in just under the locker handle. He pushed up, which would have been down if the locker were the right way up and the locker opened, and the spare grav-plates tumbled out, into the fuel.
It was about time something when his way.
With his feet, Gonk shuffled one of the three inch thick square plates towards the door. He stepped up onto it. Then tried to step over the threshold. He was still an inch short. He looked back to the other grav-plates lying under the fuel. He needed to stack one on the one he was standing on and butt another up to it to make a makeshift staircase. The problem was he had no way to pick a plate up to put it on top of another.
He turned back to the threshold and tried again. This time leaning back to his maximum 45 degrees he stuck his foot out. It only just met the top of the threshold. He stood on tip toes to get extra height and pushed. Managing to scrape his foot over the step. Suddenly it dropped down the other side and he fell out onto his face.

Gonk had managed to get out of a cupboard.

“Gonk!” Gonk told ship.
“Excellent!” Ship exclaimed, “Make your way to the cockpit. They were all there when we crashed.”
“Gonk.” Gonk informed her.
“How are you on your face!?!” Ship exclaimed.
“Gonk, Gonk.” Gonk said.
“Un-bel-ievable!” Ship shouted. “What happened to it being impossible to knock a Gonk over?”
Gonk felt sad. If he’d been an early EG6 model he would have had a front manipulator arm which would have been really useful right now, but he was a GNK model and some design genius had decided he didn’t need it.
He tried to think. If you’re a Gonk droid how do you get off your face?
He waved is little feet about bit. That didn’t work. He span his gyro’s and waved his feet about and still didn’t move.
He cursed his designers. Other droids had jets in their legs. Some had grappling hooks they could shoot out. Lot’s had arms. Actual arms! BB units were balls. There was no wrong way up for them.
Another thing his designers hadn’t thought to give him was much in the way of brains. The first twelve years of his existence he’d had less intelligence than a womp rat. Faine had boosted his intelligence nearly a year ago. Doubled it. She could do anything. Unfortunately double IQ still wasn’t exactly genius, because he’d started out so low. He thought and thought and thought.
And he had an idea!
“Gonk, Gonk, Gonk!” Gonk said.
“Why didn’t I think of that!?!” Ship exclaimed, and Gonk flew up to the ceiling as ship turned the grav-plating on the floor above him on and the artificial gravity the ship normally used in space pulled him up into the air. The fuel in the hall sploshed up to the floor too.
Gonk crashed into the floor that was now the ceiling and found himself back on his side. Looking up the hall to the flashing, buzzing light. The short was just round the corner. The whole ship could blow up at any moment.
“Gonk. Gonk. Gonk. Gonk.” Gonk told ship.
“Okay, Ready when you are.” Answered ship.
“Gon…k!” Gonk shouted, ship turned the plating off and Gonk fell as he whirred his gyro’s to max.
He self righted mid-air and landed on his feet.
It was by far the most acrobatic thing a Gonk droid had ever done.

Gonk had managed to get out of a cupboard and stand up.

Filled with pride, Gonk walked along the ceiling which was now the floor, towards the cockpit.
“If we’d thought of turning the plating on earlier you could have just walked out of the cupboard normally.” Ship pointed out.
“Gonk.” Said Gonk.
The cockpit was smashed. It looked like the ship had been driven into a vertical rock face. Crushing the front of the ship.
Slate and Blane were dead. Faine was unconscious, bleeding badly from a head wound.
“Gonk. Gonk. Gonk.” Gonk told ship. Then to Faine, “GONK!”
Faine didn’t wake. Gonk nudged her with one of his corners, and said “Gonk.”
She was lying in a couple inches of fuel. Despite the continuing leak it wasn’t getting any deeper. Which meant it was draining away somewhere.
Gonk nudged Faine again. “Gonk?” He asked, but she didn’t reply. Gonk loved Faine the way a pet might love its owner. She’d boosted his IQ. He’d been looking at her when she’d activated the extra processing power. When he’d woken up.
“What’s happening?” Ship asked.
“Gonk.Gonk.Gonk.Gonk.” Gonk told her.
“You need to get her out.” Said ship. “I could explode at any second!"
“Gonk.Gonk” Gonk told her.
Gonk nudged Faine with a corner again. She stirred and groaned.
“Gonk!” Gonk urged her.
“Faine! Wake up!” ship repeated.
“Whu? What… What happened?” Faine asked. Then started coughing.
“We crashed!” Ship told her. “There’s fuel everywhere. You need to get out before I explode.”
“Blane? Slate?” Faine asked between coughing.
“I’m sorry Faine,” Ship said. “They’re dead.”
Faine tried to get up. Her coughing got worse.
“Gonk?” Gonk asked.
“It’s the fumes from the fuel.” Ship told him. “A stray spark could even ignite the air.”
Faine couldn’t stand. She could hardly breathe.
“Gonk.Gonk.Gonk.” Gonk asked.
“Yes, I can do that.” Ship answered, “I do it anyway when we’re on low gravity planets.”
“Gonk.Gonk.” said Gonk, and ship brought the grav-plating on line above Faine, but only at ten percent power. The gravity above her pulled her away from the planet slightly, making her weigh less. Ship turned the plating up to twenty percent. Faine could really feel it now. The fuel around her could too. In the lower gravity it sloshed around more and more and started to form into a hump.
Gonk had turned his magnetic feet on so wasn’t going anywhere.
Eventually Faine was in a micro gravity. It took almost no effort to stand.
“Gonk.Gonk.” Gonk told her and she lay across him.
“I think the hatch is open.” Ship told Gonk, “You should just be able to walk out.”
“Gonk. Gonk.” Gonk told her.
“No. Leave me.” Ship answered, “You’ve stayed too long already.”
“Gonk.” Gonk told her.
“You’re being ridiculous!” Ship told him. “You’re not a shock trooper, you’re a Gonk droid!”
“GONK.GONK.GONK.” said Gonk.
“He’s right,” Faine said, “Take me there, Gonk.”
With Faine lying on Gonk, Gonk waded through the fuel to Ships core. With everything she had Faine managed to pull Ships core. A cylindrical object about the size of a flask pulled from the wall.
Slowly Gonk turned and walked out, with Faine lying on top of him. Faine holding ship’s brain.
As Gonk slowly trudged away the ship behind him finally blew. He walked from the explosion. He didn’t run and didn’t look back. Because he couldn’t run and was incapable of looking back.

Slowly, in the baking heat Gonk walked through the desert. He saw rocky region in the distance, and made for that in the hopes that he could find shelter there.
“Hold it!” Someone shouted to their right. Faine twisted her he’d to see who it was and Gonk turned the ninety degrees he needed to see.
From the looks of him he was a space pirate. Going off his considerable injuries he was one of the pirates Blane had shot down.
Did he want revenge? Did he just want to steel Gonk and Ship’s brain? Gonk didn’t know.
Gonk just blasted him with a huge electrical discharge. A blot of lightning.

Gonk had got out of a cupboard, stood up, saved the girls and killed the bad guy.

The suns went down and extreme heat gave way to extreme cold. They found a sheltered area and Faine climbed off Gonk. She was cold so Gonk ran hot. He was a generator unit. Inside his casing he was mostly a fusion reactor. It was easy to generate way more power than he needed, and vent the heat exhaust Faine’s way.

Then Gonk became aware of a few pale lights around them. Out of the gloom droids emerged. Lots of old battered, rusty, damaged droids.
“Beep-bee-boop-bee-weep” One of them said, finishing with a whistle.
“Gonk. Gonk.” Gonk said and they moved nearer. They were running low on power and he had all they needed. Three at a time they attached and drew the power they need for a recharge.
“Beep-dawooop-ding.” An R4 unit told him. “Beep-boop-bee-doop” It continued.
They’d been on a Jawa transport when it had been attacked by Storm Troopers. All the Jawa’s had been killed, and many droids. Including the Gonk that was with them. None of them knew why they’d done it. They’d been hiding in the caves ever since.
Luckily one of them was a medi-bot and it tended to Faine.
Gonk was pleased with himself. He’d done it. He’d saved them. Maybe Ship would see him in a different light now. Maybe he stood a chance with her.

Now that he was a hero.

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some sort of artist or something. with problems and issues. I draw stuff
All cartoons and original writing ©Nigel Auchterlounie 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012