Work in Progress.

This is the right shoulder of Gauntlet, from Heroes of Newerth. John used to play it all the time. I was going to draw a friend of mine up in the Basel as Gauntlet, because Gauntlet's hand explodes into divine flame.

After tinkering around with it for a little, and preparing to add the head, and a menacingly curled normal-arm in the distance, I'd overheard a long-winded and angry rant. Someone's friend, it seemed, is on their umpteenth divorce, chasing that 'Spark' of initial romance or whatever.

All through the panes of my window, all I could hear were lines like, "Sometimes, life happens", and "There aren't that many modern-day love stories", and "So many people seem perfect and then they fall apart."

I don't know how to feel about that, but it made me question what I was doing, propping my feet up to doodle. I'm going to take life by the horns again.

I have to be.
I have to do.
I am a Rearden.

I am.
I think.
I will.

I will not be a statistic.
I will break the mold.
I will tear this stupid sense of complacency way from myself.
I am a work in progress, and my progress will not be halted.