#but she is a character that is From The Mojave. she has history here. this is part of why lonesome road can't come up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

corporatefallout · 6 months ago

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Information upon the characters in the AU

[OUTDATED]

Done for basically explanation of my ideas I have so far and my own interpretations.

Heheh. I'll try to describe what I mean and or think here.

Buck Ruffler

Of course, a gambler in the Mojave except I kinda see him to be the type to use chems like Jet for recreational purposes aka fun. His luck ultimately being how he survives and has fun in casinos. And also the reason he's often kicked out. He finds happiness in the little things but nothing like "anything will make him happy" type. But due to Chem usages, he has memory gaps from his past. He could mention something vague yet helpful but never remember where or who it came from. Trilingual too, English, Spanish, and a secret third thing.

Brian

The Institute considers him a useful asset within the robotics division and a pain to work with. He berates both coworkers and synths. Mostly synths, due to viewing them as inferior and only used to serve the Institute. Tech and robotics expert who will insult you after requesting him to hack a terminal or for simply not knowing something he knows. Probably had a parasocial hatred against Brian Virgil for the sole reasons of having the same name. Although Brian succeeds in his intelligence, combat skills aren't too good and would pay for a hired gun or take a synth with him to the Commonwealth. Driven on statistics even if they can be incredibly cruel.

Mary Anna

I think Mary would admire how nature had shifted and changed from the radiation and aftermath of the war. Both the wildlife and plant growth. Gives a sense of hope that life will go on despite what occurs. She would be a helpful hand for anyone that comes looking for it. Yet they would also think more deeply upon either groups or conflicts occurring (CoA, Acadia, Far Harbor tension) rather to make an immediate opinion or choices. Understanding both sides and where they come from. And definitely keeping the dislike for superficiality for her. She'd hate insults towards groups/factions, it's childish and unnecessary to her. Imagine researching the wasteland creatures and you can gush with her on what you learned.

Misty Monsoon

I'm not entirely sure of how to describe her socially, but I think it would be more like introverted. She seeks friends but would admire alone time with herself. Able to find company with the wildlife she manages to befriend. Yet also very timid and wary of everyone, not in paranoia but just in cautiousness. Plus, the fog already made people crazy and dangerous, so it's only natural she would be more cautious of who she meets. They'd probably talk awkwardly at first but slowly gain more confidence with the person as it goes on. And that is one thing she has problems with, confidence. Not to "unable to ask for no pickles" but rather to either stand up for herself or gain courage. But befriend her and she will have you play prewar games with her that she was taught as a kid.

Holly Grayelle

I want her to live up to the gatekeeper name and with the likes and dislikes list. With her high rank as a knight and practically being raised in the BoS since as a child, she's absolutely loyal and believes in their words. For better or worse. She dislikes anyone that isn't to her rank or shows that they deserve her respect. Her likes for key workers on the list gave me the idea of her having favorites. In a battle, she will save/help those she deems necessary and needed but leave others behind. But despite that, she's often pushing others as well to go above or do better. Pride is what drives her for sure and she would scoff in your direction if you were a mere wastelander. Or an initiate. Ask her about power armor and opinions regarding it and you'll be ready for an entire lesson with history upon it before you hear her opinion.

Prester Virgil

He's going to absolutely yap about either the Minutemen or how much he hates the Institute, Gunners, Steel, and Chem addicts. But despite that, he means well and his methods aren't too great when you think about it. He's paranoid, that's what he is. A prideful, paranoid, and ambitious old man. He fears the fall of the Minutemen that comes either due to everything against them or himself. If you show signs of being a synth then it's on sight. And with a power trip he has, it's not gonna be good either. But I think he would be a sentimental and a grateful person for how long he has been surviving. He does genuinely love helping others for their own sakes. It's only his pride and ego. He has hope that he cannot tell is diminishing or increasing. He's also sleep deprived and has several cats that he has names for individually.

Benjamin Biggs

He got the whole medic thing from "healing bell" and I love it. I'm sure his bag is filled with both medical supplies and chems but their usages are for medical purposes only. Buck steals the Jet. And Chip later sells them. And Benjamin is absolutely is knowledgeable regarding the news of where he is. Whether it be the current events of the Mojave NCR stuff or the gossips of so and so. If you asked him the latest news it's either about what atrocities the Legion did or how the bar owner's wife cheated on him and took the dog. I don't think he's outright nice or the purest angel in the slightest. Of course, he's not going to murder or steal, but he's cocky and some either think he's insufferable due to his snarkiness or how much he talks. Still hasn't changed since leaving the vault.

Cathal Bravecog

I haven't really thought much about him, I'll be honest. But the ideas I do have is that he's not at all interested in anything at all revolving outside. Having an oddly high intelligence from countless of books being read and whatever is playing upon TV. Or perhaps the radio as well. Do they have no hope for the future? Nah. They're just... not really interested in the outside and views no reason to leave. Nothing cathartic or nihilistic at all. The way to bond with Cathal is by joining in with him or small talk or chat. Like a hermit crab yet content. Haven't fully decided yet of what they are. Possible vault dweller maybe.

Belle Dama

The absolute good and the true angel of them all. "Long distance relationship" term reminds me of a sniper rifle and she would be absolutely cool with one. She's the mom of the group and nobody will be hungry or left out when she's there. Absolute hope that she has for the future and admiration of the youth. I think she would know and sense when somethings wrong after knowing a person for a bit. And she's there for them. She loves it when you help with others and show decent kindness. For the world needs it now than ever. Why else would she become a lawbringer of the regulators? Talk with her and she either recounts her stories or have a pleasant chat about anything, really. But she prefers a more quieter life.

Dave Brubot

Absolute charismatic man, what can I say? I'm making him bisexual because NV allows it. Also, he would definitely be a flirtatious man. Not for taking advantage but more on the usages of persuasion to get out of more violent and confrontational situations. Do enough good for others and he will call you his hero that the wasteland needs more of. Let your voice be heard for he will drag you right into attention whether you like it or not. He would be needed to be pushed a bit more before he takes actions.

Flint Bonpyre

I think he would be a slight coward but kept to a low-key standard. But the moment the Legion arrives and after Primm, he just deserts the NCR because there's no way he's going to fight against them. So right now he's tagging along with Graham. But not mindlessly, I'll say. They're not going to jump off a cliff if he does so too. But at least he has good combat experience and knowledge to help him. But when you try talking to him then he's just just going to be nervous and shy, because who are you and why did you choose to speak to him out of everyone? He fears the future and what will come.

Cosmo Kuiper

Anything he does is done out of greed and for his own self needs/wants. And he knows how to get it from some knowledge of prewar history. Often his services range from either guards and protection. And to get his money he does not at all view threats whether it be verbal or physical to be excessive. He will get that money no matter what the person's problem are. Notably cruel and dangerous upon meeting them. But I'd think his charisma would be the reason that people don't run from him or stop business. Because he knows how things are run and why. So, knowledge. Yipee.

Spruce Campbell

At first I think he would work for and with groups in regards of mercenaries but later drops out to do his own work. Originally first surviving for himself until meeting Chip, where they now both work together for both of their survival and wants. He's talkative and extroverted but not to a degree of Benjamin. More coarse and joking in a rude manner. A good amount of charisma which works in turn for what he and Chip does. That being general theft. Stealing to either trade/sell off or just because they just wanted it. He distracts. I don't want him to be a simple friend towards Chip, but to rather act like an actual brother to him. Both hit it off upon first meeting and their friendship only improves from there on out. Chip wouldn't hide anything from him and Spruce wouldn't push it towards a rude joking manner. Maybe a few jokes but he would be good help and support. Except if you tried to vent to him then he might just joke about it than actually help.

Chip Revvington

If anything, he enjoys being alone and honestly doesn't like people too much. Not in a "I hate everything" manner. Having diminishing hope for the future. If you ever sat down and said hi, he would look at you for a brief moment then walk away from you without another word. He has average knowledge of lockpicking but has developed good skills when it comes to pickpocketing. So while Spruce distracts, he would get to work and both leave when they're done. I think one of his problems would be anger issues which definitely made problems and caused mistakes he deeply regrets. I'm still debating this, but him being ex-enclave or maybe even current is something I want to do. On one hand, return to Americana. But on the other, he feels absolutely hopeless dread and views that there's little to no hope for the future of humanity.

Tawney C. Esta

Since he is an owl, and the sandman perk is used when people are sleeping I made him basically an hired assassin because it's cool. He sleeps through the day and works through the night. Either to do a hired job or simple relaxing while the radio is on. I think they'll present themselves in a formal manner than as your average mercenary. To show civility and professionalism. They don't seem too keen or interested with events on the wasteland. Tawney is roughly neutral with what they do but not at a moral struggle. If it makes money then it'll work. Plus, it's a job he finds easy. I kinda view them to be like a Tenpenny tower type of resident. Although less snob for sure.

Graham Payser

A renegade who's here for fun and possibly desensitized to gore. Unapologetically and brutally honest towards others. I think he would run off to do what he views to be fun, but I wouldn't place him to the levels of a raider when it comes to that. Despite how abrasive he comes off as, he does have manners and morals. And would secretly hold judgement towards everyone except Flint. But also, he wouldn't just throw Flint into danger blindly. Graham would be an adrenaline junkie and is why he goes on in life. He found formal life to be more boring, despite it being what many people desire. He's a trigger happy man who will most likely miss every single time. Also, he has a stigmatism hence the shades. He would absolutely argue with a child. And if he sees you drink or use chems, he's going to openly judge you and laugh at you. The type to take the D.A.R.E program to heart.

Oki. That's all i have for now. I don't fully have a good grasp on some of these characters too. Probably mainly Flint and Cosmo. I have the concepts but my ability to describe is very low. Some of these might change too.

#corporate fallout #fallout!duckshuffler #fallout!prethinker #fallout!deepdiver #fallout!rainmaker #fallout!gatekeeper #fallout!witchhunter #fallout!bellringer #fallout!multislacker #fallout!mouthpiece #fallout!majorplayer #fallout!firemaker #fallout!plutocrat #fallout!treekiller #fallout!chainsawconsultant #fallout!featherbedder #fallout!pacesetter

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nightingaelic · 4 years ago

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POODLES IN THE WASTELAND

i jest I jest

But 👀

What about pets? Either ones companions would have or a very uncommon one that someone wouldn’t think was a good pet, BUT IS. Deathclaws you can ride like a pony, mole rats that want belly rubs, cazadore’s as cattier pigeons! What are your thoughts?

Or like, Danse or Piper or Fawkes with something hilarious Idek ignore me

Oooookay, here’s my comprehensive list of companions - ALL companions, across Fallouts 3, 4, New Vegas and 76 - and their (headcanon) choices in wasteland pets. I’ll give a little explanation for each - particularly as many of these companions are transients and don’t have the luxury of owning a home to keep pets at. Also, I feel like most of the companions, while they might not necessarily like pets, would be somewhat fond or at least respectful of the pets of the Lone Wanderer/Courier/Sole Survivor/Vault Dweller, like Dogmeat and Rex.

Bighorners

Lily Bowen: Everyone’s favorite super mutant grandma is already an experienced shepherdess in Jacobstown, and she’s more than willing to tear some night stalkers apart to keep her herd safe. If that’s not love beyond the norm for wasteland livestock, I don’t know what is. She’s probably given all of her bighorners names after the characters in the television reruns she used to watch on holotape in Vault 17, like Grace and Audrey and Lucille.

Brahmin

Raul Tejada: Actually spent a decent part of his pre-war life living on a ranch, so he knows that most brahmin don’t deserve being labeled “irritable” just because people don’t know how to read their body language. I think he’d follow wild brahmin herds around a bit on a whim and keep them from coming to any harm, especially the little ones. He gives them names like the cattle he grew up with, Corazon and Gordo and Blanca.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Doesn’t truck with the wild herds, but she knows that part of the success of a caravan lies with how well they treat their pack animals. All of her caravan’s brahmin have names - Penny, Magic and Sprinkles - and she’s careful to pair them up with drivers who are patient and work well with their various personalities.

Cats

Butch DeLoria: While Butch ultimately decided to leave Vault 101 behind, I don’t think he would ever truly lose his fear of radroaches after what they did to his mom. Having a little friend to warm his bunk in Rivet City and pounce on intruders would probably set his mind at ease, maybe a black tomcat with one ear named Pepper. He might even gift his mom a kitten when he next comes to visit.

Star Paladin Cross: I don’t think Cross much sees the use of an animal that doesn’t contribute to the community it lives in, like most of the Brotherhood of Steel. Cats, however, are excellent at pest control, even if the rats are bigger nowadays. I think she’d give the resident cats at the Citadel some pets in passing, and she’d smile when she has to extract playful kittens from inside her power armor frame. She’s especially fond of the cat colony’s matriarch, a scarred old tabby named Gemma.

Curie: Upon her transition into a synth body, Curie is overjoyed with most animals and their new willingness to approach her for attention. She especially loves cats because she can pick them up and better feel their fur and purring. Her favorite cat is an orange stray in Diamond City that she calls Claude.

Piper Wright: A companion for Nat when she’s out adventuring, an unbiased friend to bounce the latest opinion piece off of before going to print, and a lap-warmer for when you’re typing up the latest article about the exploits of the Minutemen - what’s not to like? The Wright family cat is a slippery, elegant calico named Sugar Bomb.

Preston Garvey: While the Minutemen forts and settlements definitely lean more toward keeping dogs around for security purposes, I think Preston likes his pets quieter and less likely to bowl you over in excitement. The one most likely to sleep with him in his bunk at Sanctuary is a grumpy gray gentleman named Anchovy.

Deathclaws

Veronica Santangelo: If anyone is crazy enough to swipe a deathclaw egg from a nest and try to hatch, rear and train a personal killing machine named Izzy, it’s Veronica. This will probably just alienate her from her Brotherhood chapter even more, but I’m sure she would take special care to make sure that her usual Mojave Wasteland haunts take a peek through a scope to see if the approaching deathclaw has a human on its back before taking a shot.

Dogs

Clover: I don’t think Clover gets out beyond Paradise Falls much, so the only animals she’s used to are the dogs the raiders bring around when passing through. She probably has favorites among the usual visitors and enjoys tossing them bits of meat when she’s allowed to get away from Eulogy and Crimson. If liberated, she’d probably get at least three of her own dogs to watch over her while she sleeps: One small dog to carry with her, a Pekingese or Pomeranian descendant named Coco, and two large dogs to follow through on intimidation and protection, a mastiff named Rock and a Doberman descendant named Roll.

Jericho: Jericho doesn’t deserve a dog but he’d probably have one around anyway to sniff out caps caches and hidden loot after he’s shot everyone in the vicinity. Some slinky beagle mix named Dewey, probably.

Fawkes: I don’t think Fawkes would be picky at all about what kind of dog he’d have. He strikes me as the type who would adopt any half-friendly mutt he ran across. I do think he would have a bit of a soft spot for friendlier mutant hounds, though, and maybe view their mutated circumstances as similar to his own. He’d also be absolutely amazing at playing fetch. Just imagine how far he could lob a stick or ball. All of his dogs would have literary names too, like Byron and Agatha and Edgar.

Craig Boone: Though he’s a bit of a prodigy at sniping, Boone knows his limitations when it comes to spotting hidden enemies on the horizon. I can see him having a hound dog at his side to find the more elusive ones and help him get rid of them faster. Maybe a bloodhound mutt named Bravo.

Cait: Doesn’t like people, but she adores dogs. Having had the life where she’s been abused, exploited and forced into slavery, she’s keenly aware that those like the ones who took advantage of her treat dogs much the same. She’s very protective of any dog she encounters and is very likely to punch you in the face if you so much as look at one wrong. She’d probably name any pup she adopted Lucky.

Hancock: Honestly, he’s just a fan of any animal that is happy to hang out with you whether you’re drunk, high, fighting raiders or patrolling downtown Boston. The Goodneighbor strays know him as the guy who always has mirelurk jerky in his pockets. His favorite is a rough-and-tumble, black-and-white spotted cattle dog descendant that he cheekily calls King George.

Robert MacCready: He’s not quick to trust dogs, but once he’s sure they’re not a threat, they’re one of the few critters around which he’ll relax completely. He’s still a little wary of them around Duncan, but any dog that’s a part of his family is more or less his son’s permanent babysitter.

Nick Valentine: Dogmeat is also basically his dog. The two have a history of working cases together, with Dogmeat just turning up whenever a trail goes cold and leading Nick to the evidence he needs to reopen his investigation. Nick doesn’t know how or why Dogmeat does it, but he’s not about to ruin a good thing.

Strong: I don’t think he would turn down a ferocious mutant hound as a friend. He’d probably feed it mole rats and call it something like Killer.

Foxes

Beckett: This former raider has a love-hate relationship with a fox that keeps going through his trash. He affectionately calls him Lil’ Bastard.

Sofia Daguerre: Having crashed back to an earth she doesn’t recognize, I think Sofia would be tickled that the foxes of Appalachia have basically stayed the same despite the bombs. I can see her leaving dinner scraps out on her porch for one that she sometimes spots in the foliage, and slowly coaxing the critter to come into the light. She names her Scarlett once she finally convinces her to eat out of her hand.

Mega sloths

Settler forager: I would not be at all surprised if this man ran into a mega sloth in the Mire and decided to try befriending it. The creature, probably surprised at this old guy’s nerve, decided to accept the handful of leaves he offered and grew slowly more fond of the guy’s persistence. It doesn’t know its name is Fergus but it does know that if a human is wearing overalls, it’s probably not a threat.

Mole rats

Deacon: Alright, hear me out. Deacon has a fondness for underdogs, and mole rats are about as underdog as they come. I think Deacon thinks these little guys are cute despite their wrinkles and buck teeth, and I think he sees the value in having a tunneling pet that likes to collect shiny things. One of his deep cover hideouts is in an old tunnel system in the northern Commonwealth, where he hangs out with a young mole rat named Henry.

Owls

Raider punk: This radio operator got wind of an abandoned nest of owlets in Appalachia early on in his career and, being the nearest to the report, decided to rescue the little guys. Now he has three owls that occasionally drop in at his camp to hoot and accept handouts: Nona, Decima and Morta. While he’s still fond of them, he’s usually disappointed that they aren’t the Mothman coming to visit.

Rad chickens

Yasmin Chowdhury: Ever the opportunistic cook, she picked up the practice of raising chickens from the settlers at Foundation and has four hens of her own: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme. The “ladies,” as she refers to them, give her a constant stream of eggs for omelets.

Ravens

Settler wanderer: This gal has an affinity with birds, who are always on the move like her. She admires their ability to be untethered and let the wind take them far and wide. Nevertheless, she likes to scatter corn when they come close to her on the road, and formed a sort of friendship with a particularly handsome specimen that she calls Tornado.

Wolves

Old Longfellow: This guy is the epitome of the meme about dads not wanting pets and then instantly falling in love with whatever animal enters their life. He probably found an injured wolf pup in his travels around the island and took pity on it, nursing it back to health in his cabin. It’s still got a bit of a twisted paw, but follows him around and listens like any other dog and answers to the name Lamoine.

Yao guai

Porter Gage: I bet this guy adopted an orphaned bear cub and raised it by hand. Now it’s so big that even if Gage thinks he’s an easy target for other raiders due to his age, he’s much less likely to get singled out than he thinks because he has a yao guai following him around like a puppy. The bear’s name is Fuzzy Wuzzy. It has no hair.

No pets, thanks

Charon: Too likely to accidentally wind up in the line of fire.

Sergeant RL-3: Too easily corrupted by Communist influences.

Arcade Gannon: Too much time spent getting in your way.

Codsworth: Too likely to make messes.

Paladin Danse: Too many wasted resources.

X6-88: Too much of a liability.

Ada: Too easy to lose when on the move.

Solomon Hardy: Too unsanitary.

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desert-dyke · 4 years ago

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Pollen

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Fallout New Vegas Relationships:

Craig Boone/Arcade Gannon

Craig Boone & Female Courier

Characters:

Arcade Gannon

Craig Boone

Female Courier

Additional Tags:

Sex Pollen

Anal Sex

Frotting

Blow Jobs

an assortment of fun sexual favors

Strangers to Lovers

bottom boone

Smut

lil fluff at the end

Arcade and Boone are sent to survey Vault 22 only to discover some plant life there has some interesting side effects...

Arcade’s eyes wandered across various equipment in the lab. Not as nice as what he had to work with while with the Followers, but a lot better than other factions could brag. Sloan was talking to one of the scientists. He sort of zoned out by now. She was far from the brightest crayon in the pack and sometimes it was better not to hear her “brilliant” takes. He could tell a deal was being made. An exchange of caps promised. Yeah that always caught Sloan’s attention. “How do you feel about going to Vault 22?” Sloan asked, giving him that smile that suggested she wasn’t really asking. Arcade blinked. He promised to follow her and give her support, but he did not like where this was going. He could have sworn he heard something about someone disappearing, and research needing to be reacquired. It was the former part that unsettled him. “It’s got plants! You like that sort of thing,” Sloan appealed.

“Why can’t you go?” Arcade asked. Sloan’s sunburnt shoulders rose and fell again.

“I’ve got other business here.”

Arcade rolled his eyes. He had noticed the way her eyes seemingly glazed over when Corporal Betsy was talking to her. It was so characteristic of Sloan to ditch him to flirt with whatever pretty lady they encountered. He remembered losing her for nearly two days in Westside, only to find her holed up in the Thorn. Apparently her and Red Lucy got pretty close during that time.

“I’m not going alone,” he asserted. He could protect himself just fine, but if already someone had disappeared, Arcade did not want to add himself to the body count.

“Take Boone with you,” Sloan suggested. He couldn’t believe his initial reaction then but he actually preferred Sloan to Boone. It wasn’t that he was unfriendly towards the rest of Sloan’s friends. She definitely had interesting tastes when it came to making friends. Cass was a bit rough and rowdy. Raul was a sarcastic pushover. Lily was sweet and doting on Sloan, but he was certain she could and would snap him in half. But Boone? He was just quiet. In all honesty, Arcade didn’t know what to think of Boone. Not knowing his deal made Arcade cautious of him.

“Why Boone?” He questioned. Sloan shrugged again, but she was a terrible bluff. He could tell by the twitching corners of her mouth. She had her reasons, but she wasn’t going to tell him them.

“I’m tired of him moping around the 38,” she made the excuse. “Take him out. Show him a good time.” Her arm wrapped around Arcade’s shoulder. She was much shorter and had to pull him down to her height in order to do so. Arcade didn’t fight against it. “There’s a nuka cola quantum in it for you…”

“I could buy myself my own,” Arcade said. He rolled his eyes and shrugged his way out of Sloan’s hold. It hurt to bend like that. “Fine.”

Getting Boone to talk was like pulling teeth. On one hand, there was some peace to that. Boone was just about the only one at the Lucky 38 who didn’t try to probe Arcade for some history. He had the inkling that Boone genuinely did not care, whereas every one else only further inspired them to pry.

The silence began to wear on him after an hour of walking in it. Boone’s sun-shaded eyes darted along the desert expanding before them, on the lookout for any sign of trouble. He accepted that silence in this case meant stealth and cover from any wasteland creature who might do them harm. Yet the sound of wind whistling across an empty desert kept making Arcade look over his shoulder, thinking he heard the sound of voices.

Boone raised a clenched fist, his arm forming a right angle. Arcade crawled to a stop, unholstering his pistol. Boone had his rifle trained on an enemy hidden from Arcade’s view. He tried to squint his eyes, shading them from the scorching sun, but all he saw were dancing waves of heat.

Arcade jumped as Boone’s rifle fired. A hand accidentally touched the sniper’s back and was quickly brushed off with a grunt.

“What was it?” Arcade asked. Silence. Was he annoyed at his touch? Arcade sucked a breath in, but before he could speak, his ears rung with the sound of the rifle discharging. Boone fired twice more before standing. Arcade remained crouched for a moment longer, trying to process what happened. Boone began walking, indifferent to whether Arcade was following or not. He hustled to catch up with Boone. Finally, he saw something in the distance, coming from between the mountains. It looked overwhelmingly green.

Something crunched beneath Arcade’s tread. He looked down with disgust at the oversized insect he stepped on, it’s insides now covering his shoes. This must have been what Boone had seen and taken out long before it would even know they were there. His finger searched for the trigger of his plasma pistol, resting just in case there were any more nearby.

“Area’s clear,” Boone said. Whether that was meant to be reassuring was lost on Arcade. He checked the crudely drawn map he had been given, aligned it with surrounding landmarks. A red x marked the spot, in a small alcove of the mountain range, confirming what Arcade already knew. The green was where they needed to go.

It was even more overwhelming the closer they got. Vegetation was sparse in the mojave and what did was hardy and prickly. Not soft with fanlike waxy leaves, something he’d expect to see in the jungle, not here in the desert.

“I’m no botanist, but that doesn’t seem entirely natural,” Arcade remarked. He looked towards Boone, still silent. He lead the way, rifle in his hands. The vegetation grew denser the further they wandered into the alcove. It’s source was covered in it, so that Arcade almost didn’t recognize the entrance to vault 22. He was afraid to brush against the plants, unsure of what effects they might have. He had an antivenom on him, which could possibly work if something was poisonous, but wasn’t definite. However, if it triggered an allergic reaction, they would be plum out of luck.

Boone sauntered ahead without the same caution. Arcade hissed in a breath watching the skin of his arm touch a plant, expecting blistering welts to rise moments later. When nothing happened and Boone continued on ahead without him, Arcade relaxed only slightly and followed him into the vault.

Despite the lack of soil, the plants had no problem growing on the metal of the vault floors, walls, ceiling, literally anywhere he looked there was growth. Arcade jumped at the sudden metallic boom. Boone was no longer in the entrance with him. He heard another gunshot and deciphered Boone must’ve headed further inside. Arcade hustled, following the sound. Gunshots meant trouble. His feet flew down the stairwell, chasing noise, any sign of life. He halted, almost rushing into a figure rising from a cluster of flora. It was human shaped, but definitely not human. Arcade discharged his pistol into the back of the creature. It shrieked and burned as it crumpled to the ground. Boone turned around, realizing the creature had gotten dangerously close to him before Arcade shot it down. Arcade expected some hint of gratitude but Boone showed none.

“We’re not alone,” He said, instead. As if that much were not already obvious. The stairwell split into two opposing sides. “I’ll take that way,” Boone said, before heading down the stairs before Arcade could oppose them splitting up.

He held tight to his pistol as he ventured the other route. Boone’s gunshots echoed the metal walls. He was relieved to see they rejoined on the same floor. Boone took the liberty of surveying one of the rooms. Arcade took to the opposite, which looked to be a lab. Promising, Arcade thought.

He took out another plant-person as it rose from another cluster of flora. He wondered, with some morbidity, if these creatures were indeed once human. Maybe even the scientists working in this vault.

A light shone on a large blossom, catching Arcade’s attention. He approached with caution, pistol pointed forward in case another creature spawned from it. The blossom opened, releasing a visible cloud of spores. Instinctively, Arcade gasped. It smelled, he was embarrassed to admit, like sex. He pressed the sleeve of his lab coat to his face, trying to avoid breathing any more of it in and promptly left the room in search of Boone.

“We need to leave,” He told the sniper, when he encountered him loitering in one of the labs. “There’s spores in the air, and who knows what harm they could be if we breath them.” He thought of the corpse they found that looked like a human body entirely encased in flora. No doubt they would soon share a similar fate. Boone did not seem particularly riveted by Arcade’s words. Arcade felt his blood warm. Frustration. He knew he wasn’t exactly the type to give orders, but he wished Boone would at least listen to him. “We need gas masks and then we can try again. I’m sure Sloan would understand,” Arcade added, considering maybe Boone was afraid of disappointing Sloan.

“There’s spores in here too,” Boone stated, pointing towards a similar looking blossom.

“Yeah, exactly why we need to get out of here,” Arcade reiterated. He never realized how dull Boone was. Abandoning all caution, he reached for Boone’s hand, giving it a tug. Surprisingly, the contact earned no response from the other man.

“Are you feeling feverish?” Boone asked. Arcade paused. He had been feeling a little warmer and

his heart was pounding in his chest. He assumed it was out of ire towards the sniper. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. It was warm. “You look flushed,” Boone commented.

“Yeah, well something really fucked up is going on in this vault, so excuse me for being a little worked up,” Arcade replied. His heart was really pounding, as if he had just ran a lap around Freeside. Sure he was upset at Boone, but even he acknowledged that it was a bit of an exaggerated response to the situation. Unless it was the pollen he inhaled causing him to have an accelerated heart rate.

“Worked up is right,” Boone commented. He scratched his buzzed head under his beret. Arcade noticed how low Boone was looking. He followed his line of vision, noticed a small tent had formed in his pants. He could add this to the list of awkward moments he had gotten a boner.

“I’m not going to let you die down here just because you want to be difficult,” Arcade redirected the conversation back to what was most urgent. He grabbed the collar of Boone’s shirt and pulled. Boone swatted his hand away, but it got him to start moving.

Arcade kept his plasma pistol close in case they encountered any more of those spore creatures on the way back out. Every cluster of flora that broke through the metal floor of the vault put Arcade a little bit more at unease. He jumped upon seeing a corpse of one Boone had sniped earlier, laying among all of the plants.

The further up they went, the warmer Arcade felt. He was coated in a fierce sweat, as if he were fighting a fever, his glasses fogged a bit from the heat radiating from his body. Arcade paused to catch his breath. Boone took note.

“Hey,” The concern in his voice was forreign to Arcade. “What’s up?” That was probably the closest Boone was going to come to saying ‘are you okay?’

“I’m not going to lie, I’m not feeling great,” Arcade confessed. He was having a difficult time placing what was wrong. He did not feel ill. Despite the high body temperature, he knew he didn’t have a fever. He just felt exceptionally wound up, like he had just did a warm up lap and was ready to do more.

“Something’s not right,” Boone said, in agreement. Arcade looked towards him. Boone was looking flushed as well. He didn’t mean to look, but it was hard to ignore the swell tugging against cargo pants.

Boone stepped closer, causing Arcade to take a step back. He couldn’t see behind Boone’s sniper shades, but he thought he was pissed, that he was going to hurt him. Instead, Boone clutched Arcade’s sleeve, pinching it tight inside his fist. “I need help, Doc.”

Arcade’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. He felt as rough as Boone looked, as if their bodies were going to give out from stress if relief didn’t come soon. “I don’t…” Arcade stuttered. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

“Bullshit,” Boone growled through clenched teeth.

Sweat loosened the pomade in Arcade’s hair, so that strands dangled in his face. He brushed them back, all the while leaning on a computer mainframe for support. He did have an idea of how to treat this condition. While it wasn’t an unpleasant idea, it also wasn’t something Arcade impulsively rushed into, like Sloan might. He had secrets to keep, secrets that didn’t belong with such intimate acts.

But he was also certain not doing so would kill them. Already the stress was taking a toll on Arcade’s body. He knew they wouldn’t make it far from the vault before one or both of them would suffer a stroke or cardiac arrest.

“Yes. Fine,” Arcade conceded. “Are you sure this is what you want?” Neither of them had any other choice, but Arcade needed consent before performing this sort of procedure.

Next thing Arcade knew, Boone’s hand was on the collar of his button down, pulling him down to his shorter height and mashing his lips against Arcade’s. His glasses clacked with Boone’s, knocking them askew on his face. Arcade removed his and rested it on the mainframe before returning his lips to Boone’s.

Boone’s breath was hot on his face. He kissed ravenously, like Boone had been wandering the Mojave for days and Arcade was the first drink of water. His hands grasped at Arcade with the same urgency, while constantly shifting place, as if Boone was still trying to figure out what felt right.

Arcade stifled the question in his mind of whether Boone had ever been with a man before. He was confident Boone hadn’t engaged in sexual activities since the loss of his wife. Being close to someone now must have been weird to him, regardless of anatomy.

He decided to offer Boone some assistance, and pulled his lab coat off before beginning to unbutton his shirt. It clung to his body, damp with sweat. Boone eyed him for a moment before doing the same with his t-shirt.

His stocky torso shined with sweat. His skin was battered with scars all at different stages of healing, but his shape was soft and inviting. Round pectoral muscles and a slight pudge of stomach cushioning ropes of muscles beneath. Arcade would be lying if he said he never found Boone attractive previously, he just didn’t think Boone would be interested. Even now, Boone hesitated. He realized Boone was waiting for his direction.

Arcade took his hands in his own and guided them towards his chest. Boone traced along his torso before eagerly coming in for another kiss. Their chests pressed together, he could feel the heat radiating off of Boone. Arcade was painfully erect and the slightest brush of cloth against his groin made him ache.

He reached between their bodies to free himself from his pants. Boone mirrored him before turning around and leaning against the mainframe. Arcade was taken aback, watching as Boone waited for him. Two pale mounds that were his now exposed ass facing in his direction. Now it was Arcade’s turn to be cautious.

Boone looked over his shoulder towards Arcade. “Please.” His voice was low, so that he almost missed it.

Arcade held his hips between his hands. He lined himself up and then pressed in. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped from him. Boone bit down on his own hand. At first he was worried it was bad for him, then he realized Boone was trying to stifle his own noise.

“Harder.”

Arcade obliged. Each thrust came easier than the one before and scratched at his itch. Finally the tension building inside of him felt right instead of something that wanted to kill him. Shamefully, Arcade did not last long, nor did Boone, as the latter climaxed shortly after him. Much to Arcade’s surprise, he was still hard as he pulled out.

“That’s...new,” He remarked. Boone turned around, his erection mirroring his own.

Before Arcade could question if these effects were going to be permanent, Boone was on him again. His bare cock brushed against Arcade’s. Even the slightest touch made small fires light inside of him. He watched as Boone lined them up. Boone’s hands were rough with callouses, but warm as he surrounded them both. Arcade placed his slender fingers over Boone’s, squeezing their hold tighter as together they pumped. Boone leaned his head on Arcade’s shoulder. He could hear every raspy breath that shook through Boone, mixed in with a small, whispered ‘fuck.’ Arcade gasped as Boone bit his neck. It must have done something for him, because next thing he knew, he was releasing again, this time onto Boone’s stomach. Boone’s hot fluid dripped onto his fingers.

Arcade was out of breath. Carefully, he lowered himself onto a patch of the vault’s floor that didn’t look as dirty as the rest. His chest heaves, deprived of air. His heart still thunders, but not with the same urgency as before. His member, though still firm, was beginning to wilt ever so slightly.

Boone knelt beside him. Arcade now noticed that his beret had fallen off at some point, leaving his buzzed haircut exposed. It sparkled with flecks of sweat that dripped onto his temples.

“I think...it’s working,” Arcade commented. He leaned his head against the mainframe, feeling like he was going to collapse from exhaustion.

“We’re not done yet,” Boone said. He crawled closer before he laid on his belly before Arcade, his head in the researcher’s lap. Arcade gasped as he felt Boone’s hot breath against his cock, moments before he took Arcade inside of his mouth.

At first, Arcade watched as Boone’s head bobbed, afraid to touch him, which was probably silly considering everything that had happened between them recently. He gave in and gently raked his fingers through the bristles of Boone’s cropped hair. Boone’s moan vibrated against his cock, causing Arcade’s breath to catch. This part lasted longer. Or maybe Arcade’s head was clear enough that he could finally concentrate on what was happening, rather than all his previous actions passing by in blurred emotions. Before was so desperate, like relieving pain. This...this was kind of...nice, he had to admit.

When Arcade inevitably released, he half expected Boone to pull away in disgust. Instead, he accepted the load without complaint. Arcade reached for his canteen and downed half of it, attempting to replenish all the water his body had sweated out. He wiped excess moisture from his lips as he offered the canteen to Boone. Boone accepted.

“What about you?” Arcade asked. His eyes drifted to the semi-erection that bounced between Boone’s legs as he shifted. Boone finished off the canteen before answering.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

He sealed the empty canteen and handed it back to Arcade, before shirking his cargo pants back up his thighs. “Yeah.”

Arcade watched him straighten out his clothes, pushing his shades back up his nose and readjusting his beret atop his head. He didn’t seem to be changing his mind anytime soon.

“We should leave,” he said. Arcade had to agree, before they encountered more spores. He wasn’t sure how many times his body could go through something like that before it finally quit.

His vision cleared once his glasses returned to rest before his eyes. Arcade covered himself again while Boone stood watch, holding his rifle. If they had been attacked while lost in their frenzy of desire, they would have been goners. Arcade could count himself lucky that hadn’t been a problem.

“Hey,” Arcade sought his attention, touching his arm lightly. He half expected Boone to flinch away from his touch, but he didn’t. His shaded eyes turned towards Arcade. Arcade brushed his lips against Boone’s. They tasted salty of sweat and his own cum. Boone’s lips moved gently in response, feeling for the briefest of moments the wetness of a tongue before it ended as abruptly as it began.

“We can’t tell Sloan,” Boone said, after an elongated moment of silence.

“Absolutely not,” Arcade said, in agreement, before the two headed back towards the surface.

#my fics #fallout #fallout new vegas #arcade gannon #craig boone #arcade/boone #boonecade

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desertbroad · 6 years ago

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kaj + (inverted) tropes: part two! * * i don’t know all the actual Official TM names for these tropes, so most are made up. also, you might notice the regular trope list (part 1 of this headcanon) is significantly longer. this is because kaj has a few main inverted tropes but tons more regular ones, since tropes are like atoms: they make up everything. i just wanted to focus on the few inversions that created her character and let the rest come naturally! under a read more for length. ** also as of 7/6/19 part one isn’t done yet. yes i know please don’t shame me ok IM GETTING TO IT

fridged woman (aka back from the dead)—

for this one i took inspiration from laura moon from american gods, with a few tweaks (love neil gaiman, but some of the things about her character are...a bit squicky). unlike a good number of women in media, kaj isn’t shoved over gently and pronounced dead so that a man can grow from her pain. in fact, she’s shot in the head twice, pronounced dead, & buried. while her “death” means more pain and character development for the characters surrounding her, it means pain and character development for her, too. truth be told, she survives a hell of a lot more than any average person should, especially one with her low luck stat. half of this is the fun and wacky way new vegas’ world works (obviously, no real person could survive all this), but also because of her good ol’ courier determination. things that should’ve fridged kaj but haven’t include: two shots to the head, numerous combat scrapes, being stabbed, having her brain/heart/spine removed, having a bomb collar attached to her neck, killing an entire fortification of trained legionnaires, stepping on landmines, etc etc. the courier is pretty much the bruce willis of fallout.

world ending vengeance—

specifically applies to certain characters. while most others who piss kaj off get the full brunt of her wrath (see: caesar, mr. house, elijah, general oliver, ulysses), benny, along with dr. mobius & the think tank & mcnamara*, get a pass. in fact, she lets him go not once or twice, but on three separate occasions, even knowing he’s likely to betray her again. the reason why? not even kaj knows. some people speculate it’s because she likes him / slept with him (incorrect; she liked house to a degree, and slept with caesar); others speculate it’s because they’re so similar (also incorrect; she shared an alarming number of similarities with ulysses & elijah). the theory that comes closest to the truth is that she pities him. it fits in line her past behavior with mobius & the think tank, who were physically unable to see the effects of their actions and thus were spared a horrible fate. likewise, kaj seems to have judged benny to be innocent in her own personal court, and though he continues to be a thorn in her side again and again, she refuses to “sentence” him for anything. it helps his cause that his plan helped her take over vegas, and he created yes man, one of the only living beings she’s ever fully trusted. also a slight inversion of kaj’s maneater / black widow trope; the one person she truly should seduce and kill, she doesn’t.

that said, benny doesn’t get away from their encounters without any punishment—after narrowly escaping being crucified, both kaj and benny have matching rope burns around their wrists. it’s her morbid idea of a joke.

*mcnamara doesn’t fit within this trope, but kaj spares the bos for veronica & christine’s sake, despite yes man’s warnings. also for the off chance that they might convert to being her allies (they don’t, and this choice helps lend itself to more BOS trouble all over the wasteland).

white man cowboy—

kind of a simple inversion that’s been done before, but an important one and one that i like a lot. for starters, the “john wayne” cowboy is a bastardization of a history that was made up of ethnic minorities and whitewashed for hollywood aesthetic (also fuck you john wayne). while none of my research has come up with anything about women of color or nonbinary people in the western scene, only moc (whether this is intentional or not, i’m not sure), i still wanted to write kaj as non-male. frankly, this is because i wanted her to be an inversion of tired tropes, and that included being a debonair, byronic woman / non gender conforming hero (think gentleman jack) instead of a debonair, byronic white dude. we’ve got 20 of those for every fleshed out woman/enby on screen, lbr. kaj is also a femme fatale, but only by coincidence; she’s more of a wandering heart breaker than a necessarily dangerous woman, much like many of the heroes on screen.

i also find that non-men of color are one of the most underrepresented minorities in fiction—even media that celebrates diversity simplifies them down (hamilton), or centers their narrative and entire purpose around a man (hamilton, again). nevermind nonbinary people / trans folk. for that reason, i wanted kaj’s story to be about a woman of color / someone who doesn’t conform to expectations and doesn’t allow herself to be put in the sidelines for a white person or a male to lead her life. and regardless of whether a woman filling this swaggering, womanizing cowboy role is accurate to history or not, fallout’s setting lends itself an air of exaggeration, so i felt it was appropriate to include her here, instead of arguing with people over whether someone like her existed in actual history (my suspicions say yes, and that these people have simply been erased from the narrative for the convenience of certain people’s feelings, but still).

smarter than you look / deadly doctor (this one actually has a tvtropes page! look it up!)—

from the deadly doctor page : ‘ surely the ultimate example of the morally ambiguous doctorate. one reason for this is due to all his/her training : while having advanced knowledge on the human body can be used to save people, it also gives all the knowledge on how to injure and kill people with minimal effort by knowing all the body's weak points. some more sympathetic examples equate to the medical version of a well-intentioned extremist, who may certainly have good (or at least sympathetic/understandable) intentions but ruthless medical ethics. ’

one of the most important things kaj took from her thorough education is medical training—unable to depend on anyone after being traumatized, trusting any doctor who happened along to treat her illnesses was out of the question. she was also smart enough to know the original kaj wouldn’t be around to heal her up forever. thus, she began her training as a self preservation instinct; but over time, as she grew and relearned how to be compassionate and empathetic, she decided to use healing for good, too. trained as a young girl by the original kaj, and then later trained officially as a combat medic by the ncr, kaj has spent a countless amount of hours inside army tents, healing wounds and assisting doctors with tough cases. she even keeps a medical bag on her person for exactly that sort of situation (especially since supplies in the mojave aren’t exactly easy to dig up). though she’s a big scientist in general (the big mt saw to that), medicine is her specialty. she’s even stitched up her own wounds, though it’s not something she particularly enjoys (it takes a lot of whiskey and something for her to bite down on).

for reference, consider this scene of anton from no country for old men (TW: he’s performing self surgery, so it’s pretty gruesome). though both anton and kaj’s lifestyles are rough and even sadistic at times, they both still have medical training—if not to protect others, then to at least protect themselves. and like anton, it shows kaj’s inability to trust anyone with her most important commodity: herself. this makes her surgery in the big empty doubly as horrifying, given she took specific pains for something like this to not happen. it’s why she refuses to leave without all of her organs (also, stubbornness). all of this is just one of the ways kaj is way more ... well, everything than she looks. which leads into...

underestimate me if you dare, aka femme fatale (sort of?)—

though fallout prides itself on being a soft reset on the world, people’s perceptions of minorities are still ... iffy, due to real world influences by the creators. thus, the people around kaj often jump to assumptions about her based on her identity—mostly, that she’s weak. once, it offended her, but now it’s a perception that she encourages. after all, she’s not flat out strong like your usual hero, but is more of a hamlet-type; smart, perceptive, fast, and willing to strike from the shadows. it’s hard to do any of that if you’re putting on a big performance about your power (though admittedly, she’s been known to go big or go home if she’s planning on killing everyone; if she’s not faking nice and telling you what you wanna hear, trouble’s ahead).

of course, the reality is that kaj is a powerhouse. but these perceptions about her supposed weakness are why posing as a legion member is so easy—those who think she’s weak underestimate her or keep their distance, which gives her leave to do what she wants. she’s viewed more like a pet than a person by most, and though it frustrates her at times to pretend, it also gives her leave to do more, than if she were to simply pose as a man.

all that said, kaj doesn’t exactly qualify as a femme fatale. most of her lovers are just information givers, and they escape from their interaction unharmed. kaj killing her bed mates is actually less likely than her just sparing them and letting them go, none the wiser. of course, you kill one tyrant (maybe two or three) and suddenly you’re a black widow—

#headcanon.#long post //#sb: if you love benny so much why dont you make a blog for him #me: THAT OPENS THE DOOR................#if i make one for benny i will make one for every one of my fnv faves and it will just be a MESS !!!#anyway hi heres the basis of kaj's character in a neat post !#i think i got everything

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agameofsouls · 6 years ago

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backstory // jackson + lyra

so, jackson and lyra are ocs that i created for a group rp that i used to run a year or so back. the history and lore was really really deep, and i actually spent months writing it and tying little pieces together to make a blend of rural folk village / supernatural monsters / scifi horror whatever that made me really happy to think about and plan out.

i actually had an entire notebook filled with different arcs and conflicts i wanted the group to work through, including a huntress, a dragon, blood spells, etc. unfortunately, we only got about half way through the huntress before things died out due to busy personal lives, and what have you.

this is just a small directory and explanation to certain parts of that world that are integral to the development of jackson and lyra as characters, and things that they have experienced from their old home, as well as links to posts from the group page with even more stories and information.

mostly, this is for my benefit so i can sort of feel better referencing their backstories knowing that this exists for anyone to read that’s interested.

also, i just really want my old favorite stories to see the light of day again. nightmare was honestly so important to me as a writer, lmao.

NOTE. this is a long post!

the town itself

Nightmare has been around for two hundred and forty horrific years. It was originally created by the legendary group called The Eleven, which consisted of: Five witches, two vampires, three werewolves, one necromancer, and several children belonging to most of the members.

The story is that left their homes in Salem, followed by groups of hunters, and traveled all the way down to Tennessee before disappearing into the Smoky Mountains, losing their would-be killers forever. It took them a while and a lot of settling down and uprooting before finally deciding on a permanent home, but they did it, and here we are: hidden, secret, and safe. ( more here )

essentially, the town is self sufficient, isolated in deep within the smoky mountains. there are several sister towns spread across the us, typically either in more wooded areas, or deep within the rarely traveled plains of the midwest, or the deserts of the mojave.

they are connected by ‘trails’ that are only traveled by those in the know, and nomads travel from town to town with goods to trade on a regular basis, and often bring newcomers with them that they found along the way.

the government system is fairly simplistic as well -- each species that resides in nightmare has one representative, whether because they were elected or are the only one of their kind, that sits on a council.

the power is usually passed through the family of the current council member, and doesn’t often switch hands unless something drastic happens. in the case that there are no familial relations of the current council member available, they will select another member of their species as their ‘heir.’

lyra + jackson

in this world, lyra lived a very carefree life. she was a bit of a criminal, and would often get into trouble on purpose just to have the sheriff of the town, tris, arrest her. she developed a crush on him, and they eventually started seeing each other, much to the dismay of lyra’s mother. she hated that tris was older than lyra, as well as a shape shifter. she thought he was dangerous, but lyra wouldn’t hear a bad word against him.

she also had a best friend, a witch named antonia, who she would drag into all sorts of trouble with her. the two were inseparable, except for when the law man came around. lyra never let toni go down with her, and always took the heat. freya always forgave lyra for any wrongdoing she did, and was the kind of mom that instead got upset with the guards rather than her own daughter for her ever growing criminal record.

on the other hand, jackson lived quietly. even in a place like nightmare, necromancers were still feared. their power was different than that of any of the witches, and it was mysterious. it made other people uneasy, and they didn’t have a lot of trust for young or new necromancers like him.

so he typically stayed home, tending to his plants and decorating his house to look like an hgtv model home. he also sold his fruits and veggies in the town center at his little produce stall, and made some extra cash that way. it was a far cry from his previous life, but he liked it.

he made friends slowly, and eventually befriended lyra. the two, along with toni, became close friends and would often spend time in jackson’s home having tea and snacks during the day, and going to parties at night. toni, while she spent her time with jackson and lyra often, still had a slight distrust of jackson, and would often make excuses to not join them on ventures. this left a lot of time for him and lyra to be alone and bond, and he quickly became her second most trusted friend in town.

when shit hit the fan and it was time to leave, they went together, trying to make sense of all the shit they had been through. after everything, they are inseparable, and would probably die for each other. there are very few friends as close as them, and they depend on each other to survive in the outside world.

the problem

For some reason or another, though, our population has started falling, and not because our citizens are leaving, either. Something’s been coming around when we don’t know it and making people drop dead left and right, whether it’s from a sickness or people being outright murdered, we don’t know.

The recent deaths are causing some tensions between groups and have cause productivity to dwindle as well. Some parents won’t send their kids down to the school and community events have begun to see a decrease in attendance as well. The Council is working on finding the source of the problem and a solution, but with even the Elders finding it difficult to work together, some people are afraid that this is the end of Nightmare.

so, basically, there was a sickness spreading, but it was only affecting certain groups, such as the witches and sirens, specifically. it had slowly started to spread to other species as well, enough that a true ‘pattern’ hadn’t been picked up just yet. no one could figure out how it spread, and no one could figure out a cure or a source for it.

there was no magic that could stop it, no potion that could slow it. it seemed to suddenly hit a person, and within a matter of hours to days, they were dead.

what the townspeople didn’t know was that the sickness was entirely created in a lab. freya, the alpha of the werewolf pack and current holder of the werewolf council seat, had been contacted by a mysterious organization from the outside world regarding a research project into special beings.

the organization wanted to study the dna of supernatural beings, to see what made it different from humans, and if it was possible to cure, or if it was possible to weaponize and turn regular humans into these creatures.

they wanted to see if they could modify regular human dna to pass it on like any regular trait and have it manifest in their children, thus manufacturing witches, werewolves, or even hybrids of any of these species. it was a long shot by far, but they were willing to pay for any help.

for a while, she helped the organization by gathering dna samples and sending it off to a drop point. it was harmless. they compensated her well, and she was able to provide the town with wealth and new things that they never had before. but then, operations at the organization switched hands to someone with a little more darker intentions.

this new head had led the scientists in the direction of extermination -- treat the genetic markers like a virus, create a serum that destroys it, kill the monsters, ensure the survival of pure humans. now, this worried freya, and she pulled out almost immediately, until the head made a deal with her -- provide the dna of the creatures you don’t like and we’ll stick with them. your kind will be safe.

she quickly bought into this, and brought her brother in on the situation, and continued to provide dna from witches, shape shifters, and sirens alike, always avoiding her kind. the organization gave her a satellite phone, as described in this post, and she began to poison the town slowly through the well systems.

the huntress

in the midst of all the chaos and fear caused by the sickness in town, something perhaps worse came to nightmare via an old legend called the huntress, fully explained here.

Legend tells of an ancient hunter made immortal and unstoppable by a group of religious witches to destroy the races of monsters. Their chosen Huntress was taken from her life of poverty and misery and used in a forbidden ritual dedicated to the dark gods. During this ritual, half of her soul was ripped from her body and placed in a token of the Huntress, for safe keeping. The gods replaced the missing piece of her mortal soul with pieces of their own, effectively making her one of them, therefore making it impossible for her to die by normal means.

the story ends with the huntress being trapped in a chest, passed down by the bloodlines of the original witches that created and later imprisoned her. a ritual was to be performed during a full moon every century, but that instruction eventually fell to myth and then became hardly a memory, and the whereabouts of the chest were eventually forgotten.

it turns out, like a lot of things do in this town, that the chest ended up in the attic of the council building, just waiting for a little something like the hunter’s moon to come out and let the huntress out to play.

That moment finally came as the moon reached the highest point in the night sky, casting moonbeams through the trees and onto the buildings in town. One in particular hit the attic window of the Council Hall, illuminating the small, dusty area. It rested on the wooden panels of a particularly dusty and battered looking chest that hadn’t been touched since the Founders chucked it into the attic – which was the last time the chest had been touched.

Just minutes after the light of the moon touched the chest, it began to rumble, softly at first, and then violently. The rumbling then spread to the attic itself and then to the building, making ceiling tiles fall and the wood flooring and walls crack. A dark smoke, moving almost like liquid, began to seep from the seams of the chest and surround it, hissing whenever it came into contact with the wood. Finally, the rumbling stopped, the smoke disappeared, and all was silent.

BANG

It sounded as if several canons had gone off in unison, temporarily deafening anyone in the vicinity of the Council Hall. As the sound went off, a burst of magic exploded from the chest, sending wood pieces flying through the attic and either becoming lodged in the walls or blowing holes right through them like a shotgun blast. The burst of magic flew through the entire town, knocking every living being off of their feet and also knocked the wind right from their lungs. Several light bulbs blew out with the blast and windows shattered, and some people even dropped dead, causing more terror and panic than the initial magic had caused itself.

the rest of the huntress returning to this world can be read here!

after her return, one of the ghosts alerted the town to an ongoing crisis by ringing the bells and causing an even bigger alarm than her arrival did. that can be read here, and so can the official death count from the morning after.

this arc was never finished. i like to think that the town eventually solved it, that they were able to find her token and destroy it. i imagine that it was crushed by either tris or toni. but it was in a climactic moment. fire raging around them, the huntress standing with an arrow ready. the hero drops the token, and crushes it beneath their boot.

with a scream, the huntress let a final arrow fly, killing the hero, just as the trapped piece of her mortal soul came flooding back into her, and forcing the immortal bits out with another flash bang of magic. it forces the huntress onto her knees, and another of the heroes, either lyra or jackson, was able to take the sword and kill the huntress with it.

in the end, a majority of the town was killed, and it was evident to most people that the population would never recover from what had happened between the huntress and the sickness. a few dozen people decided to stay and rebuild, having faith that things could ever go back to normal.

others left, whether to rejoin regular society, or to join the other sister towns for a while, it wasn’t specified. but this event essentially blew nightmare off of the supernatural haven map for a while.

it was from this that jackson and lyra decided to leave. they had witnessed so many friends and family members die, and they both wanted out of that life. lyra left behind her mother and her future as alpha of the pack. jackson left his home behind, and off they went.

#( character study ) lyra #( character study ) jackson #( headcanon ) lyra #( headcanon ) jackson

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livinginlandmarketing · 4 years ago

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My sojourn in the desert and the resulting columns were a nice change of pace for me, and with any luck for you as well. In the meantime, lots of comments piled up on past columns. Let’s start with Riverside’s Mount Rubidoux, a topic you seem to love. Every mention of it here draws mail.

Even a reader in the San Gabriel Valley saw my March 21 column on the history of cars on the mountain and chimed in. Tony Ostos and his wife had just happened to drive to Mount Rubidoux the day before.

Says Ostos: “I hadn’t been there since I was an undergrad at UCR in the late 1970s, so I didn’t know that the road was closed. Thanks for explaining why in your column.” I aim to serve.

Briefly, the roads up and down the mountain were closed to vehicles for repairs in 1992. By the time the roads were fixed, the paths had become so popular with walkers, runners and cyclists that cars were banned. Power to the people!

Mount Rubidoux for nearly three decades has been limited to pedestrians, runners and cyclists, but some remember driving up in the 1980s or before. (Photo by David Allen, Inland Valley Daily Bulletin/SCNG)

Ostos says that in his student days, he used to drive up, park his Ford Courier and watch airplanes come and go from Flabob Airport, “a nice escape from the rigors of the quarter system at UCR.”

Don Williams likewise used to drive up regularly after his move to Riverside in 1978 and misses being able to do so.

“I felt no fear driving our long 1977 Ford Van up and down the roadway,” says Williams, “although my father-in-law may have been a little uncomfortable riding in the front passenger seat with an expansive view down the side of the mountain.”

Just picturing that gives me vertigo, so let’s move on, carefully.

Riverside native K. Porter took note of the Rubidoux researcher’s comment in my column that in more than eight decades of traffic, only one car is known to have careened off the mountain.

“You haven’t lived till you came down the mountain in a red wagon and come face to face with a car,” Porter says. “There may have been only one car accident up there but there were a few wagon-over-the-side crashes. Later it was skateboards and bikes and no cars. That’s when it became too dangerous for me �� too many pediatricians.”

I think reader Porter meant “too many pedestrians” — although if children’s doctors are crowding the mountain, I might have a fascinating follow-up.

Sole man

My March 7 column on the retirement of the owner of Everett Shoe Shop caused a minor stir around Claremont since Ernie, who’d rather his last name weren’t in print, had declined all media requests for nearly four decades.

“Wow! The ungettable interview. I tried for years,” admits Kathryn Dunn, former editor of the local weekly, the Courier.

Dunn may be the Courier reporter who, after a final rebuff, is said to have told Ernie with fondness: “You are the most misunderstood man in Claremont.”

Perhaps, like John Shaft, no one understands him but his woman. In this case, his assistant and girlfriend, Pam, who ran interference for Ernie with customers. But he may be a little less misunderstood after my column.

Oh, the stories and comments from readers! Many referred to him as the Shoe Nazi, after the Soup Nazi character on “Seinfeld.” Indeed, in informing some customers bluntly that their shoes were not worth repairing, Ernie was essentially saying, “No repairs for you.”

“Ernie told me I needed to start buying better quality shoes,” Jeanine Finn says. “He was correct.”

His shop, his rules. Tom Steed was there one day to witness “a very elegant lady” placing her shoes on the counter and stating that she wanted them back by the end of the week. Not the right approach.

“Ernie unloaded on her, stating that he was a professional and he would determine when they would be done,” Steed relates. “By the time Ernie finished speaking she had literally backed out to the sidewalk. Priceless!”

To spare himself, Paul Gomez would wait on the sidewalk and let his wife drop off or pick up his shoes. When that failed, he entered with trepidation and was greeted with such affectionate salutations as “How are you doing, clown?”

But Gomez says, “My favorite shoes were resuscitated by Ernie. Don’t tell him, but I’m going to miss his ‘smiling face.’”

Judy Harvey Sahak, who calls Ernie “one of Claremont’s true originals,” had the proper humility to be a good customer. “Unlike some of my friends,” she says, “Ernie’s agreeing to accept my worn shoes always made me feel privileged; he was so expert at his work even though he was short on social graces.”

How so? “Once when I slightly tore the check I was about to give him,” she says, “he refused it. He told me to rewrite it and ‘be careful this time.’”

A lot of customers dropped by to say farewell to Ernie as word spread about his retirement. Some gave him cards. One gave him beer.

“They say they’ll miss the rays of sunshine I spread around,” Ernie told me, chuckling.

Raven’s Bookshop is a haven for written word in Twentynine Palms

Beverly Cleary got first taste of California in Ontario at Chaffey

First vaccine a shot in the arm for our prospects

Desert Oracle journal peers into the Mojave’s myths

Joshua Tree: a rocky, alien, carefree, bear-free national park

Everett’s is now in the hands of Victor Ojeda, the young man who is its fifth owner in 95 years. One might say the new cobbler has big shoes to fill.

He comes across as pleasant and well-adjusted. But who’s to say there’s not some stale attitude still floating around?

brIEfly

People were driving into the Joshua tree “forest” before its designation as a national monument and, much later, a national park. But you had to have a spirit of adventure, and presumably at least one spare tire. A virtual lecture on how century-old driving culture created the park takes place at 7 p.m. Friday. It’s priced at $5 and co-sponsored by the national park’s Desert Institute and the Twentynine Palms Historical Society. Register at crowdcast.io/e/impacts-of-early.

David Allen writes Wednesday, Friday and Sunday, dryly. Email [email protected], phone 909-483-9339, visit insidesocal.com/davidallen, like davidallencolumnist on Facebook and follow @davidallen909 on Twitter.

-on April 06, 2021 at 08:55AM by David Allen

#riversidenews

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illegiblewords · 7 years ago

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FaceOff Prompts

I’m a really big fan of the Syfy show FaceOff u guiz, and I’ve basically watched through all the episodes at this point. I really love the way they challenge contestants to think outside the box with designs and executions, but I’ve noticed that after twelve seasons there are certain premises they’ve repeated a lot and certain premises they haven’t touched at all even as basic concepts.

So, based on the number of contestants they generally have per season and the number of prompts they have per season, I’m going to put up a few things here for shits and giggles. I’m doing two seasons just to show not out of ideas and all, there’s a lot that can still be done.

If anyone feels like doing this as art prompts or otherwise that would be cool as hell, I’m just dinking here thinking about what might be a good time haha.

Season X

17 Contestants (14 episodes)

Episode 1: Alchemy

(17 Contestants, double elimination)

Prompt: Design an alchemist who is turning into one of the elements. Contestants choose their elements based purely on the alchemical symbol, and are then given photos of their element, symbolic connotations, and scientific properties.

Episode 2: Mixed Medium

(15 Contestants)

Prompt: Using only body paint, make real models fit into 2-D scenes featuring heavily stylized backdrops.

Episode 3: Funny Animals

(14 Contestants)

Prompt: Create a heavily stylized animal person in the spirit of Mickey and Minnie Mouse, Donald, or Goofy.

Episode 4: Ms. Monstrous

(13 Contestants)

Prompt: Contestants are challenged to make a female horror makeup inspired by the Alien queen, Mama, and Regan MacNeil. No beauty makeups allowed here, the monster must be female and must be grotesque.

Episode 5: Deep Sea

(12 Contestants)

Prompt: With creatures like the angler fish, ghost sharks, vampire squids, and gulper eels, it’s no wonder people scare each other discussing cryptids like the bloop or ningen mermaid. Contestants must each choose a deep sea animal as inspiration for designing a mysterious beast of their own.

Episode 6: Hauntings

(11 Contestants)

Prompt: Inspired by The Possession, Ringu, and The Orphanage, contestants are challenged to craft their own ghost or malevolent spirit.

Episode 7: Alien Conspiracies

(10 Contestants)

Prompt: Taking inspiration from real life conspiracy theories, contestants must show their interpretations of reptilian, grey, mantis, pleiadean, and flatwoods aliens.

Episode 8: Incubi

(9 Contestants)

Prompt: A beauty makeup challenge, many people are familiar with the nightmarish side of demons and the alluring succubi who dot their ranks. However, less commonly represented are incubi, male demons who tempt women and men with their sensuality. This challenge is to design a male demon who does look extremely attractive, but has a dark and disturbing element to their design simultaneously.

Episode 9: Retrofuturistic Citizen

(8 Contestants)

Prompt: Some of the best science fiction films were made during previous eras, and it shows in how they conceptualized science fiction at the time. Contestants must each choose a decade from between the 1900′s and the 1980′s then use that period to inform designs for a futuristic character of their own. The catch is that since the world these characters belong to are futuristic, all characters must include evidence of their world’s technology incorporated into the design.

Episode 10: Retrofuturistic Abomination

(7 Contestants, Double Elimination)

Prompt: Continuing off the previous prompt with the threat of a double elimination, this time contestants must make some kind of monster to oppose their citizens. These abominations show their world’s technology and retrofuturistic aesthetic twisted into something menacing.

Episode 11: Surrealism

(5 Contestants)

Prompt: Contestants are challenged to take inspiration from creators like Salvador Dali, Rene Magritte, Max Ernst, Yves Tanguy, Vladimir Kush, and Rob Gonsalves to create dreamlike beings of their own.

Episode 12: The Four Horsemen

(4 Contestants)

Prompt: In the bible’s book of revelation there are said to be four horsemen of the apocalypse. Extensive subjects of debate and interpretation, pop culture commonly interprets these horsemen as Pestilence, War, Famine, and Death. The contestants must each choose and design their own horseman of the apocalypse.

Episode 13: Royal Treatment Part 1

(Finalists, 3 Contestants)

Prompt: The finalists are each challenged to create their own opulent king and queen as well as a servant who is in love with the queen. One, and only one, of the characters must be evil and contestants cannot overlap in which character they make evil. Together they will perform a choreographed dance at a ball as part of the finale. Each contestant will also have to choose a theme for their monarchs: fantasy, science fiction, or horror.

Episode 14: Royal Treatment Part 2

(Finalists, 3 Contestants)

SEASON Y

16 Contestants (14 episodes)

Episode 1: Camouflage

(16 Contestants)

Prompt: Using organisms that have evolved to blend in with their environment, contestants must design humans whose bodies similarly adapted to blend into different surroundings.

Episode 2: Life Size

(15 Contestants)

Prompt: Contestants must make a whimsical living toy companions for children.

Episode 3: Inside Out

(14 Contestants)

Prompt: Each contestant is assigned an internal element of the human body (e.g. veins, muscle, bones, tissue, etc.) and must use that element as inspiration for the exterior of a horrifying demon.

Episode 4: Fair is Foul

(13 Contestants)

Prompt: Contestants select creatures from humans, elves, and fairies then, without erasing conventional features or values, must design a villain of that race who would be considered horrifying and depraved.

Episode 5: Foul is Fair

(12 Contestants, Double Elimination)

Prompt: Contestants select creatures from orcs, goblins, and ghouls then, without erasing conventional features or values, must design a hero of that race who could be considered appealing and admirable.

Episode 6: Pimp My AI

(10 Contestants)

Prompt: Taking inspiration from luxury and modified cars, contestants have to design their own stylish robots.

Episode 7: Shiver Me Timbers

(9 Contestants)

Prompt: Taking inspiration from Peter Pan, Captain Hook, and Never Never Land, contestants must design their own pirate to man the Jolly Roger.

Episode 8: Left Behind

(8 Contestants)

Prompt: Contestants create horror villains who might linger in abandoned hospitals, warehouses, amusement parks, schools, asylums, subways, government bunkers, and farms.

Episode 9: Desert Dwellers

(7 Contestants)

Prompt: Each contestant chooses a desert from one of the seven continents. These are the Sahara Desert, the Gobi Desert, the Mojave Desert, the Atacama Desert, the Tabernas Desert, the Great Victoria Desert, and the Antarctic Desert. Artists design cryptids that might emerge from each location.

Episode 10: Crops and Livestock

(6 Contestants)

Prompt: Contestants are presented with common farm animals including pigs, horses, cattle, chickens, goats, sheep as well as plants including wheat, corn, potatoes, carrots, pumpkins, and lettuce, with the challenge of creating hybrids that might appear on a science-fiction farm.

Episode 11: City Slickers

(5 Contestants)

Prompt: Contestants design characters to portray spirits of various cities based on their histories, architectures, and styles.

Episode 12: Angels

(4 Contestants)

Prompt: Contestants must take inspiration from some of the more inhuman, original descriptions of angels to make creatures both monstrous and benevolent.

Episode 13: Horror History Part 1

(Finalists, 3 Contestants)

Prompt: Contestants each have to design three characters for short scenes inspired by the iconic horror stories Mask of the Read Death (Prospero, the Red Death, and a plague-ridden guest turned narrator), A Shadow Over Innsmouth (Innsmouth citizen, Deep One, and a partially transformed narrator), and The Yellow Wallpaper (John, the woman in the wallpaper, the narrator driven mad as she appears at the end).

Episode 14: Horror History Part 2

(Finalists, 3 Contestants)

#syfy #faceoff #art challenge

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thelastswallow · 8 years ago

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What Tears Us Apart, Ties Us Together

Chapter 9

John - Legwork

In which there is home made spaghetti - Alan Tracy learns the origin of a nickname - Lieutenant Cooper Waverly pines after an imaginary woman - Virgil Tracy has an assignation with a real one - a young man crosses the border into Turkey and it is a long way to Illinois

There’s something about deserts that has always appealed to John.

Something about the horizon. The towers of empty space and the flat, lunar surface. It makes him feel calm and clean.

Like a moth to a bug zapper, Grandma used to say, as she attacked him with the tube of sunscreen when he was a kid, or painted the tip of his nose with aloe Vera when he came home pink and peeling. He’s not built for the desert. Only Gordon’s sallow skinned and quick to tan, buy of the five of them John burns the quickest, roasts the colour of poached salmon in the time it takes to boil an egg; some unfortunate throwback to the Scotch-Irish roots of the Tracy clan. But Man wasn’t made for space either, yet his Dad stood on the face of Mars. So maybe it’s natural that John wants to explore the places he doesn’t belong.

When he was 11, the six of them had spent one February Fourth in a specially built capsule in the Mojave Desert that mimicked the lunar simulation modules the SETI Institute had used in the early 2000s, when NASA had been prepping to go back to the moon. John doesn’t remember a time when he’d been happier than he was staring out the porthole of that cramped little module, imagining himself among the company of the great men and women who had walked on the moon.

Sometimes, when he needs to gather himself, John imagines himself curled up in the porthole window, watching the lunar landscape of the Mojave.

Yet But when he imagines the desert, this isn’t what he pictures. It looks all wrong as it hurtles past the window, in blocks of olive and grey under a forget-me-not sky. This desert doesn’t make him feel calm, just sweaty and anxious and itchy all at once. It looks yellow and scrubby and full of rattlesnakes; scar tissue on the landscape. It hurtles past and he wishes he were somewhere else.

A good first test.

There’s a chime above his head that signals the magnet train is slowing down and he breaks his fixed gaze on the winding landscape. His tablet has gone unattended for long enough that it’s gone dark. He’s too easily distracted all of a sudden.

He gathers his bag and tablet and rises. A few people make note of his movement, but nobody else in the carriage makes a move to disembark.

The magtrain glides to a halt and there’s a whoosh of hot, dry air as the door unseals itself. He steps out onto the raised platform. Along the train’s length passengers, most in uniform, diffuse in and out of the train. No one pays him any attention as they hurry towards the stairs and the exit, swiping their passes through the scanner. He follows.

There are convoy trucks waiting to pick up officers in the parking lot, and a dusty town taxi idling out in front of the red brick building, looking for business. He ignores it and makes the short walk into town.

By the time he gets there, there are dark patches of sweat beneath his armpits. He wipes his brow and stops at a dispenser to by a soda.

Avalon is a small, neat little place that mainly serves to support Rainshadow Airbase. There’s a county hospital and a couple of mom and pop stores, though most of the business has drained out of the centre of town. School kids wander around in packs. An elderly woman walking a tiny poodle smiles at him as he sips his pop. He finds McGruck’s, a sports’ bar, in a big lot off the main street.

The bartender is quick to ID him, but only shows real interest in his birthdate and not the person attached and after he’s been satisfied, leaves him nursing his beer and his tablet at the bar. Off duty airmen come in in dribs and drabs, and he earns a couple of curious looks, but nobody bothers him.

A little before seven there’s a tap on his shoulder, “Tracy?”

A rangy man in captain’s stripes has come up behind him. There’s a stir from the peanut gallery. This is not, John guesses, habitually a bar where officers come to drink. “John Tracy, right? I’m Skip Guerra.”

They’ve met before, though Skip probably doesn’t remember and John doesn’t remind him. Skip and Scott had been at school together and though Skip had been some years older, they had made friends running varsity track together. Scott had dragged John round to the dressing room to meet Skip the night he led the school football team to state. He had been gracious as he accepted John’s congratulations, though obviously wired to the moon and unlikely to remember. Skip had left for the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs the same year Scott had gone off to Yale. Now they serve in the same unit.

Skip is big in every dimension, has inches even on Scott. A small moustache makes him look older than his 26 years, and he is, John can tell, despite his bluff handshake, nervous.

“Thanks for coming.”

A tight nod. “I’ve got a car outside.”

They drive out of town, talking around the subject in question. Skip talks about the weather, their old school, Williams’ Prep and the differences between the GDF and the space programme. They reach Skip’s house, which is off base, where Skip’s wife Lisa and home-cooked spaghetti are waiting to ambush them.

John’s impatient to get on with the task at hand, but it’s rude to say no, particularly when he’s asking such a big favour, so he accepts as graciously as he can manage.

Skp and Lisa have got an 18-month-old son, Jake, and from the size of Lisa’s belly, another one on the way. Jake is fascinated by John’s red hair, and John – for whom babies have always been a separate country he is not planning on visiting – puts up with his interest. Lisa asks interested if routine questions about WWSA and Skip tells anecdotes about air force life. If it’s all designed to make John feel guilty, he thinks, as he passes around the basket of garlic bread, it’s working.

But when dinner is over and the plates are cleared Skip rises. “Time for John to be going,” he says. “I’ll be back later.” He kisses Lisa’s cheek.

As John closes the car door he says, “You don’t have to do this.”

“Sure, I do.” Skip starts the engine and puts the car into gear.

They drive. Within minutes they’re approaching Rainshadow Base and John feels his throat constrict.

Dad is Dad so of course he heard through channels first.

Scott is AWOL.

Or, to be precise, he is only guilty of Failure to Repair; but at 0900 hours yesterday Lieutenant Scott Tracy did not report to base after leave, and by 1700 hours he still has not reported to his commanding officer.

He’s not the only officer ever to fail to report in after leave. Maybe he missed his flight. Maybe he got the dates wrong. Maybe his mates, in high spirits, duct taped him to a pole and have forgotten where they left him. This sort of thing happens all the time.

Just not to Scott.

From the expression on Skip’s face he thinks so too.

Dad had called just as John was out for his morning run, having spent most of the night bailing Gordon out of a premature court marshalling at the WASP gala. “I’m telling you this,” Dad had said once he had broken the news, “Only because there’s a reasonable chance where you’re working that you might hear through other channels.”

John had never thought of himself as someone to be gossiped about or at. Maybe it was different with Scott. There was enough cross-over between the WWSA and the GDF that there was a possibility he would hear from some other source.

“You haven’t told the others?” he had asked.

“I don’t think there will be a need to.”

“When was the last time you heard from him?”

“The morning he left the island he called me a selfish, conceited son of a bitch. So at least we know he wasn’t acting out of character.” The attempt at a joke had fallen flat.

“He’s been missing a week?” He had been bundled up against the arctic cold. Suddenly his brain had felt as numb and clumsy as his hands.

“Absent. Not missing. Your brother’s always been good at letting me know he’s upset. Torching his career is certainly a potent signal fire.”

“Dad…”

“Kyrano’s already on his trail. And we’ll find him. I want you to stay where you are. Attend to your studies. If he contacts you, of course, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll update you periodically.”

“Dad, can I…”

“This is a good first test for you.”

A good first test. A test that he’s failing.

John Tracy is hacker like no other. John Tracy writes code the way Paul McCartney wrote pop hits. John Tracy has never met a digital door he did not want to open.

John Tracy cannot find his stupid, ignorant luddite of an older brother.

It should have been easy. Scott’s financial records, his flight history, his passage in and out of the security net that encircles the globe, it should have led John to him like a luminous contrail.

But Scott had landed in Algeria, withdrawn 2,000 dollars’ cash at the airport foreign exchange, disappeared into the city and…

Nothing.

No Scott. No trail. Nothing but white noise. Not even a starting point.

John spent half his time in MIT thinking and writing about search heuristics; for search and rescue; for stars; for prime numbers. Even the most basic search needs a node to start from.

And so now, here, with Skip, smiling politely in the passenger seat as they were waved through gate at Rainshadow Airbase, looking for somewhere to begin.

Scott had been the one to ruin their trip to the Mojave, hadn’t he? For three days all six of them had lived in close quarters, in the lunar simulation module, mimicking the lives of the first settlers on the moon, and how Dad had lived with Captains Taylor and Tsang when they had been building Shadow Alpha One. But on the morning of the fourth day, Scott had stumbled out of bed, and out the airlock, to relieve himself against the side of the capsule, decompressing the pod and killing his father and four brothers in the process.

Scott had been apologetic but unconcerned. Said it was an accident and that he had forgotten where they were. He had been nearly 14, unhappy about Dad’s decision to leapfrog him two years ahead into ninth grade, and ready for a little kickback. John, on the other hand, had been distraught, not ready for the adventure to end. He had begged Dad that they be allowed a do over, but Dad had said no. There were no second chances in space.

He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about that now.

Scott lives in unaccompanied officers’ quarters. Skip pulls up to the squat block of condos and parks. “This is it.”

“Thank you, Skip.”

Skip shrugs, nods. “Do you know what you’re looking for?”

Not really. Some clue or hint. Some trace of where Scott’s going or where he might be going, or what he might be thinking. An impression. A scent. “I’ll know it when I see it,” he says.

“John, I hope you find what you’re looking for, but you should know, I don’t think you’re going to find your brother in there.”

What a strange thing to say.

“You and Scott fly together, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re friends?” He’s got a sudden overwhelming feeling that this was a bad idea.

But Skip gives him a cryptic smile. “I’m not doing this because you asked politely. He does talk about you.”

“He does?”

“And I get the distinct impression that if anyone can find that squirrelly motherfucker and get him back where he belongs then it’s you. Yeah, we’re friends, John.”

A good first test.

“Okay.”

They get out of the car. Skip’s swipe key gets them into the building and up the stairs to Scott’s condo.

The first thing he notices is how clean it is. It’s at odds with the Scott he knows, who leaves dirty dishes in the sink and a breadcrumb trail of his clothes from the bathroom to his bed every night when getting undressed. Any habit can be learned, he supposes and somewhere along the way, someone has beaten neatness into Scott.

The kitchen-living room is sparse, impersonal. He rifles through the kitchen, but the cupboards are bare of anything more exciting than protein powder and cereal. The fridge holds nothing but ketchup and mustard.

He tries the bedroom. Skip follows.

In here too is neat and orderly, the corners of the bed are squared off. There’s a Light Type interface built into the desk that would have connected to Scott’s personal drive. When Skip isn’t looking, John takes a HUB from his pocket and sets it down, activating pre-set commands to clone everything that the interface has processed over the last two months.

He doesn’t linger by the desk and crosses to the other side of the room. The closet contains only neatly pressed uniforms, a couple of casual shirts in blue and cream, and rows of folded white t-shirts. There’s a small safe in the bottom of the closet, but it hangs open and any valuables have been cleared out.

There’s a digital picture frame on the windowsill that clicks to life when it detects motion, but the photos it cycles through are curiously blank of personality. A group picture of Scott’s squadron, a formal photograph of him smiling starkly at the camera at the receipt of his bronze star and a family portrait, the same one that goes out to the press when they’re looking to write about “Billionaire industrialist Jeff Tracy and his five fine boys”.

John feels a creep up his spine, like razor scraping bone. None of this feels genuine. It’s like he’s walked into an exhibition showcasing the life of one, ‘Lieutenant Scott Tracy’ rather into a place where anyone actually lives.

Angry again suddenly, he yanks open the drawer of the nightstand.

Inside the drawer are a flotsam of personal effects; a string of condoms; a blue inhaler, 11 months out of date, because Scott always forgets to resupply his prescription unless he’s having one of his infrequent asthma attacks; a Rubik’s cube, half-solved and then forgotten; a slim book.

He takes the book out of the drawer, turns it over, recognising it. It’s a copy of Slaughterhouse Five. The red and yellow dust jacket and leaves are real precious paper and the publisher’s seal says the volume was published in 1972. John had sourced it himself, from a small antique book dealer in San Francisco. It had been a rather pointed Christmas gift to Dad and he remembers noting now, how it hadn’t been on Dad’s book shelf the last time he was in his office.

It looks well-thumbed. There are greasy finger marks along its spine and its pages are dog-eared, like it’s been read and read again. He doesn’t remember it ever being a favourite of Scott’s

He’s about to open his mouth to ask Skip if he knows anything about it when Skip puts a finger to his lips. Outside there comes the murmur of soft voices and the bleepclick of the latch unhooking.

John puts the book back and slides the drawer closed. Skip quickly crosses the room and switches off the light. He motions for both of them to step into the bathroom. There are footsteps in the outer room, the jangle of keys and then nothing.

Through the crack in bathroom the door John peers out into the bedroom. The light in the outer room comes on, throwing a slim rectangle of white light against the bedroom wall.

He glances at his watch. It’s 9:45. There’s no reason for anyone else to be here.

“Are they looking for us?”

Skip gives the slightest shake of his head.

If I’m caught, he thinks, I’ll just step out. No one needs to know Skip was here. His pulse is hammering in his ears.

A rhomboid of white light slides across the floor as the door swings open. Whoever is outside, they are coming in.

“This is it. Be quick, okay?” says a woman’s voice in a whisper. “I’m deep in the shit if they find you here.”

“Okay.”

John’s still trying to figure out what’s going on when Skip surges forward. “Goddamn it to hell, Stubbs, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

The electric light comes on and the light box vanishes from the floor. He hears the woman falter at the sudden appearance of Skip. “Captain!”

“Airman, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Sneaking civilians onto the base? Breaking and entering. Do you know how many charges you’re risking?”

“Please, it wasn’t her fault. I asked her to,” says a voice, a familiar voice, a very familiar voice.

“Virgil?”

“John?”

He steps out of the shelter of the bathroom and sees Virgil standing in the doorway. His younger brother practically looms over the young Airwoman with dark hair standing in front of him. Skip looms over them both, but flinches when John sticks his head around the door.

“What are you doing here?” Virgil gapes at him.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

“I…uh…”

“Well, isn’t this a clusterfuck?” says Skip, placing his hands on his hips. “Stubbs, I oughta write you up.”

The airwoman fidgets. She’s tiny, with black hair looped in a tight braid and anxious sloe black eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, Cap. Really I am. But they’ve been talking shit about… There’s been inappropriate talk about Lieutenant Tracy in the mess, Captain and why he hasn’t reported to duty. And he,” She taps Virgil on the shoulder “Was so determined to find him. I wanted to help him, you know?” She gives John the side eye and the flash of a smile. “I guess you do know. Which one do you got?”

“The astronaut. Who’s that?” Skip glares at Virgil. “The Olympian?”

“The artist. Except he says he’s a pilot now.”

He says he’s a what?

But Skip just rolls his eyes. “Go figure.”

“We have names, you know,” says Virgil, peevishly. “We’re not a collectable set of breakfast cereal toys.”

“Of course not, kid,” says Skip, placating but patronising. “What’s your youngest brother again? The congressman?”

“He’s in middle school!” both John and Virgil snap, simultaneously.

Joh scowls and Virgil digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“What are you doing here, Virgil?” John asks.

“Same as you. Looking for Scott.”

“You’re supposed to be at school.”

“Yeah, well. You’ve got better places to be too, right?” Virgil raises his chin so he’s looking at John and not the floor. There’s a stubborn jut to it, at once familiar and out of place on Virgil. Something seems different about him and for a moment John can’t place just what it is. Then he realises. Virgil’s always run to stocky, ungenerously even to chubby. At thirteen it had made him self-conscious enough to start to camouflage his weight with layers of shirts and t-shirts. Somewhere in the last week he’s shed those extraneous layers. In just a pair of faded jeans and a v-neck grey t-shirt it’s immediately clear what should have been obvious last week. The puppy fat is gone. Virgil’s tanned and fit and for the first time in his life, probably in better shape than John.

He’s still got that stupid moustache though.

“Hey, Stubbs,” Skip says, a little louder than is necessary. “Come out here for a sec, I got something real important to show you in the kitchen.”

“Yes, Captain.” Stubbs winks at Virgil and they both step out of the room, pull the door shut behind her.

John eases himself away from the bathroom door and Virgil pushes off from the wall. They shuffle a little closer to each other.

“I didn’t think you knew he was missing.” John says. “Did Dad tell you?”

“Sort of.” Virgil’s fingers brush the tucked in corner of the bed. “I was with him when he got the news.”

“He came to see you in Chicago?”

“Something like that,” Virgil murmurs. “I’m surprised he told you.”

“There’s a lot of air force personnel with the space agency. I suppose he was afraid the news would get to me anyway.”

“And did it?”

“No. Why would it?”

“I dunno. It seems like Stubbs was saying there’s a lot of talk about him.”

“Maybe I just don’t’ pay attention to that sort of stuff.”

Virgil looks around. “Does he really live here?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Did you find anything?”

“No.”

Virgil jostles past him, as if he doesn’t trust John to look, or as if maybe Scott’s hiding in the bathroom too. He looks inside, brushes the shower curtain back, and then pulls the wardrobe door open. His fingers grope right to the back of the empty safe.

John lets him at it, goes to retrieve his hard-drive where a one-two-three blink tells him it has finished its work. He pockets it and picks up the digital photo-frame. It cycles to the family portrait, the five of them smiling blandly on the balcony of the New York penthouse. Teeth immaculately white, hair immaculately brushed, each of them arranged so that John’s red hair won’t clash with Alan’s blonde and Scott’s height wouldn’t look comical among his smaller brothers. Dad’s wearing a black bomber jacket, like he’s just leapt off the gantry of Artemis 5. Heroic astronaut and family man. They look perfect.

The reality was that they had been miserable. None of them had wanted to give the first day of school holidays over to the dreary photoshoot. Virgil had crashed through arpeggios on the baby grand piano between set ups and Alan, who had been only seven, had thrown a DEFCON One tantrum because he was jet-lagged and out of sync with the time zone and it was way past his bedtime. Every time John found a quiet place to read he was disturbed by a stylist trying to stick yet more safety pins into his hated grey and green sweater vest.

Scott had turned up at quarter to six, fresh from his first year at college and with Miss Rhode Island in tow. He’d showered, thrown on the white shirt and slate grey trousers selected for him, thoroughly charmed the stylists and posed for the photos without ever alerting anyone from the press that he and Dad weren’t even speaking to each other.

That had been the same article in which Dad had said, “the future of space exploration is the property of the capitalist” John remembers, with a wince.

He wonders what it is about that photo that makes Scott want to keep it around, want to display it here people can see it. Why he wants this reminder of their wax figure selves, so artificial that if you tapped them hard enough they might shatter. John can never believe just how dreamy and dim he himself looks in those photos, or how Gordon looks butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth angelic.

And the louche Scott in the picture looks nothing like the immaculate model soldier who fades up as the balcony photo fades out. The buttons on his uniform and the medal pinned to his chest sparkle. He gleams.

Virgil is peering over his shoulder now, his brows knotted together. “Hey, Scott,” he says to the photograph and then to John, “There’s nothing here,” Virgil says.

“No.”

“I thought there’d be something.” He sounds disappointed.

“What are you doing here, Virgil? Were you expecting to find him hiding out in the bathtub?” It comes out more harshly than he mean.

But Virgil just seems amused. “You’re going to give me grief about being here? What are you doing here? Guilty conscience?”

“Of course not. Why would I have a guilty conscience?”

Virgil gives him a look. “Gee, I don’t know, Johnny. Maybe something to do with the shouting match you had just outside my door last week.”

“You heard that.”

“Grandpa Grant heard that.” Virgil pulls one of Scott’s hoodies over his head and puts his hands into the pockets. “And I’m here because I thought this would be as good a place as any to start. Figure out where he’s been, so I know where he’s going. Talk to his friends. I��m going to find Scott,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “Drag him home kicking and screaming if I have to. You can help. Since you’re here.”

“Gosh. Thanks.” But suddenly he does feel guilty. Not about Scott, but for Virgil. Poor Virgil. Of course, he wants to help. Of course, he wants to be seen to be doing something useful for once. It seems petty to point out if Kyrano can’t find Scott, if not a single digital rock John’s turned over has offered up one lead there’s precious little Virgil’s going to be able to do in the situation.

“It’s not like he just disappeared. People don’t just van – ” Virgil breaks off, colours suddenly. “I didn’t mean. Sorry, John.”

“What? Oh. That.”

When he was nine years old John had been kidnapped. He had been walking home from school one day when Scott had stayed late for basketball practice. An arm had gone around his waist and another over his nose and he had been picked up and tossed into the back of a van. One of his kidnappers had brandished a knife at him in the van, told him that good little boys were well treated but bad little boys had their fingers cut off one by one.

After that they had been civil to him, fed him cold spaghetti hoops and given him a gamegle to play with.

He wishes he could say he had been brave or plucky or clever, that he had outwitted his captors and escaped on his own, but the reality is that he had spent a long weekend playing Tetris Masters in a cramped duplex in downtown Portland. At the end of the third day there had been terrifying sounds outside and he had buried his head beneath his blanket. But when the door creaked open it had been Kyrano who had been outside, ready to scoop him up and take him home.

When he looks back on it now it seems like something that happened to someone else. The worst part had been when, firmly held in Dad’s arms, he had had to wade through the sea of flashing cameras and shouting reporters from the steps of the hospital to the car.

In the aftermath, Dad had insisted on subcutaneous GPS transmitters for each of them. Before leaving Algiers, Scott had cut his out and flushed it. John’s seen the records It had transmitted for three days from the bottom of a reservoir outside Algeria before blinking out.

John feels a sudden creep along his spine. Had it been flushed? Had Dad sent divers to retrieve it? Had they checked the rest of Scott wasn’t down there with it? And why hadn’t that occurred to John before now? He’d just assumed that Scott had taken himself off to sulk, to lick his wounds in private, to throw his disapproval in Dad’s face by torpedoing his career. Before now he’d never considered other possibilities. He had thought Scott understandable, quantifiable, a problem he had already solved.

But who is this Scott who can make himself vanish without leaving a digital trace? And who is this person living a carefully studied half-life in place of his dreams?

John’s legs give out from under him and he sits down on the bed.

“John.” Virgil’s hand grips his shoulder. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“I’m fine.”

A good first test.

But Dad hadn’t meant that finding Scott was his first test. He had meant:

When you’re 200,000 miles above the Earth’s surface, dropping everything and coming home is not going to be an option available to you.

He had meant: You’re going to have to learn what it costs to be able to do nothing when people you care about are in trouble.

He had meant: I need someone cool, collected, dispassionate. Someone who can be rational even when people they care about are in danger; especially when people they care about are in danger.

So, John’s already failed this test, because he’s here, chasing his tail in the desert, imagining worst case scenarios and achieving nothing as the possibility of finding Scott gets more and more remote.

Fuck you, Scott.

Because even in his absence Scott’s deconstructing him, making him doubt himself, pointing out he’s not the man he thought he was.

“Come on, John.” Virgil takes him by the arm. “We should go. He’s not here, okay.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He’s quiet as Virgil says goodbye to Stubbs and as Skip drives them back off the base. They pull in in the parking lot of a 7eleven. Beneath a no loitering sign a beat-up jalopy stands parked. “This is me,” says Virgil.

The car looks like it runs on rust and prayer. Skip raises an eyebrow as he pulls in. “Is this what the Tracy boys are driving nowadays?”

Virgil scratches his head, embarrassed. “It belongs to Dave, my neighbour. He loaned it to me in exchange for a painting and my bike. I don’t think he ever thought I could get it to run.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“Wait a second.” John allows this to sink in for a moment. “Your neighbour? In Chicago?! You didn’t drive clean across the country in that?”

Virgil nods, shrugs. “Had to. Dad grounded me.”

“Virgil, you’re nearly nineteen. He can’t ground you.”

Virgil shrugs. “Froze my assets then. Revoked my clearance to my bank accounts, even the ones he wasn’t supposed to know about.” John doesn’t miss the way Skip’s eyebrows go up. “Gave me sixty dollars a day to live on and five days to clear out my apartment and hand my notice in at my job.”

“Why?”

Virgil shrugs, sanguine. “Maybe he was afraid I’d take off to New Mexico to look for Scott.” He opens the door of Skip’s car to let himself out. “Thank you very much, Captain Guerra.”

“Nice to meet you, Virgil. And nice moustache.”

John jumps out of the car after him. “You’re not going to drive back in that death trap?”

“Sure. Wanna ride? Where you going?”

“I’ve got a 7am flight,” he says stiffly. To LAX with no connecting flight. It had seemed a good international hub to start from. He had figured by then he would know where he was going. “I’m booked into an airport hotel in Albuquerque.”

“Yeah. That’s on my way. I can take you.” He reads John’s expression. “Or I can drop you back to town and you can get the train.”

“Come back with me.” John rolls his eyes. “I’ll pay for your flight.”

“I don’t need your money, John.”

“No, you need a miracle to keep that thing running.”

“Anyway, I promised Dave I’d have the car back.”

Dave, John decides at once, is clearly a frustrated serial killer.

“Virgil, I… I’m pulling rank. I can’t let you drive that thing across the country.”

This is the part where Virgil folds. It’s where he always folds. If it were Gordon or Alan it might be different, but Virgil can be relied upon to be sensible and obedient. Except this Virgil is grinning a most un-Virgil like grin, and folding his arms on the roof of the car. “Then I guess you have until Albuquerque to convince me not to.”

There was a time, when gasoline was cheaper and more readily available, that freeways were the arteries of America, but that was before economies of scale in fusion tech made public transport the faster, cheaper option. Nowadays, automobiles are mainly used for short distances. Driving is a dying art. The freeways are half-empty and poorly maintained, populated mainly by the huge 26 and 48-wheeler transport wagons, itinerant nu-gypsies and the occasional motoring hobbyist.

They speed along in silence that stops just short of companionable. The night is squid ink black and full of stars. The head beams of the transport wagons dazzle him as they harrumph out of the darkness and rattle past. There’s music playing softly over the speakers. It’s neither unpleasant nor identifiable. Virgil’s always been an early adopter when it comes to new music.

The jalopy doesn’t even have an autodrive function so Virgil has to steer, but they’re making good time. John can’t shake the sensation that he should be saying something, but he’s just not sure as to what it is. Every time he tries it gets turned into a clearing of his throat or a groan.

But a sign tells him that Albuqueque is only a hundred miles away so he clears his throat once more and asks, “Did you know about any of this? Did he confide in you?”

Virgil keeps his eyes on the road as he says, “Johnny, Scott doesn’t really talk to me at all, except to say, ‘Uh, how’s the art thing going, Virg?’ like I’m seven.”

“Oh… uh, how is the art thing going?”

“I quit.” Virgil’s expression doesn’t change. “I’m going to Stanford in the fall, on Dad’s dime. Engineering.”

“Oh.”

He wants to ask more but something in Virgil’s manner strongly discourages it and a minute later he pulls into one of the roadside gas stations and stops. “I’m starving. Getcha anything?”

John shrugs. “Sure. Whatever you’re having.”

“I’ll get two of everything then.”

A second later John remembers the danger. “No granola bars, Virgil.” He calls at his brother’s retreating back. “And I don’t want a kale smoothie!” John’s got an astronaut’s general outlook on health but a computer programmer’s compulsive need for E numbers.

“Sure thing, John. Just caffeine, cocaine and gin.” He waves a hand and keeps walking.

He gets out of the car to stretch his legs and goes for a short prowl around the tiny outdoor seating area. Just as he’s stretching out his quads, his phone rings.

“Hey there, polar bear.”

Rest, and a day of forced routine attending lectures, have obviously done Gordon some good. He’s evened out a little, lost that manic gleam. Last night – or rather in the early hours of this morning – it had been all John had been able to do to coninvce him to get some sleep. He had spent most of the evening stuck between gears, trapped between being furious at this Lady Penelope and being utterly besotted. One minute John had been talking him down from turning her and himself in to the Admiralty, and the next he seemed about ready to start carving “GCT hearts PCW” into bulkhead walls. He had paced back and forth, bouncing up onto his hammock and back down again, peeling off one item of clothing at a time until he was down to his t-shirt and boxer-briefs, repeating things that had been said to him or about him, collapsing with a sigh in his chair and then leaping up to say, “And another thing!”

This evening at least he seems calmer, though the first words out of his mouth are still, “I’ve been thinking about that Lady Penelope chick.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yeah, really,” says Gordon, who is maybe not as oblivious to sarcasm on the subject as John had thought. He’s tipped back precariously on his chair, slurping kelp noodles with a pair of ceramic chop sticks. “Do you think you could track her down?”

In fact, there’s already a burgeoning file about the Lady Penelope Creighton Ward in John’s personal vault, locked behind every digital protection John can come up with, but he’s not going to tell Gordon that. “I’m not sure.”

“Oh, come on, Johnnycakes. You can find anybody.”

John winces. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel tonight’s session. Something’s come up.”

“No prob. Everything okay? John?” Gordon’s looking hard at him now and the edges of his smile are starting to droop. He looks unsettled.

“Everything’s fine,” John says and to change the subject he says, “What would you say if I told you Virgil wanted to go to Stanford to study engineering.”

Gordon nods. “Makes sense. Good school.”

“It is a good school. Don’t you think it might be too good a school? Virgil’s always been more focused on the arts then academics.”

“That’s… true.”

“Some of the guys I work with studied engineering at Stanford. They said that was excellent but intense. Might it not be too much for Virgil? He barely scraped through high school math.”

Suddenly Gordon cracks a broad smile. “Oh no. Are we about to have the birds and the bees talk? We are! Oh, no. Johnny!” He throws back his head and laughs.

“Gor… Cooper!”

“Sorry. Sorry. So. When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much and the mommy and the daddy both have IQs pushing 160…”

“Cooper, be serious.”

Gordon slurps a kelp noodle back into his skull. “What I mean is… John, you know Virgil’s good at math, right?”

“Of course, he’s fine, sure. But there are standards–”

“John, you know that Virgil is smart, right?”

“Of course, but multiple intelligences are -”

“No. Not multiple intelligences. Not everyone is special in their own special way. Not everyone get out your crayons and form a circlejerk because we are all about to be blowtorched by the fiery intellect by John Glenn Tracy… I’m losing the run of this metaphor. To rephrase: You know Virgil is smart, like smart smart. Like, you smart.”

There is a moment’s silence, then Gordon groans. “Oh man, you didn’t. Oh, no. I was counting on you to tell Scott. Does this mean I’m going to have to tell Scott? I’m not telling Scott. Why do you think his ‘math tutor’ was an emeritus professor of mathematics instead of the usual broke post-grad?”

“I thought… I thought that was just Dad being Dad.”

“Well, yeah, sure, little bit. Also, no! C’mon, Dude, he got 1007 on his SAT scores the year the mean score was 1006. He nearly failed basic trig yet somehow managed to get by in all those AP calc courses. John, he actually read your dissertation.”

For just a moment John goggles. “Oh, shit.”

Gordon’s noodles nearly come back down his nose. “Johnny, you said a bad word!”

“I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Don’t forget to keep up with your reading.”

“Yes, teach. Say hi to Virgil for me.”

By the time Virgil returns with supplies John’s already got their route to Chicago planned out along with appropriate rest stops and gas stations for re-supplies. “It’s a 26.2-hour drive to Chicago traveling at 60 miles per hour. We’ll each take two six hour shifts, with fifteen minute breaks every two hours. Why don’t you take first shift, while I work out our rest stops.”

“Okay, Johnny.”

Virgil takes the first six hours and John the second. By the time he finishes his shift he’s been awake for 39 hours, so while Virgil drives he dozes in the back seat.

When he wakes up, they’re already in Kansas.

#bbt #john tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #thunderbirds are go

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danschkade · 8 years ago

Text

PAGE x PAGE ANALYSIS — ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN #69 (2005) with special guest AUD KOCH

Dan Schkade and Aud Koch (right)

ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN #69

PUBLISHED: Marvel Comics, January 2005

SCRIPT: Brian Michael Bendis

PENCILS: Mark Bagley

INKS: Scott Hanna

COLORS: J.D. Smith with Chris Sotomayor

LETTERS: Chris Eliopoulos

EDITORIAL: Ralph Macho with Nick Lowe

Brian Michael Bendis and Mark Bagley wrote and drew ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN for one hundred and eleven consecutive monthly issues. Can you even imagine.

(I, by contrast, drew WILL EISNER’S THE SPIRIT for twelve consecutive monthly issues and barely made it out with all my fingers still intact.)

Neither or them went into this cold — Bendis cut his teeth on a long series of hard-edged indie crime thrillers like AKA GOLDFISH and TORSO, while Bagley had been a regular Marvel Comics fixture since the eighties, with a strong history drawing Spider-Man in particular. But they both hit their stride on ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN, kicking out a new version of the character that felt fresh and familiar and, in the process, creating one of the most consistently entertaining superhero comics this side of EMPOWERED. My personal MVPs: their new versions of Aunt May, Daredevil, and the surprisingly affecting mega-narrative of the Ultimate Green Goblin. And that ending — ho man, that ending.

The issue we’ll be looking at this week, ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN #69: “MEET ME,” takes place more or less in the middle of their mammoth hundred and eleven issue run. And that’s part of why I chose it — the goal of this feature is to take solid, workmanlike comics from professionals who know what they’re about and see what makes them tick, but also to see what we can learn from their mistakes. Mister Bagley’s credentials are unimpeachable; I’d place him up with John Romita JR and Andy Kubert as one of my top living artists of straight-up old-school Marvel-style Super Hero Comics. But mid-run slippage is inevitable, and sometimes the shortcuts of a good artist can be just as useful to pick apart as the abject failures of a bad one.

I also picked this issue because I thought it’d be a good fit for my guest: comic artist Aud Koch, one my favorite people to talk theory with and someone whose output I’m both impressed by on a peer level and super into on a fan level. Even though this is the first time I’ve had a guest on this feature and I only half know what I’m doing, Aud was still willing to sit down and help me beta test the tandem Page X Page Analysis experience like a mensch. Now, Aud’s the nicest person you’ll meet in a year, but she’ll also tell you exactly what she thinks and damn the torpedoes. She’ll make some poor young artist cry one of these days. She’ll feel just awful about it, too. My point is: I didn’t exactly pick her name out of a hat for this, y’know?

With that, let’s go to the transcript!

ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN #69 and all characters contained therein are property of Marvel Comics, reproduced here solely for educational purposes.

PAGE ONE

DAN: So, Aud: are you of the opinion that a single issue should be a complete story in and of itself?

AUD: That depends on what the intention of the writer is. I think this one is fine without being that way — I mean, this whole series is set up like a teen drama show. They always have cliffhangers.

DAN: And “previously ons…”

DAN: There’s certainly a lot more boring ways you could start an issue off.

AUD: It’s definitely eye-catching, but an immediate problem is: who’s the main character? You’d think from the first panel that it’s Liz. Or Johnny, who’s the one with the big action shot. But no, it’s actually those tiny little figures in the corner.

DAN: We’re not really getting much from her expression in panel one.

AUD: Which is a problem that I had throughout a lot of the comic. The expressions felt slightly off to me.

DAN: I would have to agree. The point of this exercise is not to nitpick, but sometime small details really do go a long way towards keeping a page from working.

AUD: Later on, there’s that scene that’s entirely just Peter and MJ standing around talking to Johnny for like four, five pages, so it entirely rests on the acting that Bagely does through characters, but there’s no movement happening at all. Bagley doesn’t do the thing where he makes everything a soap opera, which is good, but he also can leave his figures rather flat.

PAGE TWO

DAN: The game’s upped quite a bit here. I feel like we get a lot more from the expressions. Bagley has a great model for the Human Torch — he’s able to suggest emotions and facial details even though he’s all flamed up.

AUD: The artistry of the flames on Johnny is really beautiful. Looking at it now, these last three panels should have been the first ones of the issue.

DAN: Mm, yeah! We’d start off with Johnny looking down at our main characters. Because it really is Peter and Johnny’s interaction that the issue hinges on — Liz’s story is a secondary thing, even though she’s the first character we see in this issue. Bagley and inker Scott Hanna do a good job of suggesting the city in the panel one background, giving the scene a good sense of pace; They’re not in the Mojave desert, they’re on a beach near New York.

AUD: Something I found a bit distracting though is — what the hell is going on with that moon? Like, that’s not a moon! It’s a warty… mass!

DAN: Fair enough. And it’s funny because the city’s so nicely abstracted, while the moon is — I feel you there.

AUD: It’s like a giant tumor in the sky!

DAN: I also have a little problem with Liz’s motion in panel two.

AUD: Yes! She should be be running away from Jonny and off the page. That way she’d be looking back at him as she make her exit off the page.

DAN: Yeah, I think that would be better.

PAGE THREE

DAN: Here we have another juicy Human Torch splash image…

AUD: See, that’s another money shot — storytelling-wise, it would have made more sense if it was us looking up at Johnny from where Peter and MJ were standing, seeing him him shooting off into the distance from their point of view. This one looks like we’re about to follow Johnny off on some… flame adventure.

DAN: You’re right, it really does feel like we’re transitioning to his POV, when that’s clearly not what’s going on.

AUD: Bagley also didn’t take into account where speech bubbles would go. you can see that the letterer was like “what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

DAN: Yeah, they’re spillin’. He could’ve dropped the figures a little bit.

AUD: The only reason it doesn’t fit is because Bagley wanted to leave room for this image of Johnny shooting off, which again, storytelling-wise, doesn’t really work.

DAN: One thing I do really like about those bottom three panels — they’re this nice narrative unit, small and cramped and comic booky in the corner to offset the splashy sci-fi spectacle of Johnny shooting off into the night above. It makes MJ’s dialogue, which is think is pretty funny here, even funnier by comparison — it’s like a small comedy aside.

AUD: But then, they are the main characters…

DAN: They are the main characters! Good point.

PAGE FOUR

DAN: Alright, here we are back in the Baxter Building.

AUD: This is one where it was really, like, these expressions are so flat… it doesn’t carry the scene.

DAN: One art thing I have trouble with here… I don’t know if Sue is his mom or the same age as him. I have trouble placing her.

AUD: Well, the only reason you’d know that is because she says “little brother,” which I feel like Bendis might have added because it wasn’t clear.

DAN: It’s a problem when you have a character who’s supposed to be a teenager, which Sue clearly is —

AUD: Wait, she’s a teenager?

DAN: I mean, is she not?

AUD: [Laughs] She probably is…!

DAN: I mean, that’s a problem, we should know! And she’s wearing lipstick and whatnot…

AUD: It’s that hollywood syndrome! Women don’t wear makeup when they’re in let-down at home clothes. Ack.

DAN: That said, I think Bagley does a good job of moving the camera around. Even though there’s not a lot happening on this page, it’s not static. After Johnny says “leave me alone” in panel five, we cut to this nice, lonely panel with heavy shadows.

AUD: I don’t like the way they’re facing inward in that panel necessarily, though.

DAN: You’re rather maintain Johnny’s rightward positioning from the earlier panels, to maintain a sense of space?

AUD: I want his face to keep facing the bottom right corner, so if Sue’s off to the side, she’d be closer to the outside of the page, since she’s on the outside of him in the conversation.

DAN: Yeah! Johnny’s sitting still and staring in one direction, so we really should we moving around with Sue, not moving around with Johnny, who’s stationary. That’s a really good point. Also — I like the hot pretzel line in panel four. That was something specific to them that nicely places them as siblings. Sometimes that little element of specificity can really help sell a scene.

AUD: The devil is in the details!

DAN: The devil’s in the details.

PAGE FIVE

AUD: Bagley does do really good backgrounds. That feels like a school.

DAN: Mm! What are the elements that cement that for you?

AUD: Well, it’s not generic. The front of that building is really nice. That’s a building that I’ve never seen before, and that I haven’t seen in movies, which is good because that means he isn’t doing the pruned-down, basic idea of what a school should look like.

DAN: Yeah! And it’s still got the cement walls, it’s got the low ceilings and whatnot.

AUD: All of the people in the backgrounds are doing things, which is awesome. They’re not just standing around like props.

DAN: It’s true. And then also, they’re not overacting. You’re right, he’s really good at that. A couple nice little touches — the back of this guy’s t-shirt, the Home Ec textbook. We didn’t need those details to place it as a school, but they do add some variety. I feel like the pacing in these last three panels are not as good as the writing is. The panels three and four are setting up her reaction in panel five, so it’s weird to me that panels four and five in this sequence are sub-panels of panel three. I would rather have the first two take place in the same plane. Setup, setup, then payoff.

AUD: My major beef with the sequence is: the reason that she feels so bad is everyone’s laughing at her, right, but we can’t see the people laughing at her.

DAN: We should see them laughing! It might even be better if we switched it so we don’t see many people in the panel three, and then see them all in panel five.

AUD: Yeah, do it so it’s just MJ and Liz at first, and you get the growing sense of her being surrounded by these glaring entities.

[Aud’s edit, version 1:]

DAN: Or! Have panels three and four right next to each other in their own row, then have panel five be a wide panel along the bottom of the page. I think that would be a superior version of an already fairly solid page.

[Aud’s edit, version 2:]

DAN: The scene is also very mid-2000s, which I appreciate.

AUD: That’s another thing with his setting! It does really look like the time period it was drawn in, which is fun.

DAN: Yeah, it’s not just the stock comic book teenagers. I think that’s why this series was so popular when it came out. It really did feel like high school, despite the fact nobody working on it was… matriculating.

PAGE SIX

DAN: I like that Johnny’s car is red. I think that’s a slick color cue.

AUD: The only thing I have to say is… Bagley consistently does these weird perspectives that throw you out of following who the main characters are supposed to be. Like, I don’t like that opening panel. There’s something off about looking down on them.

DAN: Ohh, yeah. That’s a good point. The camera isn’t down with them, it’s distant, it’s above. There’s a nice line of motion where Peter and MJ in panel one lead into Peter’s position in panel two, but then Bagely breaks it immediately by switching the camera around in panel three. That said, I do really like Johnny’s incognito-wear.

AUD: [Laughs] Talking about early 2000s…

DAN: Right? I love it.

PAGE SEVEN

DAN: So, like you said earlier, these Peter and MJ talking to Johnny pages are a little bit — well, there’s not a lot happening.

AUD: I feel like the scenes where there’s just people standing around give you the most room to, like, wander and throw in creative things. Do fun acting, have them fidget. This does not do that.

DAN: I do like that close-up of MJ in panel two. It helps us identify with her; it sells her curiosity and her sympathy. A different version of this panel might have had her farther away, in which case that line could have sounded a lot more accusatory. I feel like this averts that.

AUD: All of these pages are superficially fine. There’s a good variation of sizes of faces… I don’t look at this like, “I don’t know how to read this,” which is nice.

DAN: Being able to read the comic is very important. Yeah, the drawings are all really attractive, the coloring is good as well — it works together well as a package. I think what we’re harping on here is unfulfilled potential.

AUD: Yes!

DAN: Speaking of color, I like what colorist JD Smith did with the sky. It sells the end of the school day really nicely and avoids being just “sky colored!”

PAGE EIGHT

DAN: I like the negative space on this page.

AUD: Yeah, that is interesting…

DAN: Really nice flow of action from panels one to three. Johnny’s head turns slightly between the first and third panel, which sells this beat of silence in panel two. And I like dropping out the panel border in three; it makes him feel alone and insecure. I wish there was more stuff like this in the issue.

AUD: And I wish there was more stuff like Peter’s stance in panel five.

DAN: Yeah! One foot up on the curb, one in the gutter. That’s really nice.

AUD: Whereas in all these other panels, they’re just standing straight.

DAN: This is a very attractive final panel.

PAGE NINE

DAN: More great negative space on this page. You almost feel like Bagley started to get bored in this scene and started to change things up.

AUD: Which yeah, if only he had… done that earlier?

DAN: Same thing with Peter’s silhouette in panel three. It’s a really intelligent use of Peter’s design, indicating him by just his the line of his floppy hair.

AUD: Which, if I remember correctly, there was quite a bit of mocking of throughout every comic he appeared in.

DAN: And I like that! I like that Peter has goofy nerd hair. Because he’s a goofy nerd — that’s a big part of his appeal. When Peter Parker is too cool, he starts to fall apart, I think.

AUD: Panel six is bad.

DAN: [Laughs] Why is panel six bad, Aud?

AUD: Okay, so, once again, we’re coming from Peter and MJ’s perspective, but we’re in front of Johnny’s car. He’s driving into where we’re standing! Why would you not have him be driving away from the viewer? Bagley consistently puts the motion of action towards the viewer, and that doesn’t make sense to me.

DAN: It makes for a more dynamic image, but… it can make for muddy storytelling.

AUD: Yeah, it makes the motion come to a halt, because there’s nowhere for your eye to go.

DAN: I feel like this comic really thinks Johnny’s the main character. And I just… don’t… think he is. Maybe that’s on me.

PAGE TEN

DAN: More of that curious downward angle. Yeah, I’m with you — I’d rather have more environment shots from the ground. Because this doesn’t really tell me anything about the environment — all I get from this is that they’re still approximate to the parking lot. And as an artist, if you’re in a rush, you’re just begging to make technical mistakes if you keep shooting things from this angle.

AUD: Yep.

DAN: But, again, credit where it’s due, good job moving the camera around the characters. Nice full body acting in panel three — which is shot from the ground, and is super attractive. Maybe he should do more of that! I dunno! And Peter and MJ’s dialogue continues to be funny.

AUD: It’s delightful!

DAN: Bendis is aware this is magic, and he gives us a good amount of it.

AUD: Yes! Going back to the teen drama — what makes this so good is the personality of the characters and how much they come through. The dialogue carries it a whole lot.

DAN: This comic has a nice small cast — you understand all their motivations, they all have distinct voices and personalities. The human element is really well put together.

PAGE ELEVEN

AUD: This page — I hate this page.

DAN: [Laughs]

AUD: Okay, I don’t hate it, but I have major issues reading it.

DAN: Tell me!

AUD: The first two panels are fine, but then — where the hell are you supposed to go??

DAN: That’s a good point! That’s a very good point. Now, If I block out panel three—

AUD: It works! You don’t need that panel!

DAN: Really, all we’d need is to change Johnny in panel four, from looking around to looking up at Peter. The reason why he’s looking around isn’t super clear — since Johnny is supposed to be under wraps, I’m assuming that when he sees Spider-Man, he’s looking around to see if there’s other costumed people who’re gonna jump him. We can do without that.

AUD: Okay, other funny thing — as you said, Bagley thinks that Johnny is the main character. This is supposed to be from Spider-Man’s point of view, right? So the first shot should be from where Spider-Man is seeing him. Even if you don’t see Spidey in the shot.

DAN: Well, yeah, that would be a nice shot/reverse shot from panel two to panel three. It’s funny; in panel two, we actually WANT Bagley to do the down angle.

AUD: Yeah!

DAN: There’s an easy fix for this wonky reading order that keeps all the panels:

You drop panel three half an inch and make panel two a page-wide environment shot. It’s a subtle difference, but I think it strengthens the flow of the scene.

AUD: And also, why do we even need the time? Just to show it’s been a while since school got out?

DAN: It’s shows — He’s supposed to meet Liz at 5:00, and this shows it’s been… longer. It also shows that Spidey was allowing for the possibility that Liz would show up. He doesn’t just pop up at 5:00.

AUD: Ahhh, right. Okay. Yeah. But why is Johnny wearing the costume? Like, if he’s incognito, why is he wearing the Fantastic Four costume?

DAN; Well… I guess, in this universe, nobody knows it’s a Fantastic Four costume yet.

AUD: But he’s still obviously wearing some kind of uniform.

DAN: I dunno, maybe he just came from, y’know, street luging.

AUD: [Laughs]

DAN: Still rocking his street luge gear.

AUD: “…Street luge…”

PAGE TWELVE

DAN: Okay, so I really like the arc of Spider-Man’s movement on this page. It starts mid panel one, comes up and down in a nice arc across the top three panels. That’s really cool.

AUD: However; it would’ve made more sense to me if it started with his face pointing in some way towards the right.

DAN: I agree that would be a little bit better; even if his head was just cheated that way a little bit. I still think this works fine, but that would’ve been a slight improvement.

AUD: Even if the body was just flipped.

DAN: Ah, yeah, yeah! That’s good. Even just inverting Spidey’s position in panel one makes it that much smoother:

AUD: It still trips my letting thing. You want to read straight down from panel one into panel four.

DAN: Yeahhhh, that is unfortunate.

PAGE THIRTEEN-FOURTEEN

DAN: So, this is great.

AUD: Yes, except… okay, I do like it. But for me, it was another lettering issue. I feel like they were hesitant to put any dialogue in in panels two, four, and seven because there was so little room to the left of the fold. Maybe if those panels had been extended half an inch, they could’ve… I don’t know…

DAN: I think I disagree with you on this one. I think that they chose to make it a quasi double-page splash because Bendis wanted this moment to exist all at once, without risking it being split up by ads. I think that’s why it’s cheated over the fold this way. That said… the balloon placement in panel four is distracting.

AUD: Yeah, you can tell there’s all this space above Spider-Man’s head where the dialogue was supposed to go.

DAN: It really shoulda been there. If this were a digital comic, that would’ve been perfect. I does weirdly work quite well in panel seven…

AUD: Because they put dialogue there!

DAN: There you are, then. Even if Spidey had said “um” in panel four, just to full in that space, that would’ve been an easy fix.

AUD: So, okay, this is a big moment; but why is it a big moment? Peter’s already seen his powers. We already know that’s what Johnny does. Is it that he’s revealing his “Human Torch” name?

DAN: Well, It’s a big moment for Johnny. Again, this issue thinks Johnny is the main character. So it’s a big moment for him… Peter’s reaction is still genuine, it’s still surprising to see a person, y’know, light their hand on fire. And also, it’s the first time in this universe where The Human Torch and Spider-Man are on the same page, so there’s a little bit of a fan nod there, plus a little bit of this being Johnny’s moment to reveal himself to, he thinks, a new person. Some of it is just a nice juicy visual on which to hang the rest of the scene. The dialogue in this scene is great. I like the idea of this scene. Johnny’s life is actively inconvenienced by Spider-Man — the way his life is set up is a direct reaction to Spider-Man’s existence. But he likes Spider-Man a lot, so they’re being friendly.

AUD: I like… I think I have a thing against power imbalances. Like, Peter and Johnny are on the same level, but with this scene, it’s like hero worship. Johnny’s like a fanboy, and Peter just allows that imbalance to continue. That’s a personal thing, I just don’t like it — except that at the end of the scene, it switches, where Peter becomes the fanboy for Sue Storm. So I did like that.

DAN: Yeah! You see it in panel five, which is where Peter and Johnny actually become friends, but it’s also where you see Peter changing the subject of him being rich, trying to protect the idea of him being rich — read, “cool.” But here in panel seven, he can’t help but reveal he’s not cool, because he’s such a big fan of Sue Storm.

AUD: I will say, throughout a lot of these scenes of pure dialogue — again, this is just a personal preference — you get these panels where there’s so much back and forth in the same panel, and I don’t like it. I like it when you get more of a focus on what the characters look like when they’re saying each individual line, so there’s more emotional hit to it. Here it’s all consolidated, so you don’t get as much personality from the characters.

DAN: Would you’ve liked if this comic had, let’s say, five more pages to it that just allowed a little more space for the back and forth between the characters?

AUD: Well, either prune down the dialogue, or… yeah, extend it, give the artist more room. But then again, I don’t know if Bagley would’ve really wanted more room — he doesn’t really seem to enjoy drawing these still dialogue moments.

DAN: Or maybe at this point he’s so used to them that he just kinda bangs ‘em out without thinking too hard. Which we could hardly fault him for.

AUD: Yeah! Issue… sixty-nine of a series?

DAN: Jeezy Petes. I don’t know if I already said something nice about JD Smith, but the colors are real swell here. The glow on Spidey’s chest in panel one.

AUD: One detail I really like is that his coat is actually on fire in panel two.

DAN: Oh yeah! That is a nice little touch. And now, this is an excellent final panel; an onomatopoeia leading off the page, they’re both looking in the same direction, off the page, towards the page turn, you gotta turn the page, you gotta know what’s gonna happen next…

PAGE FIFTEEN

DAN: I love this page.

AUD: Rrrrrreally.

DAN: I do! I do, and I’ll tell you why: It does the handoff of POV from character to character really effectively. So, this page is split into two equal circuits of storytelling. They have roughly the same layout; the first one is Spidey vaulting off — the webline’s going off the page in the right direction, he’s going off the panel into the negative space, it’s really dynamic. This is where Bagley’s ‘everything comes towards you’ thing really works. And then we end on Johnny’s reaction to this, which then transitions into the second circuit; this nice juicy Human Torch moment that mirrors Spider-Man’s. There’s a little joke, and then we stay on Johnny’s reaction in the last panel, a reaction that follows through from his other reactions on the page. So it’s a really effective handoff. And then, from the perspective of somebody who’s maybe meeting these characters for the first time, it’s cool to see how Spider-Man has to jump off the jungle gym and shoot a web and, y’know, he moves in THIS way, and meanwhile Human Torch can just straight up fly, he’s made of fire, he moves in THIS way… I mean, I could see experiencing this for the first time and really getting excited for these characters, the way they’re depicted on this page. What do you think?

AUD: That’s interesting, because I really disliked this page.

DAN: Ooh, tell me! Tell me why.

AUD: Well… I guess one of the things I’m personally most concerned about is the way the lines of action move within the structure of a single page. Not just the way that the characters are moving, but all of the composition. This page feels really cluttered to me; there’s all these different directions, and there’s so many different moments happening too, and none of them are given enough space.

DAN: In a way, I think you’re sort of right… what makes this page work for me is that there’s the two complete circuits, but a page is typically only supposed to be one.

AUD: What you said about Spider-Man having to climb off the jungle gym — I didn’t even realize that that’s what had happened there because there’s such a gap. I want to see him moving onto the jungle gym. In the first panel, I want more of a pause as they look at the smoke. I would’ve preferred smaller bits of them both going off.

DAN: Maybe we coulda cut down on some money shot panels and reallocated that space to give these two moments bigger moments on their own pages. I still really like this page, but I totally agree with your criticisms.

AUD: I also feel like that last panel should have maybe been the back of Johnny’s head, so we’re following him as he’s going somewhere? As it is, it’s just a static image of his face.

DAN: Mmm, yeah, I could see that.

PAGE SIXTEEN

AUD: It’s beautifully drawn. I really like the swoop of the smoke.

DAN: Yeah, Bagley’s smoke is really cool; all whispy and tendrily. It is a little bit weird to me that Spidey’s swinging left, into the page fold. I would rather have flipped Spidey’s figure so he’s facing right, maybe just jumping down with her in his arms, or with his web attached to the roof ledge. There’s some nice contrasting movement between Spidey and the smoke, but it’s still a little muddy to me.

AUD: Once more, who’s the main character on this page? You actually think it should be Johnny this time, carrying over from the last page.

DAN: Also: modern comics artists have finally stopped drawing that high-riding underwear on women, which I personally appreciate. Nobody liked that.

AUD: That was also never, like, a real thing that happened, even in the early 2000s.

DAN: This is a type of page layout I like a lot; you’ve got a tall, scene-setting panel, and then everything that follows is sort of a detail of that main setting. Panel two is nice; we’re clearly from Johnny’s perspective, looking down…

AUD: Except that time, it shouldn’t be! It should be focusing on Spider-Man!

DAN: Crap, you’re right! You’re totally right. The perspectives in panels one and two should be switched. We should be on the ground with Spider-Man and her looking up in panel two, and we should be with Johnny looking down on the scene in panel one.

PAGE SEVENTEEN

[Long, thoughtful shared pause]

DAN: Nice line of motion along those bottom panels… I hate this baby. I’m sorry.

AUD: That’s not a terrified baby! That’s a hungry baby opening its mouth for food.

DAN: I dunno, maybe she’s got a Spider-Man-colored bottle or something, so when he comes in the room she’s like, “oh thank god, I’m parched.”

AUD: I also don’t think panel four is entirely clear enough about what Johnny’s doing.

DAN: What if this panel were framed by the window? So we could see the fire going away from us, from inside the building, and towards Johnny.

AUD: Oh, that would be clever…

DAN: And then we can skew panel five just a little bit so it’s not just the same shot twice. Panel six is a really good panel.

AUD: It is a really good panel, yeah. Unfortunately, it is followed by a weird baby.

DAN: Oy. Such a weird baby.

PAGE EIGHTEEN

AUD: Panel one immediately gave me the feeling that it should be flipped. The direction of motion — it doesn’t look like he’s jumping out of the building.

DAN: He’s just coming down from heaven with a baby.

AUD: That’s what this looks like. Also, it would have helped a whole lot of his suit was singed.

DAN: Or if smoke was trailing off him, yeah.

AUD: In panel two, why are we looking at this from the very above again? Do it from Peter’s point of view! Actually, wait — if you move panel four up next to panel one…

DAN: Oh, yeah, that’d work. Because the Torch panels don’t tell us… much. And Bagley and company have my sympathies here, because showing a contiguous stream of flame coming out of the building and towards Johnny? I don’t know how I would show that.

AUD: I think the flames themselves are fine, but the swoop of the smoke around the border of panel two gets me.

DAN: This is an instance where the old Marvel style of captions talking about what’s happening would really help you out.

AUD: I mean, you need to be really careful with captions… actually if he were muttering something…

DAN: Oh yeah! Like, “Oh my god, he’s drawing the flame out of the building” or something.

AUD: Yeah! Yeah, that would work.

DAN: Or a panel where the babysitter like “What’s going on” and Peter’s like “I-I-I-I think he’s drawing the flame out of the building” and she’s like “How is he doing that” and he’s like “[weird noise plus awkward shrug]”

AUD: See, and that would have been awesome, just to add more personality and some nice moments between Peter and the crowd.

DAN: I mean, sure, he’s amazed at the Torch in panel four, but this would really sell the — well, anyway.

PAGE NINETEEN

AUD: We've talked about unfortunate ad placements before; I’d just like to point out that those are DC characters in a Marvel comic.

DAN: Right as things seem at their most dire — Batman and Superman pop up!

AUD: Come to save the day!

DAN: We got this, guys, don’t even worry about it. So, this page: I understand what’s happening here, but I wouldn’t if I hadn’t read a bunch of other comic books.

AUD: …Yes, because there’s not a sense of him getting rid of anything, it’s more like he’s channeling the energy to blow something up.

DAN: Yeah. That said, I like the sweeping top left/bottom right motion of the clouds, which adds a nice parallax to the bottom left/top right motion of the flames. And at least there, it’s popping off the the page, away from us.

AUD: And up where people are looking.

DAN: Yes! They’re following the line of action. That’s quite good.

AUD: And the colors on this panel are beautiful.

DAN: They really are. JD Smith clearly knows how to bring out the warmth and energy of the flame with these nice cool background colors. I have no idea why the cough was lettered like that —

AUD: I thought it was hilarious. It was for comedy, right, ‘cause he’s actually saying “cough?”

DAN: Oh! [Laughs]

AUD: At least that’s how I interpreted it, as a humor beat.

DAN: But then as we go on, we see that he’s actually coughing ‘cause of smoke inhalation.

AUD: Is he?

DAN: Here, put a pin in that, we’ll come back to that. That’s mostly a nitpick on what is overall a very strong page.

PAGE TWENTY

AUD: What the…?

DAN: What is happening in this first panel?

AUD: I think that’s Johnny flying off.

DAN: Oh!

AUD: To the park, to meet him again?

DAN: Yes.

AUD: But.

DAN: Maybe Johnny could have been smoldering there a little, in panel two?

AUD: You could have just not had panel one and have them just meet up again in the park.

DAN: Again, my sympathies to Bagley, because this flame stuff is… it doesn’t exist in the real world, so he’s gotta hack it out.

AUD: I do love the trails of the smoke in panel one. And that looks like a fucked up building.

DAN: Although! I think the colorist let us down a little there. This flamey bit coming out of the building should be smoke. It shouldn’t still be on fire.

AUD: That’s… definitely true! So: who’s the main character in this scene?

DAN: On this page, it seems like they’re both the main character. And after the scene we just had, I’m cool with them being equally important on this page.

AUD: Yeah. The jump between here and the next page wasn’t clear to me, though.

DAN: No. I mean, it’s a funny bit! I get it. But.

AUD: The ending on his face at the end of the page just didn’t hit right. I do like that body movement in panel three.

DAN: Again, when Bagley chooses to do acting, he does a really good job.

PAGE TWENTY ONE

DAN: Okay, so here’s where the downward angle really works. Again, I would have liked to have a little flame coming off him in panel two to show the transition from Torch to normal. Overall, I like this scene a lot. Like, Johnny having to lose his jacket is a nice narrative device to show the sacrifice of heroism.

AUD: Plus a metaphor of the police getting him. I will say that in all the comments about the acting, all of it was passable — except for panel four.

DAN: Really! Why?

AUD: Just bad acting!

DAN: You just think it’s, what, cheesy?

AUD: It’s cheesy and it does the soap opera thing.

DAN: Ah, fair enough. The script description, I assume was “Johnny lets the moment land, feels proud of himself.” Tough to pull off. But I hear ya.

AUD: And also he’s facing…

DAN: Yeah, have him face the other direction. Although, I do kind of like him looking off, taking this moment to himself —

AUD: But that’s part of what bugs me the most! Like, look at panel three — they’re not looking at each other. They don’t seem to be in the same interaction.

DAN: I think this page is a good example of problems with placing figures in space that Bagley has throughout.

AUD: Especially scenes that are just dialogue.

DAN: The scene were MJ and Peter are talking to Johnny in the parking lot earlier is helped because Johnny’s leaning against a landmark; his car. But when they’re a little more free form like this, the figures start to drift around.

AUD: I love that last panel.

DAN: It’s a great panel. I love the lighting on Spidey.

AUD: Johnny’s… beautiful?

DAN: [Laughs] He’s very pretty.

PAGE TWENTY TWO

DAN: Final page.

AUD: Another money shot of him! How many are in this fucking issue!

DAN: [Sighs.] I guess if I were choosing to defend this, I would say the initial money shot on page one —

AUD: Was fine.

DAN: Yes, it sells the chaos and the fear of what’s happening. This next one on page three —

AUD: Nope.

DAN: — if I wanted to defend it, I would say that was, like, Johnny flying off into the sky like Frankenstein’s Monster, and then this last one is him flying into the sky like a hero. It’s a progression.

AUD: [Snort.]

DAN: Your milage may vary. More great sweeping motion of the clouds that create a contrast to him flying away at us —

AUD: Another example of things flying out of the page.

DAN: This is just a personal thing, but I would have broken the panel boarders here at the top and had his hands reach out into the bleed.

AUD: Yeah, if he’s gonna do the big moment where he comes out towards you, have him come out towards you!

DAN: And panel two is a funny final beat that undercuts this big heroic moment with Peter coughing — that’s solid. The birds are bit much.

AUD: The buildings are nice, though. He draws nice buildings!

DAN: He does! He’s really good at drawing this comic. Mark Bagley, shocker, is a really good guy to be drawing a Spider-Man comic. He’s good at buildings, he’s good at dynamic action — he is good at acting. I think in this issue, we just see him being a little bit on auto pilot. There’s not a lot we can say is really wrong with this issue.

AUD: Yeah, if I picked it up I would happily read it. The structural elements of it were perfectly passable.

DAN: Yeah! It’s well-written. It keeps moving. And the final action set piece is a nice way to get them to team up and learn about each other, but only be interacting with each other; they don’t have to fight anybody. Y’know, Paste Pot Pete doesn’t show up and they have to team up against him.

AUD: This is the exact kind of comic I would love to have drawn! Yeah. It’s good. Well written. Very well written.

DAN: You could be a hell of a lot worse.

***

You can buy a copy of this issue on Comixology, along with every other issue of ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN.

You can also pick up Aud Koch’s Marvel Comics debut, last week’s ULTIMATES 2 #7, written by Al Ewing with colors by Dan Brown -- which I highly recommend.

Check out Aud’s website, and hit her up on twitter! She’s always posting new art -- including some Spidey and Torch stuff that gives you an idea what this comic might’ve looked like if Aud had ghosted Bagley.

As always, feel free to check me on any mistakes I/we might have made, add your own commentary, or share similar examples of good comics done well. I’ll be back next week with a different comic to peruse.

Be well!

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THE SHADOW STRIKES! #13

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#Ultimate Spider-Man #Aud Koch #Comics #Educational Purposes #Brian Michael Bendis #mark bagley #Marvel Comics #The Human Torch #Spider-Man

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nukaworld · 8 years ago

Note

Character thing: Ulysses!

send me a character & I’ll answer the following about them!

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would banghogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuffbest quality: that he is obviously well read, likes history, saved local lesbian Christine Royce and was nice to her, generally can be made to see the err in his ways, doesn’t take shit from the white legs, understands that each faction is flawed and that none of them are a good future for the Mojave, and I think Ulysses is a good person, like sure he does things that are good but overall I don’t think he is evil or bad.worst quality: he is kind of mean sometimes, I mean I understand but he can tone down the edginess a little. Also he is a hypocrite and this is not the worst quality but he sometimes loses himself a little in his own ideologies. ship them with: Ulysses/Courier 6 is a blessed ship and I love everyone who ships their Courier with him, thank you......brotp them with: Christine! needs to stay away from: Vulpes, honestly I wish I learned that Vulpes killed his tribe so I can gut him back at Nipton, but don’t worry I am here and I am ready, my character has strong muscles and she is waiting for you.misc. thoughts: I really love Ulysses like I think his story overall is very interesting and he fills in a lot of worldbuilding info and some of his speeches, mostly about the factions and the tribes, are really on point. I haven’t played the DLC so I can’t say more I’m afraid but I sometimes get really confused about his motivations. He is still a really good character and I love him.

#mojavejourneys

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radioactive-park · 4 years ago

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Gregory ??? (Of Yardale) Application

IN CHARACTER:

Name: Gregory ??? (Of Yardale) - Something in headcanons’ll explain why it’s ??? rather than an actual surname Age: 23 years old Gender (pronouns): Cis male, he/him Sexuality: Panromantic demisexual Occupation/Role: Bounty hunter, but can also do some spy work for the right price. He is also up to track people/items down, if required. Location/Faction: New South Park, but often goes to Centennial City for work Personality: While he appears awfully confident (and in some cases arrogant), Gregory lacks social skills in some departments. This can make him seem impolite or rude to some, even when he means well. Despite having a lot of patience, he is also quite stubborn and ambitious, and will thus not hesitate to argue about what he strongly believes in. He isn’t afraid to get is hands dirty if the reward from it is decent, but don’t expect him to go strangle some innocent fool for calling you ugly.

When it comes to bounties, he is a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ type, unless the target has information that could be considered useful. Then it is a ’ask first, shoot, then ask again’ situation. This has caused him problems in the past, especially when the bounty specifically states to bring the target back alive. He is quite smart, and knows how to lie his way out of a lot of situations. He has also learned to not fear death, as 'fearing death’ isn’t a trait someone in his line of work should have. Especially not when living in a world where every day is a game of ’Will I get shot or stabbed by a stranger today?’.

If he has the time of day, he can be quite caring towards others. If not busy with work or getting ready to head off to do work, he’s up to help with most problems. No matter how big or small. Bio (Note - I may have gone a bit overboard with the bio. I apologise): Gregory is your typical wastelander. Brought into this world in some small, rundown town on whatever’s left of the coast of New California, with only luck keeping him alive long enough to be here now.

His parents were alright people, according to him. His mother, who he saw as the sweetest person alive, struggled with a bit of a gambling addiction, which was unfortunate, but she was getting help from a Followers of the apocalypse member who also lived in town. His dad wanted to become a boxing champion, like the ones read about in old, pre-war magazines. It’s what kept conversations at the dinner table interesting.

He was taught to read and write, properly shoot and defend himself, to track and hunt, even a little bit of first aid. All things that would prove useful when he would one day go out on his own. From what his parents told him, he was almost afraid of that - Going out on his own and into the world one day. The world was a scary place, full of dangers that could end his life in mere seconds if it didn’t torture him first. He hated even thinking about it. So, to take his mind off of it, he spent his days learning about various types of guns - How they worked, what ammo they took, what they were used for. It was a hobby of his he spent quite some time on when he wasn’t being taught certain skills, playing with the other kids in town or doing some errands for his parents.

This was until he turned 19.

A few months into 2276, he woke up to his dad telling him to gather his things as quickly as possible. Gregory thought that the town was under attack or that there were threats of some destructive storm coming. Why else would his father act the way he did? Out on the road to what seemed like nowhere, his mom explained to him that there wasn’t a threat of any kind. They were on their way to New Reno for 'New beginnings in the biggest little town in the world’. When his dad went for a drink at the town’s pub, he met and spoke to a courier that supposedly went through there for a delivery. When the courier talked about the town, everything it has and the current situation, his dad only heard partially between the ruckus going on in the pub - Talk of big casinos, working phones, the place Jet originates from and of course, the Jungle gym, a gym and boxing ring. He also spoke of 'a lot of fights’ and it was assumed that it was referring to the ring, when in reality it was not the case. New Reno might have it’s wonderous casinos and 'escorts’ as far as the eye an see, but it was also known for the violent fights and rivalries between the owners of the casinos. Anyone who wished to live there would have to join one of the 'crime families’ to survive or face the consequences. Neither Greg nor his parents knew this, of course. To them, this would be a town of opportunity, much more than the other town ever was. It felt like history was repeating itself once more. His father spent most of the day at the Jungle gym, and sometimes he would join him there to train - to be strong, flexible, fit - even when he was sure that the place was rigged to hell in favor of long-time participants against newbies. His mother spent most of her day at casinos. She said that she was over her addiction, and that it was purely to keep herself busy. That she could stop any time she wanted to easily. Gregory was thus by himself most of his days, again. Difference was, rather than playing with the other town kids, he did small, random jobs around town. From delivering mail, to convincing people to buy certain guns at New Reno Arms, to stripping cars for parts at the Chop shop. It wasn’t what he expected he would do, but he was getting paid so that’s what mattered most. One day, while out and about on a job for the pharmacy (mostly just taking a few people their medicine and drugs), he got caught up in a shootout between the Wrights and to his surprise, the Bishops. He did not want to get involved, but when his mother was dragged out of Shark club casino by one of the Wright goons, it got personal. No hesitation, no regret, no second thoughts. A clear shot from a distance ended the shootout right there. A mysterious man, who watched it all go down from the shadows, approached Gregory afterwards. He told him that he would make a perfect bounty hunter type, and that he had been looking for an apprentice for a long time. He asked him if he would work for him, and while slightly hesitant at first to trust this sketchy man, Greg eventually agreed. His parents, however (even if his mother was thankful that her son saved her life), did not. They wanted him to make a name for himself without getting killed by some lowlife in the process. Did he listen? Of course not. While his parents were out doing their thing, he went to do some work for the mysterious man. It started off with some easy, typical raider types that needed to vanish, but eventually got to the point where he had to sneak around and do quick stealth kills. This was better than any other job he took before, and definitely paid better. The year Gregory turned 22, fights started breaking out more and more between his parents for a variety of reasons, most including drug addictions or getting frisky with casino escorts. By now, he was officially considered a bounty hunter, with some tracking and spy work included. He complained to the mysterious man, his boss, about how his parents were driving him mad with their fights and that lead to him offering Greg two jobs, both a way out of New Reno. He explained that it was no surprise. It’s what happened to a lot of people, if they didn’t get shot on the first day in the casino families’ gun fights or addicted to Jet within the first week. His choices were to either go after a big, long time bounty that lead to Vegas, and where he would then work under a man with the surname Richter. Alternatively, a different bounty - A Legionary, or to be more specific, a Veteran decanus, that had fled to Colorado after a battle with the NCR in a place called Raven’s ravine went sour. If going after this particular bounty, he would be an independent bounty hunter, only working for himself and nobody else. Gregory, knowing some of the stories regarding the Mojave, decided that he would rather take the longer road and head to the last known sighting of the other target - near a small settlement by the name of New South Park.

Finally having a use for the small bit of money he’d been saving from his various jobs,he geared up and got supplies to last him a while, and left Reno for New South Park. Not a word said to either of his parents. They probably wouldn’t even have noticed that he’s gone. This was a year ago. He has been living in the small, but homey New South Park for about a year now. He often goes out to Centennial City in search of bounties, people needing someone to track down a long lost family member or item they had lost on their travels. If not, he spends his time helping around NSP where he can. Headcanons: - He knows his way around a lot of guns, but not all of them - only the more common ones, and how to use them. He will die figuratively when handed some sort of plasma/laser weapon, because he does not know how to properly use it. - Has an alright singing voice. It’s not surprising to hear him singing to himself sometimes. - He can take a few punches if he has to. - He has decent tracking skills, thanks to his bounty hunting work. - Every time someone asks him his surname, he gives a different answer. He claims it is to prevent the “'friends”’ of targets looking him up and coming after him. It is also because he does not want to be associated with his parents (through the surname). So one day he might say that his surname is 'Walker’, and another he might say it’s 'Anderson’ or 'Jackson’ or whatever he comes up with at the time. - Has very basic first aid knowledge - Cleaning and bandaging wounds, as well as dealing with bullet wounds. - Carries an old rusted cutlass with him. A trophy off his first ever bounty. He says that he would rather carry it around and use it than to place it somewhere only for it to be stolen. - Always carries a knife, typically in his boot, for emergency purposes. - He smokes, but seldom. Would not say no if offered a cigarette, however. - Says that the reason he only does spy work 'for the right price’ is because he risks his life more than when he’s going after bounties. - He has some scars from various places - The most notable a burn scar on his left arm/hand from an incident involving a flamethrower type weapon.

#application #submission #accepted #south park #south park rp

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