I love how this comic is good even when it isn't actually moving anyplace. Even the interlude is brilliant.
You guys are fantastic, really.
I also love how parts of this thread have almost become poetic in and of themselves. Is it the influence of the subject matter, or the minds that tend to hang about here, or a merging of both?
The definition seems like a stopgap, to borrow from Umberto Eco. I think it makes the transition a bit nicer instead of immediately jumping straight into the random sidetrack.
I'd venture that the meagre geography of Britannia has a greater influence than Her modest meteorology.
Yes, we've all been living on islands since Pangea, but whatever the disaster, whoever’s the father, it’s likely to polish the same reflection on a crowded populace; do we need a culling and what side of it would I, should I end up on?
just had a thought ... anyone wondering about the parents of the freakangels? i hadn't thought of it until now, but it had to have been some kind of momentous occasion. are they hanging around or did they not survive the births?
it would have been such tabloid fodder one imagines. all those red-tops hustling for snaps of the babies so they could proclaim to the world all kinds of ill-informed opinions.
that's a pretty big assumption though. there would be some mileage in exploring the relationship between someone who has the powers of a freakangel and the person that bore them who doesn't.