Fall, Take Two.

There comes a point when you realize that what needs to be fixed and what could go wrong mean it would be easier to start over and try again.
We have reached that point.
Oh well.
At least I've got some scratch paper now.
And a place to test the blended colors before I apply them to the final picture.
Hopefully I won't make the same mistakes a second time.
For yellow is an unforgiving color.
Dark enough to cause problems when it's in the wrong place.
Light enough to let the pencil marks shine through.
Ah well, such is the life of an elf.

I know they're not going to do it, but I want them to.

The worst part of watching a show is when you want the story to go one way but know it probably won't.

Even if the pieces are set for it to happen.

Even if it would make sense.
Even if it could make the overall story more interesting.

But since it throws the love story away, it probably won't.

Even though it would be better.

(At least I think it would be.)

Because the love story route is the easy route, and wastes the opportunity of the other story line.

I guess I'll just have to keep watching, and hope to be pleasantly surprised.

Even though I'm pretty sure that I won't be because as loosely based on history as this is, they'll probably be sure to use that.

Ow.

Since confirming that gravity was still in effect last Sunday I've apparently decided to single-handedly keep Band-Aid in business.

(I also confirmed that the ground is hard, and the immovable object is indeed immovable.)

Orange.

So much orange.
It's a little more forgiving than red.
(But not by much.)

And we're done.

The changes from The Second Red Edit have been entered.
181,812 words and 289 pages have taken their bows and left the stage.
There's still more to cut, but I think it's time for a break.
Right after I fix that one scene that's been bugging me.
Then it's definitely break time.
Unless I think of something else.
But after that, break.
Maybe.

Whatever happened to just lowering your voice a little?

Who decided that Batman had to sound like he smoked 500 packs of cigarettes a day, was a robot, or had been turned into a constipated dinosaur?

(And on a completely unrelated note, how did Professor X not know about Iceman?)