Death: C’mon, son. You don’t need to worry about him.
[Stage 2 – Limited Release Complete]
Anderson (thinking): Don’t cry, child. Didn’t you become a vampire so you wouldn’t have to cry?
Don’t give that up now. Besides, it doesn’t suit you.
Go back to that proud, arrogant smile you do so well.
Alucard: Don’t give up! Giving up is what kills people!
Anderson (thinking): I see…I had it wrong all along.
It’s true, it doesn’t matter what form you take. You’re always the same underneath. Not a monster…
…but a child. One who became a monster because he was scared of the dark.
Anderson (thinking): Four limbs lost. Torso in pieces. Lungs bisected. Heart soon to fail. I couldn’t regenerate fast enough to fix that.
Didn’t think it would still hurt this much after I was dead…but I can’t still be alive…
Alucard: Come on! Regenerate! You can fight this!
Anderson (thinking): …because that would never happen in reality.
A sneak backstage peek at the half-finished version of last Sunday’s strip.
A behind-the-scenes look at how these strips work when they’re half-finished. (Or, alternatively, a way to get two days’ worth of comic out of a single strip.)
Figures have to be sketched in some detail to make the inking look good.
The strip is drawn on a single page, in two columns which are combined later.
I used to carry my sketchbook with me, sketching and inking things on the go and only scanning them when I got home. To make sure I didn’t lose track of the dialogue in the meantime, I would write it all in. These days, I do it all at home, so I only have to jot brief notes of dialogue.
With these long and narrow Sundays, I ink the main outline first, and work out the lines between panels as I draw in the figures.
The mini version of the logo gets shoved in wherever I can fit it.
Alucard: Anderson! You can’t die now! We never finished our fight!
Anderson: It’s called a Nail of Helena. (No relation.) It’s a relic salvaged from the Cross. And aye, I do mean that cross.
I could have used it on myself. Could have submitted myself to a power that passes understanding. But I’m a priest.
You? You’re unholy. And the Lord separates the sheep from the goats.
Congratulations. You’ve just been deus ex machina’d.
iJeeves: Your efforts to keep Church secrets are admirable, but futile. I can see, all too clearly…
…that your fourth-dimensional pocket holds something more potent than bayonets.
And in a few short moments I shall know what it is…
iJeeves: The unhinged regenerator reappears. It is always difficult to manipulate the psychology of a disturbed individual…
…but perhaps there will be something of interest here nonetheless.
Ah, I see.
Your sanity has been clinging to a few fragile anchors.
iJeeves: I’m afraid you will have to move more quickly than that.