#damn you dc for giving them the same haircut

[yeetdeeznuts]

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The Three Caballeros Ride Again Review!: And Ladies (Ride of the Three Caballeros)

Saludos Amigos! I’m back with yet another comics review! And we’re back on The Ride of the Three Cablleros! Thanks again to WeirdKev27 for commissioning this retrospective. It’s going to get pricey and I greatly appreciate it.  PREVIOUSLY ON RIDE OF THE THREE CABLLEROS 

In short.. a bunch of short segments of varying quality, a very thirsty Donald hitting on ladies, the first appearance of Panchito and some very good music. A fun time was had by all. Along with a LOT OF drugs by the Disney Animators. The film wasn’t a huge success, but out of the 6 package films, it was a fan faviorite alongside the Mr. Toad and Ichabod movie, and thus was rereleased quite a bit, as well as being one of the first of this era to end up on VHS due to it’s cult popularity.  As for Panchito and Jose they’d get plenty of success overseas, with both getting solo series in their respective home countries, Jose himself having just resumed having comics again this year, and being rightfully massive characters. But despite being a hit with fans across the world.. in the US... they were pretty much shoved in the Disney Vault for a few decades. Jose would show up on the Wonderful World of Disney, in it’s various forms, three times after the Three Caballeros while Panchito just vanished aside from reuses of the Three Caballeros footage. Their careers in the US just sorta vanished for a few decades. But as suddenly as they vanished, our boys returned triumphantly. Naturally being the most used out of the duo, Jose would show up for the first time in decades during Mickey Mouseworks, a show full of new late 90′s produced Mickey Mouse shorts, all but two of which would end up being recycled for the much more popular and well loved House of Mouse, which would feature the triumphant return of the Cabs to animation after so long away. We’ll get to that next time, as just a year before the Cabs had already reunited in the pages of Walt Disney’s Comics and Stories in one of Don Rosa’s best loved tales. The Ride of The Three Caballeros was something Don Rosa had wanted to do since he got the job writing Duck Comics in the first place. As he explained in the back of the complete library edition named after this tale, Uncle Keno isn’t the biggest fan of the Donald Theatrical shorts. Having experienced the Carl Barks comics first, and having built his career around them later, he just wasn’t a fan of the goofier, angrier, less nuanced theatrical short Donald, often feeling like he was an entirely different character from the one he loved. And.. honestly he’s not wrong. Both were built for entirely different kinds of comedy: While both did slapstick, Slapstick, along with standard comedy shenanigans, was the main weapon in Shorts Donald’s comedic arsenal. Barksian Donald, while not immune to slapstick, was more like a well built sitcom character: Multi layered, sympathetic when he needs to be, but still having tons of faults to be exploited for laughs and to play off other characters. As a result while I like Donald in the shorts I do prefer Barks version of him, and the shorts Barks did are usually the best of both worlds, combining Donald’s everyman schtick with his slapstick schtick. Of course later cartoons would pick one or the other or combine both, but I do get his point and at the time he wrote this story the only cartoon show starring Donald was.. Quack Pack.. which I can only imagine his reaction to seeing that train wreck. 

But as you can probably guess there was one exception and it was The Three Caballeros. Don genuinely enjoys the beautiful music and the wonderful chemistry the three have. So after a trip to Mexico gave him the perfect setting and the fire in his belly to finally do it, he finally wrote the story. And since they weren’t Barksian characters and hadn’t had any other apperances in decade, Don also took a dive into their comics. Since Jose was more of a fancifial freeloader in his comics, Don decided to ignore this characterization and go with his own based on the film: A latin playboy and lounge singer. And i’m okay with him doing that, as unlike say with Marvel and DC when they destroy a character, Disney characters are both more fluid continuity wise and his is still rooted in a version of the character, and he’s fully accepting and apologetic that some fans hate him for this. Also for some damn reason they redesigned Jose at some point in his Brazil to look like this:

This is far from the dumbest comic book costume change i’ve seen, but it’s certainly one of the most lame, as his original outfit is dapper, stylish and fits the Brazilian version of him well. And it’s not like you CAN’T update the classic Disney characters with modern appearances. Quack Pack, which has somehow come up twice in this review, did so great with Donald and Daisy, giving them new clothes and a haircut in Daisy’s case but both still look great. Same with Goofy for Goof Troop who just wore a dad sweater and bow tie, which puts him in the small but significant club of “Bow Tie Wearing Characters who have defined my life” with Opus the Penguin and the 11th Doctor. You can update a classic character’s’s appearance without coming off like...

Which given Jose’s outfit there is horrifyingly similar, says something. Anyways, Rosa had more use for Panchito’s stories, which had him as a cowboy protecting small towns with the help of his trusty steed Senor Martinez. Rosa loved both aspects and thus used them here, with Martinez getting a makeover to fit Rosa’s style better. Rosa is also the one to popularize Panchito’s last name, having found it on a scrap of research, not realizing the character’s last name was not at all widespread and thus giving him a canon one that has stuck to this day, and sighing in relief when he finally got conformation from another fan this name was indeed something Disney had used after loosing his research scrap.  So with the two boys characters set, a plot set up and a whole sequence planned we’ll talk about on the way “The Three Caballeros Ride Again!” was born. How good is it? Well join me under the cut and i’ll tell you. 

We open in Mexico, specifically near the Barranca Del Cobre, aka The “Copper Canyon” of the Sierra Madre, a natural land formation simlar to the Grand Canyon that Don Rosa saw during his trip and thought would make a great setting. While larger than the Grand Canyon, Rosa figures in his notes it simply isn’t as popular because it’s more isolated than the Grand Canyon and that, combined with it having trees inside distracting from it’s rugged beauty, makes it much harder to build a tourist industry around. The four are headed to El Divisadero, because this comic is determined to kill me with it’s difficult to spell names apparently, where Huey, Dewey or Louie spouts off for no particular reason about the currently being built Chihuahua El Pacifico Railway. Seriously the boys might as well be the security guard from Wayne’s World in this comic, their role for most of their brief page time is just to set up stuff for later. I mean i’m fine with setting up your setting but there are better ways than just spouting off tons of exposition apropos of nothing. 

Donald has driven the boys here for a Woodchuck Jamboree. I did actually look into Jamborees, as before this it only had ever come up in one of my favorite movies of all time, Moonrise Kingdom, and mentioned occasionally in the Ducktales Reboot. Jamboree was first used for a worldwide scouting Jamboree but has gone on to mean a huge gathering of scouts, with the Boy Scouts of America having one every four years, so odds are it’s just a big yearly or quarter yearly thing for the woodchucks. Still it would be nice to see a big gathering like this in the series, especially since several of our cast are involved in them, including the possible power trio of Huey, Violet and Boyd, and Della and Launchpad could easily be slotted into the plot as seen in this season’s premiere.. as could Dewey and Louie if they really want to since according to Frank their members.. they just aren’t nearly as invested as their brother, and thus  don’t do Woodchuck stuff unless he drags them into it, as seen with “Day of the Only Child” in the series itself. It does make sense: Dewey doesn’t have the survival instinct or patience for camping, and Louie hates effort, the out doors, and doing things for anything but profit. Scouting is all of that.  So the boys have driven all this way for the Mexican Jamboree, as they’ve been carefully raising their tarantula Tara, and the Tarantula Breeding Badge is only given out in Mexico, which is plausible: Different branches of a worldwide organization would have different awards and what not in different countries. And Tarantula’s are also native to mexico so that makes sense.. and I want you to apricate that I’m afraid of spiders, not cartoony ones, for instance, this is adorable. 

Galvantula4Life. But real life ones or realistic looking ones? Yeah no fuck that. So I had to go to the Wikipedia entry and see several horrifying looking sizeable spiders for this one tiny fact. Your welcome. Tara ends up on Donald’s face with the boys assuming Donald is sad to see her go instead of you know FUCKING TERRIFIED A GIANT SPIDER IS ON HIS FACE. This gag does not work.. but probably because as I said i’m afraid of spiders and this is my nightmare, you little sociopaths. 

The boys however worry about what Donald will do for the weekend as they prepare to board the bus to the Jamboree... why it’s meeting in an out of the way town like this I have no idea, but i’d guess plot convince. They realize he has no friends, which Donald shrugs off, and they REALLY shouldn’t say to his face, but ruminate on it once he leaves to do whatever after vaguely talking about friends he had in the past. 

I like this scene even though it annoys me a bit: Ilike it because it does set up how Donald really DOSEN’T have any friends in the comics. It’s part of WHY Rosa was drawn to the Cabs: Their one of the few equal relationships donald’s ever had, people who treat him as a partner, in both sense probably, a friend, a true amigo. As the boys point out Scrooge is a monster to him in the comics, paying him 30 cents an hour which I actually put into an inflation calculator to get an accurate read on how little that was by 2020 standards.. and it’s 3 dollars an hour. Hence why I call him a monster, why that bit hasn’t aged well, and why Rosa REALLY, REALLY should’ve retired it. It dosen’t help reading that knowing Disney largely treated Rosa the same way is cringe inducing at best, if not for any fault of his own. It being cringe inducing for an employer horribly mistreating and underpaying his employees though is his fault, he’s a grown ass man, even in the 90′s this had to be a problem, be better. 

And yes i’m being hard on Don Rosa but just like with the comics thing, I simply expect better from the man given just how much respect I have for the guy. His art is gorgeous, his research is immaculate, his knowledge of old films is wonderful and his love for them so infectious i’m tempted to seek the ones he’s mentioned in notes out. He’s a truly wonderful guy and one of my faviorite comic writers.. but I have to treat him fairly like I do ANY of my idols. Just to prove that, I love Grant Morrison, especially his run on New X-Men, but a lot of it hasn’t aged well including some of the language and the entire subplot with Emma manipulating Scott into having an affair when he wasn’t in the best mental place and she knew that and was acting as his therapist, and treating that as a regular affair REALLY doesn’t play well nor should it have. I love Al Ewing, with all my heart and soul, but his run on Ultimates, while having some great worldbuilding and a spectacular cast, ultimately wasn’t very good after the first arc. Not terrible but not good. John Aliison, of Scary Go Round and Giant Days fame, while impressive has had plenty of stories I just didn’t like for various reasons and will probably get into some day and some parts of his stories haven’t aged well. It’s the hard but necessary part of being a critic: You have to be objective and see all the parts of a creator’s creation, not just the ones you like and call them out when they screw up. To me being a fan isn’t about just blindly loving something, it’s about knowing WHY you love it and being willing to call out faults while still thoroughly enjoying the work. There’s a fine line between being blindly loyal to someone, which has created Zach Snyder's awful cult of personality that I hate so much, and being an overly critical shithead and I hope I’m straddling that line. 

Back on the scene after that filibuster they point out Gladstone, who himself is a monster to me for how he doesn’t lift a finger to help his nephews or cousin, and constnatly flaunts his luck to Donald, and is a bit more than teasing especially since he tried to, you know, steal your house once boys. That’s canon.. that’s a barks story so it’s canon here. You.. You remember that right? He tried to steal your house. And we will be getting to that one next month, just you wait.  Finally the Daisy part that annoys me slightly. The boys being sexist.. was sadly the style at the time this story is set, the 1950′s, and thus plays better for me than it does in Ducktales, as their just little boys and don’t know better. Them assuming Girlfriends aren’t like having friends, while accurate though does bother me a bit, but only because the way this story treats Donald’s relationship is PRETTTTTYYYY bad and this sets that up. But we’ll get to that.  Thankfully this foreshadowing of terrors to come is quickly forgotten as we get a GENUINELY great two panels of Donald lamenting his lack of friends. It just works really well, selling his loneliness and how isolated he truly feels without any, which while I have friends I can relate to as I only really hang out with on regularly. 

This is what I was talking about. While I will point out Rosa’s flaws.. their truly outweighed but his artistic mastery. In just three panels he really has a truly emotional and heartrending scene, and just that one close up among them is all we need to get the true depths of Donald’s loneliness. I can be hard on the guy, but it’s because he’s one of the best there is, best there was, and best there ever will be and thus I hold him to a high standard.  But with that we transition to...

Or rather first his boss at the hotel, whose pissed his headliner has skipped out on him again to woo a lady, and while he plans to fire the guy, only isn’t throttling him because he figures one of his “Senorita’s” boyfriends will do that for him. And while I do like Jose as a playboy i’m not really fond of him trying to have sex with someone in a relationship, as it puts both him and the person he’s having an affair with in a really bad light. It does fit the character, I just don’t have to like it. As for this particular Senorita, it turns out her boyfriend is a notorious Bandito and is thankfully out of town. So yes, Jose is essentially acting out Come A Little Bit Closer by Jay and the Americans. 

Naturally just like the song, said Bad Man returns, Alfonso “Gold Hat” Bedoya, a machete wielding baddie who while understandably pissed about another man making time with his girlfriend, is less understandably about to murder Jose. Though unlike the song, Alfonso’s Lady, rather than help Jose, encourages her boyfriend to murder him and clearly has a fetish for cheating on her boyfriend with various men and watching as he kills him which.. Jesus. This is why while I don’t LIKE the idea of Jose hitting on women in a relationship it does work here, as he’s still not nearly as bad as either of these two, so it evens out. Jose escapes with his umbrella but crashes.. right into the back of Donald’s car. Rosa, Alfonso’s lady, encourages him to murder both of them for funsies, and being a brutal thug, Alfonso obliges and shoots at the car. And since, to quote the duck himself, Donald doesn’t like being killed “Even a little”, he books it out of there. 

Alfonso doesn’t peruse them though. He’s on the trail of a treasure hunter who has a map to the lost town of Tayopa, which contains untold silver, but before he can do that he has important buisness to get to. 

I fucking love that gag and that Rosa snuck more adult gags in there knowing plenty of Duck Fans, such as myself, are grown men, women and others who can handle this sort of thing, while still slippnig it past the kids. 

Donald, once the fear’s worn off a bit, starts to wonder WHY he’s running when he’s not the one who pissed off the guy, and ignores Jose’s good point about the fact Alfonso really dosen’t seem like a guy who sees nuance.. until Donald sees a wanted poster for Alphonoso and keeps driving. He eventually gets far enough away to feel safe.. and confront the guy who got him into this mess. 

Now kiss. While sadly, they do not, we do get a lovely warm reunion between old pals. Rosa keeps their past vauge as, correctly, he pointed out in his authors notes that the Cabs movie really had no plot, accurate, so instead just vaguely alluded to Donald having known the two in his pre-daisy and boys past and likely had similar adventures to the movie, but adapted more for Rosa’s barksian universe. Jose explains he often finds himself cash poor and thus hits the road to drum up some money, and Mexico is a great place for that as it has plenty of tourist money. 

Though as Jose talks about their past we get the most uncomfortable running gag of the story. 

While Donald’s paranoia here is played for laughs.. it just.. isn’t all that funny that Donald’s relationship with Daisy in the Rosa canon is apparently sooooo deeply unhealthy that just HEARING about him having a romantic past before him, as Rosa confirmed this was pre-daisy in his notes, causes Donald to panic and worry she actually somehow heard this. It just isn’t funny.. it speaks of MASSIVE relationship issues and some form of domestic abuse on Rosa!Daisy’s part. It’s stuff like this why there’s only a handful of Donsy relationships I like: Her treating him like shit is reduced to a punchline, instead of being used for character growth. It’s also why I’m deeply dreading covering “Legend of the Three Cablleros” at the end of this retrospective. I just don’t like when Disney media treats Daisy expecting too much of Donald or being hyper jealous of him as hilarious and while I take this more as the story not ageing well rather than barks fault, as since then Domestic Abuse against Males has become a more widely known and talked about issue, it still doesn’t’t make it plesant. It just makes this not entirely his fault. Just like it’s not Stan Lee’s fault this panel is both deeply hilarious and uses a now kinda racist term. 

I named an entire youtube channel after that.. we all have our regrets. I also bring it up since currently Harry’s become terrifying villain Kindred... and thus the current big bad of an entire Spider-Man run and the being hopefully bringing one more day into the light and hopefully leading to it’s undoing.. once had a goofy mustache he genuinely referred to a “Fu Manchu Face Fuzz” that for all we know he regrew under the mask. 

Donald fondly remembers the old days of being a badass adventuring team and decides, screw it, let’s go show that Gold Hatted Paloka whose boss.. but being Donald ends up driving them into The Copper Canyon instead. Our heroes end up lost in the canyon and , fitting for Donald get shot at. I can only imagine his thoughts right now. 

Their mysterious attacker threatens them.. before revealing himself to be Panchito, whose glad to see his friends having mistook them for Alfonso. Turns out HE’S the mysterious treasure hunter Alfonoso was after, to no one’s surprise. We get another deeply unfunny “Daisy’s only a thousand miles away gag” as the boys reminisce and get introduced to Panchito’s horse, Senior Martniez. He also tells the boy about his map.. but how he’s hit a snag as the lost town where the silver, from a silver mine.. is now buried under pounds of volcanic rock, a volcano having erupted. This is artistic license as Don Rosa admits there aren’t any known volcano’s in Mexico, but that they also still haven’t found that missing town, so this was his explanation.  All is not lost as Donald’s globetrotting with Scrooge meant he knows his history.. and thus spots an old mission which, at the time, were used by preists as cover for secret mines. Donald naturally bungles his way in and we get the much better running gag of the Cabs thinking Donald did something amazing when he really just wondered into slapstick. They end up down the shaft, with Jose deciding Donald can’t do all the work, and finding a secret entrance under a sanctum sanctorum.. a religious thing I have no idea what it ii s but is clearly where Dr. Strange got the name. Regardless they find some old kegs filled with pure silver. As Panchito puts it: 

And he did ideed. In a nice moment that shows off his character, Panchito has no hesitation for sharing the wealth: He wouldn’t of got this far without his friends, and he wont get the Silver cashed in without their help. He also fires off his guns in celebration.. forgetting their in a cave, a gag I genuinely like. 

After some off screen loading and hoisting, the boys are slowly on their way out of the canyon, with Donald’s Car and Senor Martinez pulling the cart with the silver together. With some downtime the three talk about what they’ll spend the money on. 

About what you’d expect. A big beautiful music venue

For Jose, and a nice ranch to retire at for Panchito. Both despite being wondering souls would love a simple place to call home, in their own personal styles. While they are BIG goals, their also likeable and understandable ones: Jose just wants to stop having to do all these tours and carouse and party and perform at home. Be his own boss, and live his own dreams instead of working for whoever will put up for him. Panchito just wants to retire from being a wondering hero to a peaceful life of farming, an honest reward he well earned. And Donald? 

This is easily one of my faviorite moment’s of Rosa’s, one that really cuts to comic donald’s character: Sure he can be lazy, a trickster, hot tempered, and overconfident.. it’s why we love him.. but at the end of the day he genuinely loves those boys and their his first prority and I can see why the reboot took that trait and made it his defining one. They may annoy and frustrate them and he may pull a switch on them, 50′s after all.. but he loves his boys and knows they’ll do great one day and despite his spendthrift ways when given big money.. their all he can think about. Sure Donald probably has his own personal dreams, but instead of going big and retiring he’d probably just take only a small sliver of that money to open a humble hot dog stand or something, so he could have something of his own to provide them, while still giving most of the money to their college. Scrooge is who we all want to be.. Donald is who we are at our core: Flawed people who just want to do our best. It’s why I love the guy so much.  The boys rest in the small town of El Divisadero, which like the town we started in is a real place, though both are much smaller, even as of 2000 when Rosa made his visit, so he had to embelish slightly. THey stop at a local watering hole only to find Alphonso. While Jose is naturally worried, Gold Hat has moved on to Panchito and wants to know why he’s here. However Donald thinking quickly says he’s part of their nightclub act, and we get a rousing version of the three cablleros, which when reading this I synched up to the song. I won’t put it here, as it’s too big for tumblr and it really works more as a whole, but needless to say, it’s the highlight of the comic. While Rosa did have doubts about putting a musical number in a comic, and it’s often trickey, he makes it work with the energy, vibrance and number of gags, that compensate for the music not being there. There’s tons of great gags, from Donald getting thrown out  window, to the stone faced crowd who only cheers when Alphonso ends the number by whacking the three with one of their own guitars.  Alphonso quickly realizes what’s goin on, finds the silver, and then hyjacks the train. The boys take off after him in the car, as Donald triumphantly states “The Three Cablleros Ride Again!”. The three head after Alphonzo, who finds them when trying to release the other cars to increase speed, and then shoots at them. It seems hopeless... until donald gets launched into the air, into a cactus then back into Alphonzo knocking his guns out in a great bit of slapstick. The Conductor, likely not knowing about the others or not carring, detaches the cars though, so our heroes and villian are now sent rocketing through the world’s most dangerous railway. Which, as you’d probably already figured out, is very real and what inspirited rosa to use this setting and thus indeed wind through dangerous mountainsides and over thin cliffs like a real life Donkey Kong Country level.  Eduardo still has his machete though and easily beats Jose’s umbrella, but some more Donald slapstick and him apologizing to daisy about the senioritis as he wishes her goodbye seriously GET SOME COUPLE’S COUNSELING IF THAT EXISTS IN THE 50′S. It puls his sombrero down over his head, and with jose’s umbrella top landing on it, carries him off where he ends up in a lazy asshole sheirff’s jail for a gag. The boys however continue going back.. and the railway is unfinished at this time in history and while they save the silver, their fucked. But Donald has a plan, running to the back of the cars to get his car, and while it has trouble starting, Panchito throws some chilie’s in the tank to get it moving again.  The boys find the silver.. but when one barrel spills they find out it’s not actual liquid silver.. but quicksilver, which was used for silver refinment. So while i’ts shiny, and toxic so of course Jose sticks his hand in before knowing what it is, it’s worthless. Probably. The boys.. all have a nice laugh over it. I love this moment. Sure the boys lost their dreams.. but like Scrooge, the three belivie theirs always another rainbow. What matters is the journey they had and the reunion that restored their friendship. Donald also muses the boys are smart enough to get their own scholarships anyway, so it’s no big loss.. but he does have to get back to Disvadero as the jamboree ends tonight and Jose agrees as he now needs a job again. The owner balks, understandably since Jose missed a performance to get laid and then disappeared overnight.. but the Hotel Owner is visiting so as long as he can provide a big act he’s good, and while Jose is worried as he already gave them his best, the boys naturally pitch in to be the cablleros once more. After all

So we close on Huey, Dewey and Louie returning, still worrying about donald, when they find him on stage. We then end on a truly heartwarming and great last few panels. 

Final Thoughts: What else can I say? This story is beautifully drawn, as usual for Rosa, well paced, fun and really fleshes the Cabs out from the movie. It has a warm, fun adventurous tone and it’s nice to see Donald in the lead since Rosa usually did Scrooge stories and thus Donald was the justifiably surly sidekick instead of the main man> here he’s in the spotlight and gets to show just what he’s made of, while still being the hilarious mess we all know and love. The story honors the original film well, while forging it’s own path and is beautifully built into history. My only real complaints are the nephews being annoying, Alphonso’s somewhat overwrought accent, and of course the daisy gags.. but it’s all HEAVILY outweighed by one of Rosa’s finest hours and easy enough to ignore. Check this out if you can. It’s a classic for a reason. 

If you liked this review, you can commission your own by messaging me on here or at my discord technicolormuk#655 for five dollars a comic story or animation episode. Whenever the ride resumes next, we’ll coming on down to the house of mouse to see the boys return to the screen. In the meantime keep an eye on this space for regular Ducktales reviews every Monday, including once this run ends as I intend to start playing catchup, loud house reviews whenever, my tom retrospective that’s returning soon, and my retrospective on the Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck, with chapter 2 of that also coming soon. Until then, there’s always another rainbow. 

[thebibliomancer]

50 More Days of Comics! 43/50: Justice League Europe #19 (1990)

More Justice League Europe!

But, wuh? You may ask, if you’re invested in the minutiae of my mystery box. Didn’t you say the box was roughly sectioned and didn’t you already get through the DC section?

Yes. Yes I did.

But somehow I skipped three comics? I was counting up how many comics I had left and found it didn’t add up to 50 so went through the box and found that I couldn’t find posts for three comics. I know I wrote them up. I found them in my email. But I can’t find the posts. So I’ll have a very easy three days of 50 More Days of Comics by posting them.

So yes. More Justice League Europe!

This time following in the finest of comic book traditions: thinly veiled knockoffs of the competitor’s IP.

Marvel is more known for this because they get a lot of coverage out of their thinly veiled knockoffs. The Squadron Supreme (basically the Justice League) have become an important part of Avengers lore and even have their own well-regarded miniseries that is basically every Batman v Superman ever. And the League of Super-Heroes homage in the Shi’ar Imperial Guard has become a huge part of Cosmic Marvel and X-Men lore.

DC is no stranger to this either. It just doesn’t get folded into the lore quite the same way. A group of very Fantastic Four esque astronauts were mutated by cosmic radiation and then died, except for the faux Reed Richards who later becomes Cyborg Superman.

And as the Avengers fought the Squadron Supreme, so the Justice League fought the Champions of Angor with expies of Scarlet Witch in Silver Sorceress, Yellowjacket in Blue Jay, and Thor in Wandjina.

These Notvengers were from an alien world destroyed in nuclear holocaust by the Extremists, themselves expies of prominent Marvel villains.

Lord Havok for Doctor Doom, Dreamslayer for Dormammu, Gorgon for Doctor Octopus, Tracer for Sabretooth, and Doctor Diehard for Magneto.

You may recognize that these people have never been on a team together because it would be massive overkill and also there’d be so much clash of ego and personality and goals that they wouldn’t get one foot out the door before they all simultaneously backstabbed each other.

I give you all this exposition because this issue of Justice League Europe concerns the Extremists, or robot theme park versions of them, and also the two surviving Champions of Angor who have after a long time in the woods, either literal or metaphorical, found their way back to a Justice League book and have joined the team this time.

Fair is fair though. One of the many Hyperions (basically Superman) flapping around the Marvel U joined the Avengers for a while. And a Nighthawk (basically Batman) was on the Defenders for a whiiiile.

In previous issues, the Extremists have come to the Earth-1 and had Doctor Diehard/Magneto steal all the nuclear warheads in the world and threaten to detonate them. Due to reasons, most of the Justice League Europe end up on Angor where they find a broken down amusement park and a man cryogenically frozen?

To summarize down a bit: this is Uncle Mitch Wacky, a spoof on Disney, who had himself cryogenically frozen when he came down with an incurable disease. INFLUENZA!

This is a bafflement to Crimson Fox because on Earth influenza is well treatable but Uncle Mitch cuts her off before she can explain this.

Oh. So Crimson Fox is a later recruit to the team. She’s secretly two people and has pheromone powers because those are always anything but sketchy. She’s also exceptionally French. And is neither crimson nor wearing a very fox like costume.

Also here is the aforementioned Silver Sorceress who helpfully gives worldbuilding exposition about Angor. Also also, the Champions of Angor are apparently also known as the Assemblers?

Back on Earth, Martian Manhunter and Maxwell Lord discuss the UN unanimously agreeing to turn the world over to the Extremists because the alternative is nuclear annihilation. Its to buy time for the heroes to figure something out and in hopes that the Extremists are playing by their own rules and won’t just keep the missiles hanging overhead.

Back on Angor, they saved Carny’s brain. Or decapitated robo-head. Carny (apparently an expy of Arcade insofar as dangerous theme parks go) explains some more exposition.

After Uncle Mitch put himself on ice, the incredibly advanced robots of the park kept things running in hopes that Mitch would return to them as he promised. Very messianic King Arthur king under the mountain type feel.

So they even kept the park running smoothly during the nuclear annihilation of all life because dangit, that’s what Uncle Mitch would have wanted. Even when it became clear that there would be no more visitors because everybody dead.

They decided that they’d recreate the world inside the park. So they made a ride that would feature the Assemblers and Extremists and made them able to think and act on their own.

But whoopsie the Extremist robots killed the Assemblers robots and took over the park. Carny joined them because “it seemed like the happy, wacky thing to do.”

The robo-Extremists got restless, craving new worlds to conquer and eventually ditched Carny and the park for Earth.

At this point, Captain Atom (thankfully sporting a short haircut instead of a mullet despite it being the 90s now) has an idea.

Elseworld, the UN surrenders the world to the Extremists. So Doctor Diehard puts the nukes down in their silos thankful that he doesn’t have to be constantly focusing on that! But he can still detonate them in their silos so, y’know, don’t mess.

On Angor, Wacky Mitch reveals that he has a universal shutdown switch to his robots keyed to his neurological impulses. So now they have a trump card against the Extremists if they can only get back to Earth.

‘Oh hey I can totally get us back to Earth,’ says Silver Sorceress at this time. And she transports them back to Earth right in front of Blue Jay just when he’s being a pessimistic ass and driving Sue to distraction.

Mitch’s influenza hits him hard and he collapses, Captain Atom calling for super cool doctor Dr Light. No, not that one. The good one.

A quick time skip and Mitch is back on his feet and pumped full of antiobiotics. He’s not cured, obviously. He needs bed rest and an IV but he should be able to participate in a battle for the fate of the Earth as long as it doesn’t take too long.

Later, the Extremists base and they’re sitting around enjoying ruling the world but not really doing any ruling. Just snacking on some donuts, really. Pretty life like these theme park robots. Lord Havok considers that this was all too easy maybe but he doesn’t get much chance to muse on it because the ceiling suddenly explodes.

The Justice League Europe flies in and starts beating them up with specific focus on keeping Doctor Diehard confused and off-balance so he can’t use his powers to destroy the world.

The fighting is just time filler until Mitch Wacky can appear dramatically on a sand dune.

Uncle Mitch Wacky: “Hello, Tracer. Are you having a wacky day?”

The Extremists all instantly fixate on him and kneel in the sand before their creator-god.

Lord Havok: “Speak to us, Uncle Mitch! Are we wacky enough for you? Are we happy enough for you?”

Uncle Mitch: Uncle Mitch knows when you’ve been naughty and nice… and you, my boys… you have been very, very naughty!”

And all the Extremists switch off and collapse to the ground.

Y’know, I know they were going to destroy the world but they were really slaves to their programming. They were created to imitate the Extremists and the Extremists were world destroying monsters. In their robot hearts, they were fulfilling their purpose to make the creator-god-on-ice proud of them. The moral of the story is that the three laws of robotics exist for a damn reason. And maybe program your supervillain robots to be more wacky silver age stealing 40 cakes and less explode every nuke, hm?

Oh and then Uncle Mitch explodes.

Turns out that Dreamslayer (Dormammu) wasn’t a robot like the others. He’s the real deal. And he was trapped for five years in the Dimension of Terrors when the Extremists (the real ones) nuked Angor. By the time he got free he discovered that there was nothing left to terrorize and nothing to amuse him. So he hooked up with the Extremists robots to find a new world to conquer.

But now that the Justice League has ruined the fun game he was having hanging out with robots of his dead friends, now he’s just going to kill them all because this isn’t fun anymore.

Some legit cool visuals here. Bart Sears, Randy Elliott and Gene D’Angelo do stuff with intersecting pink lines here that makes pasting a spellcircle from google image search look like crap.

Crimson Fox intercepts the magical attack and blasts it right back at Dreamslayer. Turns out that Crimson Fox was really Silver Sorceress under an illusion. I don’t mean all the time, just this specific instance. Because Scarlet Witches beat Dormammus, fact.

Oh and Uncle Mitch is alive even though the last we see of him in this issue would seem to indicate otherwise. Dreamslayer has bad aim. Having helped save the day now he’s on bed rest getting over the deadly INFLUENZA. And yes, I do know that influenza really is deadly.

The Extremist robots are repurposed for Madame Clouseau’s Wax Museum and Flash and JLE bureau chief Catherine are visiting the museum wrapping up some final plot exposition as the comic wraps. Donating the deactivated robots to the museum being Catherine’s idea of a PR move.

It would later backfire horribly when Dreamslayer returned possessing Maxwell Lord and reactivated them. They’d be thwarted again but it would lead to the death of Silver Sorceress.

But comics be like that sometimes.

[m00nslippers]

All of our questions were answered in RHATO #31! OR WERE THEY? (They weren’t, like at all.)

When we left off in #30, Jason was confronting the guy who claims to be Willis Todd in the basement of an abandoned creepy prison made over into some kind of drug distribution center/android factory/still a prison. That’s pretty much right where they pick up. Oh and also the cover says:

They really don’t, though. One guy dies. One. This cover was an outright lie. There are ZERO zombies in this issue! WHY WOULD YOU LIE TO ME LIKE THIS DC?

There’s a flashback of ‘Willis’ looking back on how Rebirth has gone so far and saying some pretty poignant stuff about how Gotham hasn’t treated Jason the way he deserves. I’m not going to lie, I’m really into the Jason as the promised son/savior allegories. The Damned Prince of Gotham is an iconic epithet.

THIS is where we left off, and we learn Willis is calling himself Solitary and starts calling Jason ‘son’ but Jay isn’t having it.

Jason, you’re like two or three years older than this kid. And you’ve been way worse than kidnapped when you were way younger. Seriously, it’s like he doesn’t even realize he’s traumatized.

ALSO, JayMig, you guys. He’s LEGAL. Ship ship ship ship ship....(it’s okay if you don’t get on my ship I’m just going to be weird over here in this corner...)

Solitary: You missed me! *crowbar wooshes past him* Jason: I ain’t missed nuthin’! *crowbar hits Bunker’s prison-vat* Solitary: Ulp! (no he literally said ulp! in one panel.) Jason: You’ve been bamboozled, SON!

Classic Jason Todd.

I guess Solitary can control perception? I thought he was literally just omnipresent like he was literally everywhere and nowhere. That’s what he said to Ma Gunn, his ‘mother’. But whatever. This is Lobdell, he forgets what he’s doing halfway through doing it and just starts doing something else entirely.

Bunker is Mexican, if you guys didn’t know. It actually makes some sense that he’s here. in Mexico. Also, canonically gay.

( Ship ship ship ship ship )

Technically I’m not sure they actually met in that comic. It was a crossover event in New 52, Roy and Starfire and the Teen Titans (including Bunker) fought zombies, or something while Tim and Jason were captured by the Joker and Jason actually got to show off a little by psyching out the Joker and shooting him while blindfolded and breaking him and Tim out of trouble after getting kidnapped (those two sure do get kidnapped a lot when they are together...)

Also, SUPER REFRESHING for a hero to run into the Red Hood and be all, “Hey man, let’s be friends!” instead of immediately belike “What!? The Red Hood? Yuck, you’re a bad guy! Imma fight you!”

Dog has been around for 2 issues and she’s already the most useful teammate Jason has ever had. Jason and Dog, besties forever!

You really didn’t though, Jay. We have no idea who this guy is, how he got your old costume, what he wants or why he’s here. All we know is he wants you to go back to Gotham.

WHY CAN’T YOU BE HONEST WITH US!? WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!?

They were fighting right before this panel, and the fight was pretty good too, they seem to be evenly matched in terms of fighting ability. Maybe Wingman was slightly better, but Jason had a Doggo on his side so it evened out.

Unrelated, but I actually like this artist and what they are doing, everything looks really clean, the action is very readable and the anatomy is excellent, I’m not a fan of Jason’s haircut but luckily we already know he gets his longer hair back in an issue or two, thank god.

Solitary comes out as Jason’s dad. Apparently when he was in prison he volunteered for some experiments on people’s minds to try to get out early. We saw a little of this foreshadowed like ten issues ago. The experiments were done with tech stolen from Lex Luthor, so he hired Artemis to go fuck them up for stealing it and using it on people. In the fight it messed Wilis up and combined his mind with a few other inmates into his body or something. So that’s what happened to him.

I think it’s trying to be implied that this prison Jason is at where Solitary is operating out of was literally the prison where it all happened, but there are a few problems with that, namely 1) they don’t send American prisoners to Mexican prisons, and 2) that prison had water around it in the panels where it showed it happening and this prison is in the middle of a dessert so who knows what’s going on here.

Okay, so a Gotham thug getting a batman tattoo after coming out of a fight with him without going to prison is the kind of thing a Gotham thug would totally brag about. “See this scar? I got it from Batman, yo! And then I got a bat tattoo to commemorate it!”

Guess what though, Willis/Solitary doesn’t have the tattoo. SOLITARY ISN’T HIS DAD. Maybe this guy thinks he’s Willis but he’s actually not, he just has his memories or perceptions or whatever. He was one of the minds combined into this dude. This explains why Jason walked right past him more than once, he wasn’t really his dad (although with ‘perception’ powers it wouldn't actually have mattered even if he was). Jason has so many shitty wannabe dads it’s crazy. Batman, Solitary, Joker, Ra’s, get in line, folks.

Jason straight up kills this guy, no flinching. I love how Jason is so matter of fact about everything in this issue, Solitary says he’s his dad, and Jason is just like, “Okay, no, and I can prove it.” No melodramatic gasps or anything.

It amazes me that people seem to think Jason is so overemotional and angry all the time, and can’t get anything done because he’s too busy being mad, when he does shit like this without making any kind of deal about it or shouting or anything. Jason gets angry and emotional about ONE THING, and that’s his ACTUAL FAMILY BEING SHITTY TO HIM. A.K.A batfam stuff. Pretty much whenever he’s actually mad, and acting crazy it’s justified, he’s in serious emotional distress. He’s not some super angry murder boy all the time! I mean, he does murder people...but not because he’s just angry, it’s always a calculated move.

A slight time skip (a week).

*cries* WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME!?

I think Lobdell is as pissed off as we are that Roy was killed off in a stupid way for stupid drama. Because he’s been really selling us Jason being super sad and messed up about it and even tried to give him a good send off in the Annual. Like, I complain a lot about Lobdell, but at least I think he actually likes Jason and tries to do right by him in his stories, he’s just really scatterbrained about storylines sometimes. Like he needs someone to say, “Yeah, maybe not this, but this stuff is good.” That’s kind of the comics industry in general though, they don’t have anyone making sure characters act in character. They need someone vetoing some of the more stupid ideas, but they don’t seem to have any of that.

The New Outlaws! Red Hood, Bunker, Dog and Wingman.

Wingman is...some old guy. We see his face but it’s no one obvious. Clearly he has some connection to Jason. But he’s definitely not Roy, unless something REALLY weird is going on.

I still think there’s a good chance that he’s a future Jason from another dimension. But there’s also a chance that he’s Jason’s REAL FATHER since we know Solitary wasn’t. Hell, maybe he’s got the same powers Solitary had and it was him who went to see Ma Gunn before because she seemed pretty sure that guy was really Willis Todd, and he’s changing how he looks so Jay won’t know. We’ll see I guess.

And Bunker is just like, oh, you’re gonna go back to Gotham, fuck up Penguin and take all his stuff and start running a mob? I’m down. I don’t know his character (except that Lobdell created him and purposefully made him not angsty), I’m going to have to read some old Teen Titans, but I’m into it so far. He’s just super puppy-like, helpful, “I don’t know what’s happening but let’s be friends!” I can imagine Jason just blinking at him and being like, “Just...what even are you? Why are you so nice?! Why do you even like me!? Why are you even here!?” Miguel, all like, *shrug* “You saved my life and you’re hot?” Jason, “...well that’s a reason, I guess.”

YEEEEES. Tell me the old costume is making a come back! Also, Jason in a Trench Coat is the shit. He looks so sexy, you guys. I’m so ready for Mob Boss Jason. And Miguel is his gay right hand lover I mean man. YES.

( Ship ship ship ship ship )

Yeah, I’m getting so many “Wingman is from the future” vibes right now. He’s either Jason himself or someone he knows, but from the future/another dimension. Or maybe he can see the future.

Well, that was it. It was pretty good even if I was raising my eyebrows a few times at all the NOT explaining we were getting. I’m actually kind of excited for next issue though, you guys! Jason is going to mess up Penguin and take the Ice Burg Lounge, I’m so up for this!

[kumkaniudaku]

Chop, Chop!

A/N: This is for @alltheestars. Thank you for the request. I did a little CoCo and Chad throwback. I hope you like it!

Warnings: None. Just fluff.

Chadwick Boseman x Black! Female Reader (Chad & CoCo AU)

If there was one thing you took pride in, it was your hair.

In primary school, your mother would decorate your luscious pigtails with ribbons of every hue, being sure to match them to your school uniforms per your request. When other little girls would come home with unruly manes after a long day of playing, you returned with every strand neatly in place, almost identical to the way you had left the house.

By middle school, you had transitioned from the elementary hairstyles orchestrated by your mother to the beautiful press and curls from Ms. Gina, the family beautician. Your father would happily spend the $80 a week to make sure that you and your mother were well taken care of on Saturday mornings. Ms. Gina would take your virgin hair and wash it, grease it and press it to your specific instructions. Even when she’d bump the ends a little too much and leave you as a shoe in for a role asJames Brown, you marveled at how grown up you looked.

In high school, you took over the reigns and began crafting your own hairstyles. The ability to quickly transition from a flat press to a ponytail and back to a french roll gave you a liberating sense of freedom. When you were awarded ‘Best Hair’ as your senior superlative, you carried the title with pride.

College held more of the same. It was at Howard University that you were introduced to Aaliyah and her iconic swoop bang. There wasn’t a day that went by that your hair was not carefully parted on the left side with a thick bang covering your left eye. You figured that, if you couldn’t mimic her singing ability, you’d at least take her personal style for a spin.

Chadwick would often tease you by blasting her music whenever you’d visit his off campus house and beg you to do the dance moves in his living room. As much as you’d deny it, you loved being the center of his attention, even if he was picking on you.

With all of your previous hair triumphs, when your roommate Lynn needed a practice dummy to test her beauty skills, you were all for it. A simple color job inspired by Janet Jackson’s Velvet Rope era was the deal but, soon you found yourself with a snug processing cap over your head and the stinging of a box perm burning tears into your eyes.

“Lynn, this shit burns! Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Yeah! My cousin Monica perms and colors her hair all the time! What’s the matter? You never had a perm before?”

You hadn’t. You’d always beg for one but your mother made sure you knew that everything a perm could do, a hot comb or flat iron could do just as well.

Your lack of knowledge and eagerness to change up your look seemed to be harmless at first. The subtle scarlet color was the perfect complement to your brown skin and came with the just the right amount of sheen. The perm left your hair so silky and smooth that you didn’t even mind the slight loss of volume.

“Lynn, I could kiss you in the mouth!” You exclaimed while executing a small spin to see your hair move behind you.

“I’ll pass. Save that for your revolutionary little boyfriend. Now come here, your roots are still puffy at your crown.”

What you didn’t expect from your little experiment was the handful of hair that left your scalp and clung to the flat iron. One handful turned into three and those three turned into breakage all around your head.

“What did you do to my hair!”

“All I did was a little bleach and color with the perm.”

“BLEACH!”

It was too late. No matter how much you tried to fix it, the damage was done. In a matter of hours you’d managed to trade in your healthy hair for a broken, brittle mess. Distraught and hopeless, you knew what needed to be done.

The next morning, with tears in your eyes, you watched a local hairdresser trim your hair to the root, only leaving a curly skeleton of what you use to hold so dear. When she was done, she handed you a tiny list of product suggestions and a little advice before pushing you out of the doors into the DC streets.

Maneuvering around campus proved to be the most daunting task. You’d grown to be a bit of a socialite, forcing you to avoid the three c’s: conversations, club meetings and Chadwick.

Through careful planning, the first two were easy but, Chad was hard to shake. After three days of no communication, he left a note in your work study office practically threatening you to stop by his house at the end of the day.

“CoCo, don’t make me come find you. I’ll be home at 6. Come by.”

Reluctantly, you trudged down the hill carefully covering your head with the hood of your Howard basketball pullover and a hat for added protection. It was foolish to think that the ever inquisitive and observant Chadwick Boseman would not immediately notice your odd attire but, it was worth a try.

Stepping to the front door, you quietly prayed that Chad was caught up in class or too busy working on a script to answer so that you could say that you tried and scurry back home. Instead, the weathered door swung open to reveal your shirtless best friend with a guitar in his hand and a confused look on his face.

“It’s 75 degrees out. Why do you have on that sweatshirt?”

“Is that how you greet people now? No, ‘Hey, how are you?’, just questions? What if I did that to you?”

“Well...you kind of just did.”

Pushing him aside, you marched through the house and into his bedroom hoping that your petty argument would dead the inquiries. It wasn’t long before you were flopping across his bed and staring at the ceiling to fight back tears.

“So, you gon’ tell me what’s going on with the hood? You pledging Que and hiding a bald head under there?”

He was joking but your uneasy laugh and averted gaze alerted him to a larger problem. Hesitantly, you allowed him to lay in the space beside you to remove your hood and hat.

“This is...new.” Chadwick responded after carefully choosing his words. His fingers lightly caressed the top of your head, stopping briefly to fiddle with a ringlet at your crown. “Are you really pledging Que? Should I get balloons? I know you’re the tre because Tim and Eric are short as hell.”

“Ha ha, Chad. You’re so funny.” The tears you’d been trying to hold in slipped past your closed eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

“Woah woah, CoCo. Don’t cry. What’s wrong? How can I fix it?”

“You can’t fix it, Aaron!” You hadn’t intended to yell at him but the frustration of the last few days was starting to catch up to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. This isn’t your fault.”

Enveloped in comfortable silence, Chadwick examined your face. Usually you’d tell him to take a picture so that it would last longer but now, with your eyes closed, he could take as much time as he wanted.

“If it helps, I think you look amazing.”

He watched you slowly open your eyes and scrunch your nose at his statement. “Yeah, right. I look like a dark-skinned DeBarge.”

“Yeah but, you can’t sing.” His boisterous laughter managed to pull a laugh from you until your stomach was hurting from the force. “But seriously, you look fine. It suits your face. I can finally see your eyes without that bang in the way.”

“You told me you thought it was fly!”

“It was! But, I like this one too. I like whatever to do with your hair and stuff. You make all of it look good.”

A familiar set of butterflies fluttered in your abdomen at his kind words and the feel of his hand returning to rub your head. How was he able to make you feel so beautiful with just a few words? He could’ve repeated that same line to every girl on campus but, in this moment, you felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

“So I don’t look like a low budget Missy Elliot?”

“Actually, that’s probably the best comparison.” He laughed. “Look at it this way though; we can go get haircuts together.”

“Haircuts? You been on this Basquiat journey for a while now. Would you really go get a haircut with me?”

Running his hands through his ‘fro, he gave the thought of a haircut serious consideration. He’d spent a lot of time growing his hair out to achieve the locs that were sprouting from his scalp. Not only did they fit his image but they’d received a lot of attention from the other women on campus. Was he really willing to get rid of them for you?

“Give me three weeks. If you still want to maintain the haircut by then, I’ll go with you.”

“Really!” You squealed, pressing your body into his bare chest. He never had the chance to keep you close before you hopped of the bed and danced around the small room.

Grabbing his guitar, he began strumming background music to your solo party.

“CoCo’s big ass head just got bigger…” He sang, a broad smile contrasting your straight-faced expression. “I’m messing with you!”

Rolling your eyes, you drug yourself back to the bed to sit beside him and lay your head against his shoulder. “Thanks, Chad. I needed this.”

“Anytime, CoCo. I got you no matter what.” His eyes found yours again in the tender moment, sharing a sweet smile with you.

“Your head is still big though. You look like Michael Jordan with hair. I mean gah damn!”

_____________________

FOREVER TAGS: @njadont  @k-michaelis @wakandanmoonchild​  @idilly @texasbama @afraiddreamingandloving @inxan-ity @daytimeheroicsonly @thiccdaddy-mbaku @onyour-right @briannabreeze @sisterwifeudaku @ironsquad @killmongerdispussy @90sinspiredgirl @killmongersaidheyauntie @willowtree77785901 @maynardqueen101 @heyauntieeee @halfrican-heat @purple-apricots @lalapalooza718 @blue-ishx @profilia

[snickletastic]

The Ultimate Batfamily Dreamcasting

so, i wanted to make this to show you guys what i’d imagine the batfamily would look like in real life. i’ve been doing a lot of researching on what people's’ preferences are, and this list took me a long time to make. i understand that everyone has their own ideas of what they’d look like, what race they’d be, and all that, so i hope you guys understand these are what my favourite choices are. so, with that being said, this is my dreamcasting. :)

Dick Grayson

dick grayson is undoubtedly the hardest and most controversial to cast, due to his romani heritage. it’s honestly pretty hard to find romani actors that look like him! so i hope you guys don’t mind that these guys aren’t actually romani (i totally support a romani actor for the character though!)

Steven Yeun

i know steven yeun is a really popular fancast for dick grayson, and personally, i think he’d be pretty good. 

Andrew Garfield

okay, hear me out, i know andrew garfield has already played peter parker and all, but if DC would consider reusing him for dick grayson, he’d be a pretty damn good choice imo. 

Ben Barnes

the guy from westworld! i know he’s a bit old for dick grayson, but he sure doesn’t look it. he’d also be a fresh face for the film, and fans wouldn’t really automatically tie him to another movie or character (except for westworld of course haha)

Xavier Serrano

alright, alright. i know xavier serrano is more of a model than an actor, but if you put this guy through some acting classes, he’d be perfect. he has the looks and the age, just not the acting chops, unfortunately. 

Finn Wittrock

an actor who was in american horror story, he may be a great choice for dick. he’s got the right looks and height for the character. 

thank you to @thequalone for recommending him for the list!  

An Unknown Actor

people have so many different opinions about who should play dick grayson, that maybe DC should try to find a new, young actor for him. 

Jason Todd 

there are soooooo many fancasts for jason, like, i could literally list hundreds. but through all of them, there’s one specific person i know would be perfect.

Matthew Daddario

look at him!!!!! look at him!!! he’s perfect for jason! he’s got the looks and the acting skills down. he already plays a badass in the shadowhunters, and i know he’d be exactly what we need as a good jason todd.

Tim Drake

timmy also has tons of fancasts, so i’ll try to list my personal favourites.

Dylan O’Brien

before you say it, i know not everybody likes him. but he’d be perfect for tim, honestly. we already know he’s a good actor, and he’s played a nerd before. he’s young, attractive, and he’s been getting some pretty good roles in hollywood so far. 

Logan Lerman

don’t mind the fact i had to put a picture of him instead of a gif (i could only find gifs of him from 2012 from perks of being a wallflower, his haircut was awful). you can’t deny that he looks like timmy, even just a bit. besides, he’s pretty young. if there was a scene with tim drake and the flash together, it’d be pobaw all over again. just please don’t make anymore gifs of it, there’s more than enough.

Ryan Potter

i know that he’s already been cast as beastboy and all, but he would’ve been the perfect tim drake. but i’m really happy that he’s been cast as another hero, and i’m excited to see him in titans. :)

Damian Wayne

okay so i’m not gonna put any casts for damian for one big reason: he’s a kid. it’ll probably take years for damian to show up in the movies, and by the time he’s finally in them, all my fan casts won’t be kids anymore. 

Duke Thomas

a fairly new addition to batman’s family, he probably won’t show up in the movies for awhile, or at least until his name is a bit more well known. but, i do have a couple favourites for him, too.

Donald Glover

donald glover may be a bit old, but he doesn’t look a day over 25. who doesn’t love him, honestly?

John Boyega

i must admit it, i’ve never seen star wars: the force awakens, but i’ve heard nothing but great things about john boyega’s performance in it. he’s young, handsome, and is apparently a great actor. 

Michael B. Jordan

it’s no secret that fantastic 4 sucked total ass, but i think michael b. jordan deserves a second chance as a superhero, don’t you? 

Barbara Gordon

barbara gordon is a pretty easy person to cast, honestly. here are a couple favourites:

Emma Watson

emma watson is already a pretty famous actress, but with some red hair dye, she’d be a pretty decent barbara.

Daisy Ridley

my personal favourite for barbara, daisy would be a damn good batgirl. a new star, she’s the perfect age for her, and she’s got the right looks.

Stephanie Brown

there’s no shortage of white women with blonde hair in hollywood, so there’s probably hundreds of women that could play steph. i’ll give you some of my favourites.

Dove Cameron

i don’t know much about this girl, except that she was in that liv and maddie show, which i thought was awful but maybe a few acting classes can remedy that. she’s certainly pretty and young enough for steph.

Peyton List

this was the only good gif of her i could find, but this is the actress from jessie. i mean, she’s blonde, right? ha, no im just kidding around. she wasn’t that bad of an actress in jessie, and she’s also young and pretty. 

Hayley Kiyoko

hayley kiyoko is half japanese, and i think it’d be pretty cool to have her be stephanie. the thing is, i only remember her from the scooby doo movies. while the scooby doo movies were legendary in their own right, they aren’t known to have the best acting in the world.

 Cassandra Cain

another character we probably won’t see in awhile, but i’ll still add a few favourites .

Rowan Blanchard

i don’t know too much about rowan, but i know people love her because of girl meets world. I think she’s got the looks for cass, but im unsure of her acting skills. 

Jamie Chung

i know she’s a bit old, but once again, does she look 34 to you? yeah, me neither. 

Chloe Grace Moretz

i gotta be honest, i don’t like chloe grace moretz. but, we already know she can play a good badass, she already knows how to do stunts, she’s young and pretty, and she’s got a good fan following. say what you want, but she wouldn’t be the worst cast.

Teresa Ting

a young chinese-american actress, she may be another pretty good choice for cass. 

Selina Kyle

there couldn’t be a more perfect actress than audrey hepburn for selina, but, unfortunately that can’t be. but i mean, just look at the resemblance. 

it’s uncanny, it really is. but without further ado, here are my casts for selina kyle.

 Kat Dennings

i honestly just really like kat dennings. i know she was in thor and all, but that was a fairly small role, you know? i think she could really pull off selina. she’s got that dark hair and all, she’s one of my favourite picks for sure.

Thandie Newton

for a bit of an older selina, thandie would be amazing. she’s a great actress, and really proved it in westworld. she’s got the looks and has already played a total badass.

Diane Kruger

a more famous route, diane kruger is a very good actress. all she needs is a box of black hair dye and a fancy catsuit, and she’ll have the role down.

Dianna Agron

i think dianna would be a great selina. she's a terrific actress and is certainly sexy enough for the role.

so, that’s it! if you disagree with a few casts, thats fine, but please dont message me saying im an asshole for not having the same opinion as you. if you think you have a better choice, please let me know! i’d love to hear what everyone else thinks of this list or who they’d add.  :)

masterlist

[renaroo]

My Perspective on This Idiocy

I have a hate-fascination with Nick Spencer. I’ve read his comic Bedlam and thought it was just about the best comic he was capable of writing because creator-owned Image publications tend to be quite a bit of insight into the creator. 

Now if you don’t know about Bedlam it’s a comic where a maniacal, Joker-esque villain known as Madder Red terrorized a city until he seemingly died in a final fight with his heroic adversary. In truth he was captured by some mysterious organization that “reformed” him through questionable means. And suddenly he is working along with the police force to try and stop other villainous maniacs while constantly being on edge with whether or not his reform actually worked. 

An inherently evil man, secretly reformed, infiltrating the side of justice he once worked against, in order to maintain law and order. The sort of thing which had it happened with a Red Skull or a Joker people would (rightfully) lost their shit because the moral event horizons for the characters are so far removed from the concept of reformation in reality we wouldn’t be able to accept it. 

I read Bedlam at the time and was fascinated by a dark inversion of what the only “end point” for undeniable evil in a comic book world could be, but I was also in my very light, very short “dark and gritty” phase of being an 18 year old life long comic reader. 

What I’m getting at is that since then I care a lot more about the motivations of why people choose to write such stories and frame them the way they do than I did when I was younger. 

My next hate-fascination with Nick Spencer wasn’t other indie titles like Morning Glories (which I missed the boat on) or his run on Ant-Man (which I skipped because I haven’t had a huge relationship with the character), but with his involvement with the “Superior Spider-Man” storyline Dan Slott was penning, Spencer writing Superior Foes of Spider-Man. If you don’t remember, that was a storyline where Doc Ock was dying so he switched brains with Peter Parker and left Parker to die in his old body but decided to be a pompous asshole version of Spider-Man and outdo his predecessor culminating in an issue where he dates Mary Jane briefly so that Slott could continue to fuck with MJ fans and have an issue where the cover had MJ in her underwear. Classy. 

Spencer obviously didn’t have a lot to do with this main storyline (though the current parallels tells me a lot about the values Marvel puts in maintaining the concept of what superheroes even are), but he wrote the ancillary book that was allotted by a lot of fans and critics that turned the Sinister Six into a Suicide Squad/Secret Six-like morally questionable-to-bankrupt protagonists whose exploits you come to hate yourself for cheering on as gleefully as you do, especially in the face of inevitable defeat.

Humanizing and giving voice to the side of the people comics have traditionally used as hatable enemies easy to root against. 

The next bout of hate-fascination I’ve had is with this tire fire that has been his run with Captain America and what we’ve seen as the moral collapsing of the entirety of the Marvel Universe. A world where the Nazis were supposed to win WWII and the Allies decided that the MU as we’ve known it, as crafted by Jack Kirby, Joe Simon, Stan Lee, Steve Ditko, and many others (mostly Jewish creators), was actually a FALSE reality crafted by the Allies after-the-fact where they made sure to defeat Hitler, but allowed the Holocaust to happen. A fact that REALLY can’t be overlooked considering what a vital role it plays in Magneto’s life and his descendants’ lives, not to mention the parallels of the struggles of the X-Men in general. 

You can follow the entirety of what has been the Spencer disaster in great articles like this Polygon summary and the same author’s rundown of yesterday’s issue.

But, apparently, people still don’t get it because everything’s cyclical and comics will return to normal by the end of the summer yatta yatta let’s ignore that three months ago there were actual Neo-Nazis including Tila Tequila holding a party in DC where leaked footage shows hate speeches and actual Nazi saluting to “Hail Trump” and the fact that a high level Marvel executive is now a paid member of the Trump White House that also has Steve Bannon and Stephen Miller. 

Let’s instead look at what this says about Nick Spencer as a writer. The man is a professed Liberal, a huge Hillary supporter apparently during her campaign, and also a man baby who takes offense to everything on Twitter Dan Slott-style, and apparently has an inability to reflect upon his own body of work and see the trends that are glaringly obvious to me just through this short overview. 

Nick Spencer is a white, male neo-Liberal suffering from a morbid fascination with the macabre fascism and atrocities of reality, who is just being ‘real’ and ‘edgy’ by making drawn out portrayals of these ideologies, and saying “implications and moral grandstanding be damned” because (for reasons that he pretends to be oblivious to) this sort of villainous humanizing and morality postulating world where “Social Justice” terms can be hurled by careless, strawmen “actual bad guys” and Black characters who suffer racist abuses in- and out-of-universe apologize to their white friend  sells to the white, male 18-35 demographic. 

Is Nick Spencer a neo-Nazi or support the real world fascism he uses in his stories? I don’t know, I don’t really care. 

But I know why he’s using it to sell comics, and I find that fact unforgivable both for him and for Marvel. And for him to act like he’s being attacked for “simply writing good, controversial stories” while he and his buddies claim that the REAL PROBLEMS at Marvel right now are diversity and that damn DC putting out content people are gravitating toward instead of shitty comics where Captain America and the whole world are actually Nazis the whole time, shows me where convictions of his sort really lie. 

You can stamp your “I’m With Her” stickers all over your forehead and lambast Trump tweets all day, Nick Spencer, but like most white, male neo-Liberals I have met in my life it doesn’t really make a difference because your nose is still stuck up the assholes of the people you actually relate to because other communities you “champion” for are harder to understand and more complex to portray the humanizing elements of compared to moral quanderies of “punching that guy who kinda looks like me and had a life like mine just because he has a stupid haircut and talks about the symbolism of Peppe the Frog while proclaiming the superiority of the White Race makes us just as bad as Hitler, guys”. 

Yeah, it’s easier. Just like it’s easier to say you’re pro-Diversity, pro-Women, pro-LGBTQA+, pro-Progressive ideals to avoid being called out or questioned, but much harder to write with a conscience perspective for those groups while playing to your actual target audience. 

So my hate-fascination with Nick Spencer has come full circle. He’s ironically hit his own moral event horizon. And he’ll possibly make himself and Marvel lots of money while doing so. But it won’t be from the demographics that are actually growing in America and worldwide. It’ll be from the one that’s been shrinking for 20 years now and, historically, already lost this war once. 

Not that Nick Spencer’s current Nazi fever dream likes to admit that they actually lost it. 

I’m going to declare my hate-fascination with Spencer over. Not because I think his career is over, not because I don’t think he’ll make some other big waves with some other stupidity (probably on twitter) later. But because he’s finally reached the apex of this little journey in his writing career. And it’s boringly average white fanboy fare in the big picture of comics. 

Characters and comics are immortal, writers and artists are temporary, but the shame of this douchebaggery is hopefully going to be immortal. 

It will be for as long as I’m blogging, at least. 

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

Losing Your Memory 2/2

And here comes the angst!

AO3, Fanfiction

Three Days Later

               Things had quickly returned to normal on the Waverider once Leonard Snart had returned to them. He had been filled in on the events that he had missed, and was fitting back into the team as though the Oculus had never happened. When he found out that there was a statue of Mick in Washington DC, he had requested Rip for them to make a pit stop to it for “reasons”. Rip had agreed to the request, as he was curious about the new existence of the statue himself.

               Mick and Leonard had gotten past the whole self-sacrificing issue without having to fight it out again, although sharp words were exchanged between them. In the end, Mick was just happy to have the Leonard Snart he knew back from the dead to remain too angry with him. In addition to patching up things with Mick, Leonard and Sara had fallen back into their usual rhythm and banter quickly. However, it seemed that there was more between the crook and the assassin now. Mick had seen Leonard slip into Sara’s bunk the previous night, while Ray shared that he had witnessed him leave that very morning, followed shortly by Sara.

“Think they’re something now?” he’d badgered Mick as they entered the kitchen. “Like together?”

“Not my damn business,” Mick growled in reply, although he knew that they definitely were. He’d been expecting it to happen before the Oculus even happened, and it now seemed long overdue. Still, he wouldn’t spill the beans on them to the rest of the team. It was their secret to tell and the team would probably figure it out soon anyways.

“Who’s together?” Amaya asked from where she was stood at the counter, a half peeled orange in her hand.

“Sara and Snart,” Mick told her as Ray beat him to the food replicator. “Haircut won’t stop gossiping about them.”

“There’s something going on between them,” Ray insisted. “You can’t miss the looks they give each other. I know when something’s going on, and I’ll figure it out if it kills me.”

“Blondie’d kill you first for snooping,” Mick chuckled. “Or Snart, depending on who catches you first.”

“Hey, I’m sneaky!”

Amaya pressed her lips together to suppress a smile. “Not exactly.”

“You and Mick have been spending too much time together,” Ray grumbled as he took his sandwich from the replicator.

The woman shrugged and shot a smile at Mick. “I’m not sorry. He’s good company.”

“At least you’re not holding a knife to my throat these days,” he replied.

               Amaya’s smile grew wider as she shook her head at the memory. Since Leonard’s rescue, they’d talked. Both were still feeling out where they stood. But they did agree that the next place they landed, they would go somewhere. Given Leonard’s insistence to see Mick’s statue, they were likely going to end up in Washington DC. Mick was actually looking forward to it.

               He made to move away from the counter when the orange fell from Amaya’s hands. When it hit the counter, Mick looked back. Her smile had vanished as she squeezed her eyes shut. She held her hands against the sides of her head before sinking to her knees slowly on the floor.

“Amaya?” Ray moved beside Mick. “Are you okay?”

               In response, she opened her mouth and screamed. It was full of pain, like she was being hurt by something. Her hands moved to cover her ears more as she screamed again. Mick watched, paralyzed and unsure of what to do. Amaya screamed once more before falling backwards, snapping Mick out of his spell. He hurried over to her, his eyes widening at the sight of the blood trickling out of her nose.

“Haircut, get help,” he ordered as he picked up the fallen woman.

               Ray nodded and ran out of the kitchen. Mick exited as well, but headed toward the med bay with Amaya. She was shaking a little, but her nosebleed seemed to have stopped. Her eyes opened slowly, and Mick looked down at her. She seemed dazed and puzzled.

“Mick…” she groaned, barely focusing on him.

“What happened?” he asked, stopping momentarily.

He didn’t get an answer from her. Amaya’s eyes closed again before she could get out an answer.

Mick picked up the pace to get to the med bay.

               Opening her eyes felt like a herculean effort for Amaya. Once she was finally able to, she was greeted with the sight of Rip and Mick standing over her in the med bay. The last thing Amaya remembered was being in the kitchen with the latter and Ray when another one of the headaches had hit her. Since rescuing Snart, it had been her eighth. They didn’t have any pattern to them, coming out of nowhere to bring splitting pain that filled her head, images that appeared and disappeared too quickly to be identified, and voices shouting at the top of their lings. In the last three instances, her nose had started to bleed during them. She had passed out in her room when the one before the latest hit her.

“Hey,” she mumbled.

Rip and Mick both looked down at her. The two men looked worried, and Mick looked like he’d gotten the worse possible news ever.

“How long has this been happening?” he asked.

Amaya exhaled slowly. “Since I went out to save Snart. I thought they were migraines before they started getting worse.”

“You’re lucky that’s only been happening now,” Rip told her. “It’s a miracle you’re still alive at this point.”

She shook her head. “What?”

“Your rescue of Mr. Snart exposed your body to a massive amount of temporal energy,” Gideon explained from above. “Your body absorbed this energy, and is now being attacked by it. It’s slowly moving to collect within your brain. The attacks you have been experiencing are a symptom of the energy moving towards it.”

“My glove,” Amaya closed her eyes briefly. “It tore out there a little. That’s how it got in, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid that is not the energy signature that I am detecting,” the AI commented. “It had been reading the same signature as that of the time storm’s temporal energy. I picked up trace amounts of it on Mr. Snart after he was brought aboard.”

“So how come he hasn’t experienced any attacks?” Mick demanded.

“I believe the explosion of the Oculus impacted him on a cellular level, Mr. Rory,” Gideon replied. “The scan I performed on Mr. Snart showed the changes. The exposure to temporal energy at the blast somehow rendered his cells immune to the effects of it. However, that does not mean it can collect and transfer to another host.”

“Which was me,” Amaya realized, remembering her glove again. When she had grabbed Snart, she remembered the change of temperature in his hand. The temporal energy must have transferred then.

“So how does it come out?” Mick asked Gideon.

The AI was silent for a few beats. “There is a way to remove it, although I do not think Ms. Jiwe, yourself, or the rest of the team will like the consequences, Mr. Rory.”

“Just tell me what’ll happen,” Amaya snapped. She didn’t want to tiptoe around this. Whatever it was, she could take it.

“The temporal energy is attracted to your recent memories- the ones that involve time travel and interaction with it. The energy can be removed, but only by removing the memories themselves. They will be unable to be recovered unless you experience time travel again. Unfortunately, if those memories return, so will the temporal energy within you and the attacks you have been suffering.”

Amaya inhaled shakily. She could survive this, but only if she forgot everything she’d gone through on the Waverider and everyone she had met here.

“And what happens if she doesn’t get rid of the energy?” Sara’s voice joined in as she and the remaining team members entered.

Amaya frowned as everyone filed in. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ve been listening in after Dr. Palmer informed us what had happened,” Stein revealed with a glare at Rip. “Some people decided not to inform the rest of us of Ms. Jiwe’s situation.”

“I was not aware of the consequences surrounding the removal of the energy until now,” Rip fired back.

“Gideon, we’re having words later about you not telling me what the Oculus did to me,” Leonard drawled from where he stood beside Sara. “But what happens if my rescuer doesn’t get the energy taken out.”

“It will continue to collect inside her skull and brain,” the AI explained as everyone’s face dropped. “The attacks will persist with visions and voices from the timeline, as well as the nosebleeds and loss of consciousness. However, they will increase in duration as well. Based on current scans, I doubt Ms. Jiwe will likely survive past two more attacks. Her death because of this will result in catastrophic effects on the timeline and the deaths of multiple individuals earlier than they should occur in this timeline. I believe you are familiar or will become familiar with some of them- Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, John Diggle, Caitlin Snow, Barry Allen, Julian Albert, Lisa Snart, Lily Stein, and Dick Grayson.”

While the others were unfamiliar with Julian or this Dick, the rest of the names meant something to the other members of the team. Sara shuddered at the thought of losing her sister earlier than she had. Leonard had gone stiff at the mention of Lisa. Ray appeared to be distinctly rattled, while Stein looked like he was going to be sick.

               As soon as she saw the faces of her teammates, Amaya knew she had to give up her memories. She couldn’t put her friends through losing people they knew and cared about. Refusing the treatment would mean she would die knowing about everything she had been through, but it would destroy the present state of the timeline. Only agreeing to forget would let the casualties be reduced. It would make returning to 1942 easier too then, as if she had never left. She felt selfish for thinking like that, but she knew she was not wrong.

“Guess I have to forget then,” she sighed, looking out at the team.

“No,” Mick insisted. “There’s got to be another way.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Rory,” Gideon apologized. “But I’m afraid there is no other option.”

The man looked defeated by Gideon’s words. Rip left Amaya’s side to walk over towards the replicator. A heavy stillness fell over the team now. Amaya swallowed back the lump in her throat. Despite everything, she had become attached to these people, and cared about them. Knowing she wouldn’t miss them after losing her memories made her feel worse.

“So this is goodbye then,” she said, staring out at them. “You could have easily taken me back to 1942, but you let me stay. You allowed me to seek justice for Rex’s death.  I got to see incredible things across time. Even if I have to forget them, these have been some of the best days of my life. Thank you for them.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” Leonard stated. “You were the one who saved me, and now this is happening to you.”

“If you’re going to try and blame yourself for this, then don’t,” Amaya ordered as she saw the expression of barely masked guilt on his face. “If I hadn’t done this, then right now it would be Mick or Sara right here. With me, it’s for the best. I was always going to have to go back one day.”

“Feels too soon though,” Jax said.

“I know you won’t remember us,” Nate told her. “But we won’t forget you Amaya.”

Rip returned with a sort of band attached to multiple wires that he placed around her head. “Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Jiwe.”

“Thank you, Rip.”

He nodded. Amaya laid back, noticing that Mick hadn’t moved from where he was standing beside her. Reaching out, she clasped his gloved hand. He looked down at her, surprised.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “So much for the plans.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her. “You can probably still see it. Maybe you’ll go there with the JSA.”

“No,” she shook her head. “Don’t drop me back there. Take me to Zambesi. Bring me back home. Make up a story for the others to tell me how I came back.”

Mick nodded. Amaya could feel an ache starting in her temples, a sure sign that another attack was imminent.

“I care about you,” he said suddenly, meeting her eyes. “I care about you a lot.”

“Ms. Jiwe, I’m detecting a movement of temporal energy within you,” Gideon warned. “The procedure will need to begin soon.”

The clock was running down on her time here. Amaya took a deep breath and looked at everybody one last time, saving Mick for last. There were something she needed to say to him too, and she had to do it now. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I care about you too,” she smiled before steeling her features. “Okay, Gideon, I’m ready.”

“Yes, Ms. Jiwe. I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt.”

A sharp pain struck her in the back of the neck, right at the base of her skull. Amaya cried out before the area went numb. Her eyes started to feel heavily a moment later. She attempted to fight it, but failed. As soon as her eyes closed on Mick and the team watching over her, unconsciousness set in.

               Not long after Amaya’s eyes closed, her hand fell away from grasping Mick’s. The man stared as it slid from his to hang limp over the edge of the bed. His eyes moved up to her face and the calm expression on it. If he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed that she was asleep. Unfortunately, Mick knew what was happening to her right now was much worse.

               He didn’t want to spend another minute in the med bay, not with the whole group there. Without a word, he turned away from them and stormed out. Sara shouted after him. Snart told her to just let him go, something Mick was thankful for. He didn’t really feel up to being around the others right now. At least he had someone back who understood.

               When he had been Chronos under the Time Masters, they had been prepping Mick to one day become one of the Hunters. Once Chronos had squashed Rip’s attempt to save his family and defeat Savage, he would then join them. But there was a process in which the Hunters had their emotions stripped away from them. Mick was willing to give up a lot to go through that right now. Feelings just seemed to keep getting him hurt over and over again.

               Later, when he was sulking in his room after burning something, Snart came by. He told Mick that the procedure had been completed, and Amaya was currently under sedation. Sara was piloting a course to 1942 Zambesi, a few weeks after Amaya had boarded the Waverider. They had managed to fabricate a decent cover story for her family and friends to hear and tell her. Rip wanted to know if Mick wanted to join them in bringing her back to her village.

“No,” Mick shook his head. “Tell him no.”

Snart nodded and made to leave, but stopped. “I’m sorry about her, Mick. This happened because of me.”

“She told you not to blame yourself,” Mick snapped. “So don’t.”

His friend gave no reaction. “You loved her, huh?”

“I’m not talking about that shit with you,” Mick snarled with a glare.

“Fair enough,” Snart admitted, nodding. “You’re not alone though. The others are going to miss her too.”

With that, he left Mick alone.

               Later, when no one was around, Mick snuck into the med bay. He wanted to see Amaya one last time before they dropped her off. There was nothing to be said, and there never could be again. So he slipped something into her pocket and left after kissing her forehead. He pretended like nothing had happened when Rip asked again if he wanted to accompany the others in bringing Amaya home to her village. Still, he denied the request and decided to stay behind.

1943

               Amaya Jiwe’s eyes snapped open in the middle of the night, her dream already starting to fade from her memory. She had been in Chicago, and it had looked just like the pictures in the magazines. Since the JSA had stationed her back home with the war spreading into Africa and then the illness that had fractured her memories when she was stricken with it, she occasionally had odd dreams. She would travel to strange places. There were always the same people with her, including a blonde in white, a man on fire, another who could turn to steel, and a third who could shrink. But in her last dream, she had been with the man who had a rough exterior, but she somehow felt there was a goodness deep within him.

               Reaching over to the small table beside her, Amaya pulled the lighter off of it. In the moonlight, she could only just catch the shine off its metal surface. When she had recovered from the illness, it had been in her pocket. No one knew where it had come from, and she didn’t recall anyone in the JSA, not even Rex, ever giving her a lighter. But for some reason, she felt as if it was important. She flicked it, the flame dancing before her eyes.

In another century, the man who had given it to her was sitting in the brig of a pirate’s ship with two of his compatriots, hoping that she was happy.

[poeticsandaliens]

Laws of Motion

Pairing: Stella Gibson/ Jenny Shepard

I’ve always had a soft spot for Jenny Shepard, NCIS canon be damned. Jenny is alive and kicking ass, and she and Stella Gibson would make one hell of a power couple.

Newton's Laws of Motion:

1. An object at rest will remain at rest. 2. An object in motion will remain in motion, unless acted upon by a net force. 3. An objects motion is in the direction of and proportional to the net force acting upon it.

The bench was an unseemly shade of grey, its boards chipped and legs rusted. Weeds poked through the sidewalk at its feet, and various young couples had inscribed their love into its wood. But after sundown, it was reborn, glowing beneath the street lamps and moonlight that varnished nightly.

Jenny had grown accustomed to the omnipresent bench, had in her mind marked the seat as her own. It aged with her—day to day, it remained unchanging, but as she acquired wrinkles and smile lines the bench acquired chips and splinters. So every night she worked late, drove to the grocery store on her way home and sometimes the liquor store, and across the street from men in polyester suits purchasing daily Merlot, the bench slept.

Today, though, the old bench presented an entirely new scene. The October wind nipping at her neck had kept couples off their evening strolls, and she’d left work considerably later. The moon cast a cold glow overhead, like a refrigerator light bulb on its last breaths, and DC had turned to a black and white photograph. The only colors in sight were neon street signs, the buzzing red letters marking the theater, the late night coffeehouse, the liquor store she’d just stepped out of.

Suddenly, Jenny felt old—not physically; no, she felt as though she’d been thrown back in time, to a darker city on a grittier day. She felt less crisp; her sharp haircut felt out of place. October always brought with it the taint of old noir. Something about the cold, windy nights allowed history to encroach on present DC. Jenny didn’t object to it, as long as it went away in time of the holidays.

The centerpiece of the scene was a petite woman in a trenchcoat, her breath turning to fog beneath the streetlight, a violin nestled in the crook of her neck.

She was sharp-faced, severe in the misaligned way Jenny was not. Her blonde hair was loose over her shoulders, her face freckled and weathered. She was perfectly crooked, as if mid-October had manifested in a human body. She played a haunting tune in a minor key.

Jenny stalked across the empty street, her head cocked curiously. “I didn’t know you played,” she said with a wan smile.

Stella Gibson put down her violin. “No rest for the wicked,” she quipped with a rolling British lilt.

“Very Sherlock Holmes of you,” Jenny quipped.

Stella’s eyes drifted to the hotel a block away. “I didn’t want to disturb my neighbors.”

Jenny sat down on the old bench, and it creaked dangerously. “It’s been awhile,” she said softly.

“Yes,” said Stella, “I suppose it has.”

~

“You seem lost. First time in London?” A young blonde dropped onto the stool next to her. “I’ll have a Scotch,” she called to the bartender.

Jenny shook her head. “No. Just tired.” She didn’t talk to strangers, not normally.

The woman held out her hand. “DCI Stella Gibson.”

“Special Agent Jennifer Shepard,” she replied, arching her eyebrow. She had never felt underdressed before this moment, staring at DCI Gibson’s silk blouse and five inch heels. Buttoned up, hair pinned tightly to the back of her head, Jenny felt distinctly uncomfortable. She felt like she was lying—she was certainly not the perfect professional pin-up she portrayed herself to be in front of her superiors. But that was the price of ambition in DC. It was a small price to pay.

“FBI?” Stella asked, tucking an icy blonde curl behind her ear.

Jenny shook her head, taking a sip of her beer. “NCIS.”

A small noise of surprise escaped Stella’s lips. NCIS didn’t likely turn up in a London pub every night.

~

“I was surprised to hear your name when the FBI said they’d brought in a consultant in the Lacy Brown case,” Jenny confessed.

“Your country…” Stella hummed, trailing into silence. Her voice dropped darkly. “Your country isn’t very good at catching sexual predators.”

Jenny snorted. “No shit.” Then her expression grew solemn as the implications of Stella’s words sank in. “No,” she mused. “No we’re not. I wish that could change.”

Stella cocked her head. “Then change it. You’re the director of NCIS now.” She paused. “First female director of an armed federal agency. That’s something, Jennifer.”

~

“We’ve never had a female director,” admitted Jenny with a grim chuckle. She took a swig of her beer. “Men see female ambition as an affront to their masculinity. It’s a shame, but I guess it leaves the title to me one day.”

Stella cocked her eyebrow. “Going to claw your way through the ranks of misogyny and militarism?”

Jenny nodded staunchly. “Yep. Prove them all wrong.”

“What to do then?”

She shrugged. “Shift our outlook on national security. Advocate for all the women in government jobs who don’t get their due. I’ve got the kinds of ideas that only work if implemented in a high place.”

~

Jenny sighed wistfully. “It’s something,” she said, “but it’s not all I hoped. I have to demand the kind of formal respect from my agents that my predecessors didn’t. Don’t get me wrong; I’m trying to change the system, but I didn’t expect so much condescension on the political end.”

Stella pursed her lips. “I felt the same condescension when I was promoted to Detective Superintendent. I know that most of my female colleagues have felt the same. It breeds isolation, anxiety, overwhelming pressure.”

Jenny was no stranger to those demons, all burdens she’d born since college. Perhaps even longer, if she willed herself to remember.

“Is that why you brought the violin?” she asked, eyeing the sleek, russet violin on Stella’s lap.

The detective shook her head. She looked older in the moonlight, her profile more defined. Like she was slowly, constantly falling from grace and was happy of it. Jenny would be happy of it too. Grace was overrated.

~

“Come back to my flat, Special Agent Jennifer Shepard.”

The offer was forward, tempting, and hardly a surprise. Stella Gibson sat with her legs spread in dark slacks and her elbows in her lap. She smelled of mahogany, roses, and hard liquor; her voice carried a swagger. There was a confidence about her demeanor that Jenny found quite irresistible. She’d always been drawn to the strong, taciturn John Wayne types, the weathered cowboy types who sought justice and spoke everything deliberately. But a man didn’t always understand the fine distinctions between strength and hyper-masculinity, handsome chivalry and condescending chauvinism. Stella Gibson certainly saw the line clear as day.

Jenny glanced at her watch. She didn’t have to report until 8:00 the next morning.

“Come to my hotel room?” she suggested with a curve of her cherry red lips.

Stella cocked her head, and in the dim light, Jenny noticed freckles adorning her aquiline nose and angular cheeks. They fit, somehow.

“All right, Jennifer.” Stella waved the bartender over. “Lead on.”

~

“What were you playing?” Jenny asked. “On the violin, I mean.”

Stella shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest clue. I learned it as a child.”

“It sounds melancholy.”

“So does every piece on the violin.” Stella smiled thinly, her blue-grey eyes wide sad in the moonlight.

~

“You have owl’s eyes,” A cold blue-grey, round and wise and curious. Jenny could hold her liquor with eloquence, but it came at the expense of thinking before she spoke.

“Do I?” Stella whispered, and Jenny couldn’t tell whether she was flattered or taken aback.

~

Stella put the violin aside and leaned her elbows on her knees. Jenny ran her fingers through newly cropped copper hair. Sharply dressed, still but for the wind, they became statues to the rare passerby. Their hair and sleeves ruffled discreetly, their eyes drifted about, but their bodies clung to the bench as if they were drowning, and the bench’s rotting wood was the life raft the city had thrown to them.

The moon vanished behind a blanket of thickening clouds that roiled and danced within themselves. Jenny had always been fond of cloudy nights. “When you said we should see each other again, this wasn’t what I expected,” she said, pulling her coat tighter over her shoulders.

“Well I didn’t expect to see you again,” replied Stella softly. “I didn’t expect I would want to see you again. But you rather intrigued me.”

“I’d ask if it was the sex or the wit, but I’m not certain I want to know the answer.”

“Well,” Stella chuckled, “it was very good sex.”

~

She pulled apart the buttons on Stella’s blouse, careful not to rip the thin material. They were alike, she noted, in their tastes for lingerie. Their personal elegance, for no satisfaction but their own. Stella’s lips captured hers; Stella’s tongue grazed her teeth. She reached for the clasp on the detective’s elaborate bra and pulled it off.

Jenny rested her hands on Stella’s hips, still in slacks, and broke the kiss for air. Her bare back pressed against the wall of her hotel room, and she could hear, far below her, swing playing from a shop on the street. Not the usual, energetic swing, but the slow, sultry blues.

She’d once been told that she had the voice of a jazz singer. It wasn’t true; Jenny couldn’t sing to save her life. But in this moment, a throaty moan escaping her lips, she understood the remark. She and Stella Gibson, their voices shared a common thread, a deep roughness that only came with trials and vices. Stella’s fingers found the edge of her skirt, and a shiver danced up her spine as they slipped inside. She bumped against the detective’s nose, clumsily searching for her lips, eventually giving up and kissing her way to the hollow of Stella’s collarbone.

Stella’s hands pushed up her skirt, tugged her to the queen bed, with few formalities found their way to her aching center. The muffled swing music rippled in and out of her hearing, as if she were miles beneath the ocean surface. As if mermaids were femme fatales with record players and pistols and police titles.

~

“I wish we’d kept in better touch,” Jenny admitted, as a nearly empty restaurant across the street played Billboard’s Top 100. She liked Stella’s music better.

Stella closed her owl's eyes. “It’s nice to have someone scaling the mountain with you.”

“You’re quite a remarkable person, Detective-Superintendent Gibson.”

“As are you, Director Shepard.”

Jenny gathered her purse. “I should go,” she said flatly. She stood, as if to leave, then froze in place as Stella reached for her violin and bow. “Will you be here later?”

“I might play one more song. Clears the mind.”

“Come back with me.” Jenny turned around, catching Stella’s eye as she tuned the delicate instrument in her lap. Her lips spread inadvertently into a playful smirk. “Come away with me, Stella Gibson,” she teased as if the slight tremble in her voice was entirely undetectable. Stella’s eyes, she mused, would always startle her, as would the genuine admiration she had for this stern, mysterious detective perched on her rotting bench in October. She was completely sober this time, and the words on her lips didn’t slip so easily as they had in London, years before.

Stella returned the smile like Peter Pan’s shadow and rose to her feet. “Perhaps my hotel room? It’s closer.”

[spynotebook]

From Ramon Gil:

For decades, writer Elliot S. Maggin and I have had a rather one-sided relationship. Not only was he responsible for most of my childhood reading consumption, Superman comics in the ’70s, but he was also the author of the first two novels I ever read as a kid. Years later, as I was starting out as a comic book illustrator, it turned out that the husband of one of my best friends was acquainted with his cousin-in-law…or something like that. But before introductions could be made, the industry tanked in 1994 and I went into advertising. Twenty-plus years later, I decided to give comics another shot and managed to “Friend” Elliot on Facebook — and now here we are.

Elliot was the definitive Superman writer for over 15 years, pens novels and even ran for political office. My questions for him are endless but I managed to cut it down to a few. Here are his answers:

Ramon Gil: Can you tell us about how you broke into comics? You were 17. What was it like back in the ’70s?

Elliot S. Maggin: I was 19, actually, a junior in college. I had dropped scripts or ideas for scripts on comics editors here and there, but nothing seemed to stick. I had written op-ed pieces that The New York Times wasn’t interested in, but I had written some stuff for a few other newspapers and I had one piece of published fiction — so I knew it was possible. That was what I did when I was 17, got my first prose story published.

I was expecting to follow up college with law school. I had this famous professor send a hot recommendation for me to NYU Law and they’re still waiting for the application. If I decided to go into law now, I don’t suppose that recommendation would hold any water anymore. So in my junior year I was taking an American history class with this guy who actually won a Pulitzer a couple of years later, and this guy was kind of a pompous pedagogic sort. I asked the graduate assistant doing the grading if I could include a comic book script in a term paper on the history of media. He said sure, so I wrote a paper illustrating that comics were a viable political tool, and part of the paper was the script for an original Green Arrow story called “What Can One Man Do?”

I got a B-plus on the damn thing, and I asked the grad assistant why. He said he understood that I was going to illustrate the story too. So I got cranky and sent the thing to Carmine Infantino, who was publisher at DC Comics – National Periodical Publications in those days, actually (it wasn’t just pedagogues who were a little full of themselves in the ’70s, I guess) — and next thing I knew, I had an effusive letter from Julie Schwartz telling me he’d like me to try writing some of his other characters. At Julie’s request, I shortened my Green Arrow script from 20 to 13 pages and he bought it. That’s how it started. I’m told it hasn’t happened that way before or since.

RG: I’ve heard it said that once someone finds a “new way” to break into comics, they quickly shut that way down. So when Julie bought your script, was there any excitement about “breaking in” or did you just take it in stride?

ESM: It was a big deal. I was still an undergraduate living in a dorm, for heaven’s sakes. The sociology and American studies departments were all over it. I was second-ranking guy on the Brandeis campus newspaper editorial board, so I had a reputation as a good writer – although my editor-in-chief at the time, Richie Galant later of Newsday, has a Pulitzer hanging on the wall in his den these days. I think I’ve just got too damn many friends with Pulitzer Prizes for anything short of that to be much of a big deal.

RG: At what point were you freelancing and at what point were you on staff? Can you describe the progression?

ESM: As a writer I was never on staff. It was always month to month, meeting to meeting, for something like 20 years on-and-off. It was a bitch trying to buy a house. I never had, nor was I offered, what they called a “freelance contract,” which seemed like a contradiction in terms anyway. When I was an editor briefly from late 1988 to mid-1990 that was a staff position, but by then I was used to being my own boss. It was kind of a zoo. Nice health care coverage, though.

RG: Was this something you always wanted to do? How did you get into reading comic books?

ESM: I suspect I learned to read through street signs and comic books. I had a barber and a dentist in Brooklyn when I was a kid both of whom had loads and loads of comic books for people waiting to get a haircut or get their teeth drilled. I would pick up a comic book, and distract myself with it through my haircut or my dentist visit and generally they’d tell me to take them home with me. I guess I was about five or six when I realized that if you actually read the panel captions — instead of ignoring them like the introduction to The Scarlet Letter — you found out interesting and somewhat vital information. I didn’t realize Superman and Clark were the same guy, for example, until I found that information in the captions.

I didn’t really see myself writing comics, though, until the writing got lots better. With Denny O’Neil’s Green Lantern/Green Arrow stories 12 or 15 years later, for example, I started noticing that comics scripts could be the source of some really good storytelling. I didn’t so much notice, with those stories, that comics were a thing I might be able to do, but rather something I’d like to be able to do.

RG: At the time, did you feel you had taken the medium as far as it could go or did you feel that there was even more potential in terms of storytelling?

ESM: I certainly never felt I had taken the medium as far as it would go. I hadn’t even taken it as far as I could have pushed it with some lighter oversight. I wanted to get out there and work in other media, certainly, but storytelling in comics is still nowhere near where it could be. I’ve done academic papers on it.

RG: Oh man, I would love to read those papers! You obviously had an affinity for Superman, having penned him for as long as you did. How did you get that plum assignment?

ESM: I swear, it seemed no one but Cary Bates and I really wanted to write Superman stories. The character seemed passé, I think, even to people writing comics for a living. Denny (O’Neil) wrote Superman for more than a year before I showed up, and Len Wein did a bit too. But Denny just never much liked the character. He did some of the best work with the character I had ever seen, but he seemed to think it was just too unrealistic. He wanted grit. He wanted real life. So he decided he’d rather do stories about a bored, pissed-off billionaire who put on a costume and went around beating up bad guys every night. Realistic, he insisted. Go figure. It always seemed to me that a transplanted alien baby with super-powers was much more likely than that.

RG: Speaking of Cary Bates, how on Earth-Prime did he wrangle you into being part of the story in JLA #123-124? As a 9-year old boy, that really confused me as to whether or not superheroes were real! Did you guys fight over who got to be a villain and did Schwartz really call you “Magoon?”

ESM: Okay, Cary and I set a record for writing a full 24-page script on JLA #124. We started from scratch between 10 and 10:30 in the morning and we handed in the finished script as Julie was getting back from lunch at 1:00. And that included an hour-long subway ride. It confused a few of the grownups at the office as to whether or not superheroes were real too. I suspect there are guys still looking for the cosmic treadmill in hidden closets up there. We didn’t take that one seriously at all. It was like the Laffer Curve in economics. It was a joke that everyone else was taking seriously — except after a while even Arthur Laffer started to claim the crazy-ass theory he scribbled on a napkin as a grad student is for real, despite the fact that it’s been proved demonstrably wrong over and over.

Ryan and McConnell and the gang are still trotting it out for every budget debate. Cary and I figured the idea was to go so far over the top writing ourselves into a story that no one would ever do it again. And then — ka-POW! — along comes Grant Morrison making himself pivotal as a god figure in Animal Man and dozens of other people climb aboard over the years. I guess what our story really did was make it safe for writers like Grant to appear intelligent in fiction. Cary won a coin toss so he got to wear a costume and be the villain. And yes, Julie called me “Magoon” every chance he got. He found it amusing, although he was the only one.

RG: Were there any other books or characters you enjoyed working on?

ESM: All of them. I loved Green Arrow, because even with his overarching sense of self-importance I could make the guy funny. I even liked Batman a lot because it seemed to me the plots had to be pretty intricate and once you did the advance work figuring out where everything had to fit they pretty much wrote themselves. I liked writing stories about the girl characters: Supergirl, Bat-Girl, Wonder Woman. Always had a mad crush on Wonder Woman. Still do.

RG: Who doesn’t? I thought Lynda Carter was hot, but Gal Gadot is badass AND smoking! Any thoughts on the new Superman movies?

ESM: Nope. None. ‘Scuse me I’ve got to go write some more notes in my copy of Atlas Shrugged…

RG: Okay…any books or characters that you didn’t get to write that you wish you had? If so, why those?

ESM: Among DC characters, I always wanted to do Green Lantern — and Denny, who was writing GL, was always partial to Green Arrow — but Julie insisted the assignments were more properly placed where he put them. I wrote some for Marvel too over the years, but I always wanted to write Kull the Conqueror and Doctor Strange (LOVE Doctor Strange) but I never got the chance. If there’s anyone paying attention out there who’d like to commission a wild, weird-as-shit Doctor Strange novel, please call. You know where to find me.

RG: Ah yes, Dr. Strange. When I got your two books as a Christmas gift, the third book was a Doctor Strange paperback. Have you seen the movie?

ESM: I thought it was the best movie Marvel has ever released. Just so cool. I’ve been to Kathmandu, too. I think all those scenes were from a part of town called the Durbur District. I bought turmeric from a girl on the street there whose family have been selling spices in that street market for over a thousand years. Maybe sold turmeric to Marco Polo. I think even people who think Logan was the best Marvel movie think Doctor Strange was at least the second best one.

RG: My only problem was that it seemed to have more “martial arts” than “mystic arts”

ESM: Quibble quibble. Doesn’t it qualify as mystic arts if you drop-kick someone into the spirit dimension, no matter how perfect your kicking form is?

RG: In 1978 you came out with Superman: Last Son of Krypton, First in Warner’s New Series of Superman Novels and later on Superman: Miracle Monday. Were the novels your idea that you pushed for or where you tapped?

ESM: It was my idea. I told pretty much everyone I knew that what I wanted to do was write books. When I wrote a film treatment for a Superman movie and first Alfred Bester and then Mario Puzo showed up at the office to talk about writing Superman I decided my treatment and I were in over our head. But I went upstairs to Warner Books and managed to sell my treatment as an outline for a novel. The original plan was for it to come out midway between the releases of the first and second Superman movies to keep excitement up. I understood they were going to publish a novelization of the movie – which my book was decidedly not – but Mario Puzo had snagged the rights to produce a book (my brother tells me that Mario’s son Gene was supposed to write it; turned out they were high school pals) but soon it became clear that the producers’ plan all along was to use Mario’s name to sell the movie and get someone else to write the real script. Mario’s original script – except for the ending – was damn good, by the way, and Mario was pissed. I’ve read that the powers that be just didn’t want to pay the price of a book Mario oversaw, but I don’t think that was the issue. I think he blocked a novelization of the script from happening – so my book, Last Son of Krypton, was released as though it was the same story as the movie. Lots of people were disappointed when they found out it wasn’t, but people read it, and a lot of them liked it. The thing sold off the hook.

RG: “Last Son of Krypton” and “Miracle Monday” were the first novels I ever read as a kid. The depth of detail, the richness of the characters and the integration of historical figures really opened my eyes as to what fiction writing could be. Were these things that you’d been wanting to do for a long time or were these “exercises” that were forced upon you by the medium.

ESM: So I was how you learned what you can do with novels? Hah!

RG: Oh yeah, I think that was the year I wrote a story in class and the principal had to have a talk with my folks about how good it was!

ESM: You must’ve had the same principal I did, the ignoramus.

RG: I grew up in a country where English wasn’t the primary language. Metaphors were a big deal!

ESM: One of the cool things about writing novels is that there isn’t much forced on you by the medium. Structurally, they’re pretty freewheeling, and when literary talent scouts like literary journals and small magazines and look for unknown talent, what they’re often looking for are people who are willing to try new things with the language and the prose. You can write a novel that’s a string of correspondence and responses. You can put a novel into first-, third- or even second-person narrative, or set the tense however you think best tells the story. Generally novels are not at all visual, and you can use that characteristic to withhold information from readers – or characters – until a crucial moment; mystery and thriller writers do that a lot.

I didn’t do much that was innovative in terms of structure or storytelling with those two books, but because I had been working primarily in comics for years when I wrote them – in a medium that depends on artists to convey visual information – I was very spare in my visual descriptions. Instead of describing the way a person looks, I tended to let the character’s actions or manner fill in that information. The process of storytelling in novels, very often, is about choices, about what to hold back. Because of my experience in comics, I think in my novels I have been able to concentrate on metaphor and example when otherwise I might have gone a little overboard trying to make up for the medium’s limitations where that wasn’t really necessary.

RG: Any influences as far as other authors or writing styles?

ESM: Contemporary or modern writers I like are Vonnegut, William Goldman, Orwell, Ellison, Isaac Singer, Asimov and others. Love Bradbury too, but I can’t see that his work was influential in my work, as opposed to stuff I just wanted to read. As far as the people who pretty much invented the medium, I’ve always thought Mark Twain was head-and-shoulders above anyone else. Hemingway is up there and so is Steinbeck. The thing about Steinbeck is you can hear the gravel in his voice through his narrative. I’ve got no idea how he does that. Stephen King (the world’s most under-rated novelist) has this habit of evoking a reader’s proximity by picking metaphors that slide into the narrative subject matter – if he’s talking about food something will be as white as cream cheese; if he’s talking about mortal danger the same thing will be as white as a corpse’s eyelids. Steinbeck didn’t do that; someday maybe I’ll study Winter of Our Discontent and Grapes of Wrath enough to figure out how he does it.

RG: What kind of reaction did you get from comic readers and the industry in general when these were released?

ESM: Seriously, I don’t think I met anyone who read Last Son of Krypton until eight or ten years after I wrote it. I always had this fantasy of seeing all these secretaries in the subway who crowded on the train in Jackson Heights sitting in a row across from me all buried in copies of my book. Never happened. I know for a fact that no one (NO ONE!) at DC read the first book before it came out because the business about the stolen Xerox copiers – the reason the Xerox book club ordered 50-thousand copies – would never have made it into the final manuscript. They were so paranoid up there that you couldn’t mention any commercial product or property, even if it was arguably to that product’s benefit. Sometime in the late Eighties I got a call from Mark Waid who wanted to talk about the books. Mark was writing for fan publications back then and he treated me to a really good lunch at a Chinese restaurant for which I’ll be eternally grateful.

RG: I owe you lunch at a Chinese restaurant then.

ESM: I did get some terrific fan mail through Warner Books on both novels, and Last Son sold something like 450-thousand copies to someone or other, so I guess the response of the world in general was lots more significant than that of the industry.

RG: Was there any desire or attempts to do novelizations of other DC characters?

ESM: I don’t know. I wasn’t in that loop, and no one asked me to do any more books like that until I did the Kingdom Come novel fifteen years later. Paul Levitz slipped me a script for Superman III, wondering if I’d like to do an actual novelization. When I read it I didn’t even want to go see the movie (and I haven’t). By the time I got involved with Kingdom Come, people were adapting comics series into novels pretty routinely, and DC, Marvel and Dark Horse had developed a set of contractual standards for novel adaptations that were far more restrictive than those I had negotiated earlier. Around the time I wrote my Superman books Len Wein and Marv Wolfman wrote a Spider-Man novel together that was pretty good, but there was not much else as far as I can recall.

RG: Up until the 70s and early 80s, comic books were being written mostly for kids and teens. And for decades, most of these readers would just outgrow comics. But then in the 90s the stories became more serious, more complex, sometimes darker. You could say they “matured.” Can you share your thoughts on this trend in the comic industry and how you took part, if at all?

ESM: Julie Schwartz used to tell me that his old buddy who preceded him as Superman editor, Mort Weisinger, always said that he was doing fairy tales for children. “Once upon a time in the offices of the Daily Planet …” If in Julie’s judgment the kid audience couldn’t really grok a story I’d have to come up with something else altogether. But then again, my first Superman story, “Must There Be a Superman?” was about space opera and bad guys and distinctive visuals, but what it was really about was the sociological implications of having an omnipotent being around to bail us out of disasters. I think kids can understand all that stuff. The trick is making it simple enough for editors to understand too.

RG: Are you reading comics now? Any favourites?

ESM: I’m not really. I read The March trilogy by Lewis, Aydin and Powell not long ago. Thought that was terrific stuff.

RG: You eventually left monthly comics. Would you mind telling us about that and what it was like to move to a new career/industry?

ESM: Comics was never really what I wanted to do forever. But writing was. At one time, law and politics were my real long-term interests, but it occurred to me I wasn’t really much good at either. Right now, I spend most of my time working with a big string of hospitals teaching doctors and nurses how to use their software. A doctor said the other day that my job is basically my hobby. I said yeah, pretty much, but what the job is really about is a scheme to get my kids through college. Now they’re both grown and suitably degreed and my daughter told me a few years ago I was allowed to go out and play now – which I’ve been doing more and more the past few years. I think what I’d like to do for a career when I leave my current job is collect third-world countries and off-the-beaten-path experiences.

RG: The road less traveled! So getting back to Kingdom Come. How did your involvement come about?

ESM: So Mark calls me up and says he wants me to do a novel based on Kingdom Come and have I seen the comics series. I hadn’t, but how would I feel about doing the book. I said I really didn’t want to do it. I had just written a book based on a comics series and it wasn’t so much fun. Mark said he’d send me what he had so far: two published issues of Kingdom Come, lettered pencils of a third one and the script of the fourth. I said I always liked his sensibilities about this stuff, but unless DC was going to offer me the same deal they’d given me years earlier for Miracle Monday I didn’t see how I could do it. So he sent me the stuff, I read it, and when I got to the end of the script of the last book I saw he dedicated the damn thing to me. So I called him back and said he’d put me in a lousy bargaining position by doing that. Now I had to write it.

They have a really horrendous licensing agreement with novels now; nothing like what I had negotiated years earlier for Miracle Monday, and they are pretty rigid about it. So I told them I’d go along with their appalling royalty arrangement if at long last they’d reprint Last Son and Miracle Monday. They said sure, yeah, whatever, but that was a separate negotiation and we’d have to do it after we nailed down Kingdom Come. So I wrote Kingdom Come and after that no one was interested in talking any more about what else I wanted to publish.

Negotiate first and do the work later. Live and learn.

RG: What about Generation X? I think that was your first Marvel novel, can you tell us a little about that?

ESM: It was my only Marvel novel. I did it because Scott Lobdell is a friend and I wanted to get my feet wet doing novels again. It got cut up to fit the word count they wanted so I didn’t think it made as much narrative sense as I liked, but I did a comic book adaptation of it later (Does that qualify as a graphic novel?) that was a bunch of fun. I decided probably it was time I stopped looking to do licensed material and do my own. So besides exercising my reprint agreement on Miracle Monday, that’s what I’m doing now.

RG: From the 90s to the early 2000s, you also worked on a few films. I’d love to hear more about some of them. Were these your own projects or where you brought in primarily to write?

ESM: Nothing ever got out the door, but that’s generally the way it works. I did a script called Junior Sheriff based on an idea from a producer who never got the script into production. I did a couple of scripts for films based on Norse mythology – one on spec and the other on assignment. I spent years doing film and television scripts on spec or for early stages of projects that didn’t go the distance. I found I wasn’t writing for an audience so much as I was selling options. You can make a pretty good living that way, but you might as well be working on Wall Street. I always said I’d rather be read than paid, and I would. So now every minute I can, I sit in a room and make shit up. That’s what I love to do. I got an ebook out on Amazon last year called Not My Closet – all original stuff and very rarely does any character fly under his own power or wear Spandex. I’m currently working on getting a print version out.

RG: Ha ha! I love that! “said I’d rather be read than paid.” I’d use it as a pull-quote but future publishers might use it against you when negotiating.

ESM: Hey be my guest. Please. Listen: anytime anyone negotiates his way out of a work-for-hire contract an angel gets his wings.

RG: Did you ever direct or have any desire to?

ESM: Nope. Never got that bug.

RG: Let’s talk more about “Not My Closet.” was this a book you’d been wanting to tell for a long time? What was your personal stake in this story?

ESM: It’s a story for which I put aside some other projects and to which I’ve since gone back. It was one of the more difficult things I’ve ever written, and my first book about apparently real people. Some of it is based on real stuff from my life, most of it is made-up. The version out there is my fifth draft. I mean like a full-blown novel written five times. I never took more than four months to write anything before – a book, a story, a script, anything – and this took more like five or six years. Really. Putting it out there taught me one important thing: it seems I don’t know a damn thing about marketing. I’m working on that. Thanks for asking.

RG: That’s ok. I’ve spent the last 20 years in advertising and I’m still having a hell of a time marketing my own work.

ESM: Let me know if you come up with any good tricks. Like maybe making people believe a book is a movie tie-in when it isn’t. Stuff like that.

RG: Brilliant move on your part. Not sure if you could do it twice, though! So now we have this reissue and audio book of Miracle Monday. Why that instead of Last Son of Krypton which came out first?

ESM: Contractual reasons. I put a clause in the original Miracle Monday contract that provides for reissuing the book if it’s been out of print for five years. It’s been about 35. The journalist A.J. Liebling used to say “Freedom of the press is guaranteed only to those who own one.” It occurred to me that now that we live in the twenty-first century we all pretty much own one. So I put together a publishing corporation, applied some of my programming skills and got the book out the door. As I write this, the audiobook is unfinished – mostly because I’ve been nursing a virus for the past few weeks and my voice hasn’t been up to completing the last two chapters of Miracle Monday. I’m doing the reading myself not because I’m too cheap to hire an actor – which I guess I am too – but because I want there to be no doubt as to where Metropolis is. You’ll be able to hear it in my voice.

We’ll get working on Last Son of Krypton when we see how this shakes down.

RG: I hope so. Last Son is actually my favorite of the two. I mean Einstein!

ESM: I like Einstein. He’s in Not My Closet too.

RG: You’ve always been a very active in politics. You even ran for office at one point. Has there ever been a desire to write political fiction? Inject your own views heavily into your comics or novels?

ESM: I think when I was interviewing for colleges – when I was 16 or 17 – I really wanted to write that stuff and I told interviewers so. They always wanted to know about what I was reading, and my recreational reading at the time was pretty eclectic. So I’d talk about Fletcher Knebel or Irving Wallace and then I’d bring up McLuhan or Orwell or Huxley, who were all fascinating to me. My interviewers seemed much more interested in talking about the latter. I still like stories about political intrigue, and I’m doing a trilogy of those types of novels now, but they also involve time travel so I don’t know what kind of category they’d fit into.

RG: I love writing about the political aspect of stories! What’s NotFakeNews.org?

ESM: NotFakeNews.org is a website I came up with one weekend afternoon when I was sitting in Starbucks writing and a couple of friends showed up and I insisted they hang around and rescue me from being productive. It was when Donald Trump was president-elect, I think, and somebody – maybe I did – said we should publish material that was specifically labeled “Not Fake News.” We thought this was uproariously funny, and before the afternoon was over we set up both a website at NotFakeNews.org and a Facebook page of the same name. Whenever I come across an article somewhere that ought to be made up stuff but isn’t – scientists stashing climate data on a Canadian server so it can’t be trashed by the climate-deniers who run the EPA at the moment; speculations about the eleven-dimensional universe and the nature of reality; a lot of the stuff Matt Taibbi writes for Rolling Stone; like that – I try to upload it and cite its source.. Not many people have noticed it, as far as I can tell, but it’s a lot of fun. I’m especially proud of the way I set it up to display in four columns feeding from a database. I’m a programming geek; wrote the interface mostly in ColdFusion.

RG: I think you just need to add some social media links so people can “share” the site. What were some of the hurdles (political, logistical, legal) you had to deal with in getting Miracle Monday out again?

ESM: It helps to know how to program. It also helps to have a good lawyer. Hi Phil.

RG: It just occurred to me…what did you write the Superman novels on? A word processor? Did you have to have Miracle Monday transcribed for the ebook?

ESM: I wrote those two novels on a manual Olympia typewriter. It used to follow me around wherever I went. I had some transcribing help this time around.

RG: Was there any temptation to tweak or rewrite?

ESM: No rewriting, and I managed to keep any tweaking to a minimum – mostly grammar and usage. The story is kind of suspended in time with Eighties expressions and cultural references, and I like it that way.

RG: So what’s next for Elliot S. Maggin? Any thoughts to going back to doing monthly books? You mentioned you want to do creator-owned.

ESM: Times have changed since the last quarter of the last century and so have I. Owning your own stuff and getting it out in the wind is much more possible than it was a thousand years ago. Again, I’m trying to learn something about marketing. Turns out that’s a real discipline a guy needs to master. Who knew?

RG: Do you have a preference between prose and comics? What would you say the appeal is for each medium?

ESM: I like prose a bit more these days, only because the product is something that comes from just me. No collaborators necessary. But comics are the people’s medium. I think any given comic book we produce today has a better shot at immortality than any given chunk of prose, all things being equal.

RG: If you could do whatever you want, what would be your ultimate dream project?

ESM: At the moment, it’s my political time travel trilogy. To make it my dream project I think I want to get on a train in St Petersburg and take my laptop on the Trans-Siberian Railroad, write like a demon, watch the snow settle on the steppes and drink vodka with leggy Russian babes all the way to Beijing.

Ramon Gil is a comic book writer and the creator of The Hard Code, The Men from DARPA and Senturies, now on Kickstarter.

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