All the Cures That Ail Us — Page 32
So ends the sixth chapter. The next chapter will start pretty soon, because the cover and the first page are already in the bag. I have been so busy at work I have been delayed in posting finished pages here. I apologize for that. I am actually more productive than my posting frequency would indicate. I’m trying to rectify that by setting alarms in my calendar. ADHD coping tools ftw.
↓ Transcript
Panel 1: Bridget flies to comfort Owen, who looks distraught. Pooka stands in the back with Brian.
BRIDGET: Don’t listen to Pooka. He’s just a jerk. We’ll protect you.
POOKA: I was just kidding.
BRIAN: Hilarious, mate.
OWEN: Why did I come here?
Panel 2: Brian sits on one side of Owen, his arm around her. Bridget sits on her other shoulder.
BRIDGET: Poor love. It is a lot to take in. Take some time to set and think.
BRIAN: We got ya, mate. No harm will come to ya. Not on my watch.
Panel 3: Brian, Owen, and Bridget are startled by a voice off-panel.
DUNCAN: My god, have ye gone soft….
Panel 4: View from behind Brian, Owen, and Bridget, who see Duncan Blackwood, sword in hand, backlit by sun breaking through the trees. Behind him, Geach Curlew leers at them.
BRIAN: Hello, Father. It’s good to see you.
DUNCAN: Liar. My scythe, boy. Hand it over.
Or watch your friends bleed from their throats.
BRIDGET: Don’t listen to Pooka. He’s just a jerk. We’ll protect you.
POOKA: I was just kidding.
BRIAN: Hilarious, mate.
OWEN: Why did I come here?
Panel 2: Brian sits on one side of Owen, his arm around her. Bridget sits on her other shoulder.
BRIDGET: Poor love. It is a lot to take in. Take some time to set and think.
BRIAN: We got ya, mate. No harm will come to ya. Not on my watch.
Panel 3: Brian, Owen, and Bridget are startled by a voice off-panel.
DUNCAN: My god, have ye gone soft….
Panel 4: View from behind Brian, Owen, and Bridget, who see Duncan Blackwood, sword in hand, backlit by sun breaking through the trees. Behind him, Geach Curlew leers at them.
BRIAN: Hello, Father. It’s good to see you.
DUNCAN: Liar. My scythe, boy. Hand it over.
Or watch your friends bleed from their throats.
Spread the joy:
Discussion ¬