So, for this next thing, I just wanted to write a few words and begin to think of how to charcaterize Hannibal by writing from his perspective. Plus, I may entertain the thought of writing from my main charcater's POV rather than a 3rd person omniscient.
I was being crushed.
Intense pressure permeated the museum. Something big is in here. Ambient energy tends to flow into me. It is how I make with the magic. The amount of juice flowing into my body, now, felt like I was an empty swimming pool being filled by a tidal wave. The nearest I can think of experiencing such a presence was being close to my teacher, Damonlark. I could feel a small ache in my body as the power flowed into me from its source. The problem here is that I can feel it crashing all over me. The whole building could be the source of this disturbance.
I can't tell how much ambient power there is. Reaching the point of equilibrium with such a large amount of energy tends to take a while. If whatever is permeating this building has an external source of magical power, then there is no limit to how much energy I'll be swallowing. I quickly began to scan my surroundings.
My ability to use magic may depend on how much magical energy is being brought into the room, but I'll always have my eidictic memory. The walls of the museum were lined with the fossils of long dead creatures. Nothing too big, perhaps a few trilobytes, some plant impressions, and dinosaur footprints. Up on the roof, though, hung the fossilized remains of a prehistoric fish the size of a shark. In the center of the room were the remains of a few dinosaurs about the size or slightly bigger than a normal human. No massive monsers here.
The only people around the room were a few police officers taking a break from the investigation into the stolen viking horde. Someone who I can only assume is a top level museum employee is with a few of the officers too. She's asking a few questions, trying to determine how much longer the investigation may take until the building can start to be repaired.
No one seems to be paying any mind to the swelling mystical pressure inside the room. It figures. Even magicly attuned people can't normally tell who's a practicer of the arts and who is not, let alone determine how strong a person really is. Reputation and shows of force tend to be the best barometers. So that makes me an exception, and I can quickly find out if I'm getting in over my head or not. A problem though is when I'm being a bit overwhelmed, like now, I'll begin to act a bit wobbly.
My body heaves slightly, and sweat begins to form on my brow. The power is still rising within me and I don't think I'll be reaching a balance with what is in the room soon. One of the officers come sover to check on me as I stumble a bit around the room. Its not a great way to show that you belong in such a situation. "Hey Hannibal, losing your nerve?"
I respond, "Bad eggs, kid." I'm turning into a canary in a coal mine. That wasn't why I was brought here, but that's the situation as its standing.
A few more peple walk into the room. It looks like a reporter and a police officer. The thumping of my heart and throbing in my head aren't giving me a chace to catch the conversation.
I can feel a shift, now. The power int he room is beginning to coalesce into something. Its shrinking down to a spot, but it isn't getting any weaker. At least now I can follow where its going if I wasn't busy about to fall over onto the floor.
This exerience has taught me the best way to pull everyone towards you and away from possible danger is to feign a heart attack. Almost every person in the room stops to come look at the guy convulsing and groaning. That gives me a chance to try and check how the energy is moving. Gasping for breath, I attempt to use some of the power gathering in me to erect a wall of force around the people puzzling over my reaction to broken walls and debris. Obviously I'm very distraught over this. I'm way too self conscious, but I like to display a bit of competence in being able to leave my apartment.
Thankfully my episode begins to subside. I can still feel the magic in the room, but it feel slike my body is growing accustomed to the amount of power coming at me. I can breathe a bit mor esteady as I begin to consciously listen to the questiosn being asked me. One of the museum people is askign me, "Do you need to go to a hospital? How'd you get in here?"
My mouth hadn't caugh up to the rest of my body. Strain can make me say the darndest things. I good old incoherent, "Uwaaaaaah?" escapes my lips, certifying that, yes, I may in fact be slow to the res tof the people aroudn me. Just some guy with no sense who stumbled into the room. Thanks mysterious super magical presence. You've ruined my chance to talk to any of the fine women here. I can't wait to hear the rumors.
Just as I was finished chastizing myself for having an allergic reaction to massively strong sources of power, I noticed where the energy was beginning to really settle into the room. I released some of the stored energy in my body in a wave of force, blowing fossils and relics across the room into the wall. Mouths gasp i shock at what is happening but I begin to stagger up. A few "Om my!"s echo through the room, some wide eyed surprise from a few of the cops looks to me and back at the wall, the reporter was a bit blow away by the force I made. However, it didn't tae long for people to see what I was feeling. Screams began to erupt around me as 3 sets of dinosaur bones rise from the mess across the room, recomposing themselves from the debris I shattered them into. The creatures shook themselves as if they were shaking off dirt, and turned their eyeless heads in my direction. People in the room began to run out as I was able to stand again. One of the officers was pulling on my arm, trying to drag me out. I casually shrugged him off, telling him "No, its fine. I got next."
I approached the three starting with a stagger, but everntually into a cautious advance. They begin to curiously watch my movements through their empty skulls, then began to slowly circle around me.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Hannibal's room
A sudden cold spreads across Hannibal Moxy's faces. He rises in surprise. His eyes a wide and anxious. He sucks in breathes of air and his heart thumps a 100 beats a minute. He lifts ahand to wipe the water from his face and casts a few quick glances over his surroundings. To his right is John Forbush, an old friend from school.
Hannibal spits a few bits of water out of his mouth, and asks, "Jesus, John. What'd you do that for?"
John Forbush grabs a chair, and sits down, placing the empty water jug on a night stand next to Hannibal's bed. John replies, "Asking nicely wasn't working."
John takes a sweepign look across the room. Littered around the floor are diagrams of circles and mathematical equations about them. He can barely understand them all but is troubled by what he sees. John asks, "Hannibal, what have you been doing all this time?"
Hannibal rises off the bed and stretches. He is not sure how long he has been asleep but he can feel the suns rays beating through the windows. He reckons it must be 10 or 11 in the morning. "Damon left me here after school. Says the ambient magic in the area can keep me powered for how ever long I need it. The circles are my pet project."
God I feel like I can do so much more with this. I just wanted to ge tsomethign on paper so I can mull it over and really work on it in the future. IDK if I want to keep his name John Forbush, but I needed a placeholder. I need more detailed setting information. I've been reading about voice and person, too recently, and how if I use third person, I should always keep it trained on one person at least for the chapter, and not use it to examine whats going through another character's head. I know i've used the 3rd person to talk abotu Hannibal and John's feelings in this brief write up.
Hannibal spits a few bits of water out of his mouth, and asks, "Jesus, John. What'd you do that for?"
John Forbush grabs a chair, and sits down, placing the empty water jug on a night stand next to Hannibal's bed. John replies, "Asking nicely wasn't working."
John takes a sweepign look across the room. Littered around the floor are diagrams of circles and mathematical equations about them. He can barely understand them all but is troubled by what he sees. John asks, "Hannibal, what have you been doing all this time?"
Hannibal rises off the bed and stretches. He is not sure how long he has been asleep but he can feel the suns rays beating through the windows. He reckons it must be 10 or 11 in the morning. "Damon left me here after school. Says the ambient magic in the area can keep me powered for how ever long I need it. The circles are my pet project."
God I feel like I can do so much more with this. I just wanted to ge tsomethign on paper so I can mull it over and really work on it in the future. IDK if I want to keep his name John Forbush, but I needed a placeholder. I need more detailed setting information. I've been reading about voice and person, too recently, and how if I use third person, I should always keep it trained on one person at least for the chapter, and not use it to examine whats going through another character's head. I know i've used the 3rd person to talk abotu Hannibal and John's feelings in this brief write up.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Enter the Moxy
The doors blow off the hinges of the front entrance to the Brothel. A dazzling array of lights glide through the main lobby of the building, bathing the area in hues of green, yellow, red, and blues. A small band plays in a darkened corner. The sounds of the cello thumps in tune with Hannibal's heart. The trumpet plays a wild tune as the player is shocked by the abrupt entrance. The remaining members of the band fall silent.
In the back of the sits Lars. His legs are splayed and head lolls the the right side as two ladies attend to his body. He is not dressed in any sort of battle gear that most people identify him in. However, Hannibal can feel the power of the immortal viking press against him like a sweltering summer heat.
The blast of unseen force Hannibal used to annihilate the doors dies down. His overcoat drifts ad wafts into a settled position. Hannibal tenses his body, waiting to see Lars' first move. He is not eager for a fight to erupt yet. He wants to allow as much time as possible to elapse, and allow his body to absorb as much ambient mystical enegies as possible.
Lars lifts his lazy head, curious to examine the man who interrupts his quiet time. Lars snaps his fingers and the band resumes their play. The tune is more exciting. The beat is faster and the lights begin to slowly coalesce around Hannibal. The room grows dimmer as the wisps of light are absorbeed into Hannibal.
Some of the working women in the lobby begin to move to the walls. A shocked look in their faces. The darkness begins to creep into the room from the edges towards Hannibal. Lars sits up attentively, looking about himself and watching the light in the room receed towards Moxy. Before he is enveloped into darkness his eyes meet Hannibals, and his mouth breaks into a shape a wolf makes when snarling at an enemy. Then, darkness.
Its silent until lights sine along the wall. Torches illuminate the room and show Hannibal and Lars standing nose to eye of each other. Hannibal notices the Viking is tall, lean, and muscled. Lars' face showed a few days growth of facial hair. His red hair was long and shiny. His voice is smooth. Hannibal was surprised how civilized this man seemed.
I'm not doing so well, thinking of dialog. :(
In the back of the sits Lars. His legs are splayed and head lolls the the right side as two ladies attend to his body. He is not dressed in any sort of battle gear that most people identify him in. However, Hannibal can feel the power of the immortal viking press against him like a sweltering summer heat.
The blast of unseen force Hannibal used to annihilate the doors dies down. His overcoat drifts ad wafts into a settled position. Hannibal tenses his body, waiting to see Lars' first move. He is not eager for a fight to erupt yet. He wants to allow as much time as possible to elapse, and allow his body to absorb as much ambient mystical enegies as possible.
Lars lifts his lazy head, curious to examine the man who interrupts his quiet time. Lars snaps his fingers and the band resumes their play. The tune is more exciting. The beat is faster and the lights begin to slowly coalesce around Hannibal. The room grows dimmer as the wisps of light are absorbeed into Hannibal.
Some of the working women in the lobby begin to move to the walls. A shocked look in their faces. The darkness begins to creep into the room from the edges towards Hannibal. Lars sits up attentively, looking about himself and watching the light in the room receed towards Moxy. Before he is enveloped into darkness his eyes meet Hannibals, and his mouth breaks into a shape a wolf makes when snarling at an enemy. Then, darkness.
Its silent until lights sine along the wall. Torches illuminate the room and show Hannibal and Lars standing nose to eye of each other. Hannibal notices the Viking is tall, lean, and muscled. Lars' face showed a few days growth of facial hair. His red hair was long and shiny. His voice is smooth. Hannibal was surprised how civilized this man seemed.
I'm not doing so well, thinking of dialog. :(
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Before the fight.
Hannibal could feel the shadows crowd around him. The denizens of the unseen darkness want to be privy to a fight between the unusual magician and the underworlds most noted thug. Hannibal knew they were accomplices in Lars destruction in the museum. However, he felt their alien reasoning didn't make them accountable for their part in this mess. He could easily understand. Hannibal feels his own thought processes are alien to this town. He experienced things that no normal person in this world has experienced. He brought a set of core values and beliefs that are constantly questioned by the peculiar way things are done in Everton. With a smirk he resolved to give these dark beings a show for their entertainment.
He could feel the power radiating from Lars' hideout. Proximity to power tells Hannibal what he needs to know. Lars is a powerful entity on a level Hannibal has only experienced once before. He spends a few moments, in order to savor the ambient energy and allowing it to flow into his form. He is now fueled for the fight and swallows a gulp of air, unsure of the outcome.
SO, I might be able to extend this scene a bit farther. IDK if I want to do such a thing. I know Ihavent gone into who Lars is or what his hideout actually is. My goal in this writing was to get back on the horse and establich a shot of a coming battle. I wanted to attempt to signify that other forces are interested in this figh besides Hannibal and his Antagonist. I wanted to indicate that Hannibal feels like an outside in the world he exists. I also wanted to set up how formidable a foe Lars, the Antagonist, is.
He could feel the power radiating from Lars' hideout. Proximity to power tells Hannibal what he needs to know. Lars is a powerful entity on a level Hannibal has only experienced once before. He spends a few moments, in order to savor the ambient energy and allowing it to flow into his form. He is now fueled for the fight and swallows a gulp of air, unsure of the outcome.
SO, I might be able to extend this scene a bit farther. IDK if I want to do such a thing. I know Ihavent gone into who Lars is or what his hideout actually is. My goal in this writing was to get back on the horse and establich a shot of a coming battle. I wanted to attempt to signify that other forces are interested in this figh besides Hannibal and his Antagonist. I wanted to indicate that Hannibal feels like an outside in the world he exists. I also wanted to set up how formidable a foe Lars, the Antagonist, is.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Hey lookit what I found!
Dusty here, remember me? I was the other out of shape, slightly awkard Nerdking on the Pop Media Primecast. Since the show rode into the bittersweet sunset, I've been wading through a murky swamp filled with overbearing responsibility that was made up of 2 parts part-time jobs, 1 part college courses and 3 parts maintianing social life. Well one of those jobs rode into its own chaotic sunflare a few weeks back, I'm wrapping up my self-appointed sentence at Community College in December, and one part of that social life is leaving for the military in a few weeks. So needless to say I now have more time to focus on what was a recurring theme for me throughout the Primecast's golden run, evolving into an established writer.
Dom suggested I pool some of my ideas on this Bloggy-thingy (Scott Pilgrim reference) so you folks can critique and/or instigate a flame war against them. I see he's been busy with his own works, so it looks like I've got some catching up to do. First up I'm going to offer a synopsis of a script I worked on during the show's run. Its about a British metal band as it tours across Eurasia to promote its nomination for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, instead of their career long rivals. Here is an excerpt of The Ballistacrats.
Black. The crowd roars. Over the loudspeaker an announcer yells, "Alright Moscow we want you to go fucking nuts as we bring you the metallic gods...the sirens of solos...the demigods of distortion...the sophisticated savagery that is, The Ballistacrats!" Fade in; panning over the audience leading to a large stage, it fires pyrotechnics like a warship as ERNIE V. pounds on his drums. A soothing bass groove, followed by a screeching guitar riff mix in as SONNY PAUL and PERRY LOU rise from the stage floor. A low growl summons a ring of fire at center stage and JACQUES LeRAGE jumps out of the ring in a furious yell as the band leads into its biggest hit to date, "Spread Eagle."
Security frantically barricades fans from rushing the stage. One woman manages to break free and tackles Sonny. She introduces herself as AMANDA, and claims to be his biggest fan. He jokes, "Sorry babe, but she's my biggest fan." He points out a rather large hambeast of a woman covered in tattoos and piercings screaming at the top of her lungs. Amanda laughs and lunges at Sonny's face before he stops her, asking to delay the impromtu meet and greet until after show, he needs to return to the song. She enthusiastically nods and trots backstage in a giddy frenzy. The rest of the concert becomes lost in a haze of sex, drugs and rock and roll.
Back at the band's tour bus, a television set plays an MTV News segment. Reporter SWAY reports that the upcoming Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction Ceremony will be postponed until the Nomination Comittee can decide on who takes the final spot of this year's induction class, which include Kiss, Thin Lizzy, Lodon Wainwright and in a surprise decision, Zydeco act Wayne Toups. The final spot is currently being debated over two legendary metal acts, The Ballistacrats and their career long rivals, Jack Union.
At the very utterance of that name Ernie V. hurls one of his drumsticks at the television, breaking it. He exclaims as he rises from a chair, "Jack Union? Fuck those wankers!" The rest of the band agrees, except for Sonny, who is locking lips with the groupie from earlier. They stop for a moment so Sonny can assure Ernie V. that he shouldn't worry. "If the band doesn't make the cut, they're is always next year." Ernie V. turns and directs his anger at Sonny by throwing his other drumstick at him. Sonny in a panic grabs Amanda ans shields himself, the drumstick hitting her in the eye. She slaps Sonny and storms out of the bus, crossing paths with SAUL McGUINNESS, the band's manager. He sees her storm out, sighs and enters the bus.
So this is a bit of the beginning. It basically sets the plot in place and establishes the cast of characters, both protag and antag. This is the most recent draft of the story and I'll add more when I happen again on this site. Hope you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
Dom suggested I pool some of my ideas on this Bloggy-thingy (Scott Pilgrim reference) so you folks can critique and/or instigate a flame war against them. I see he's been busy with his own works, so it looks like I've got some catching up to do. First up I'm going to offer a synopsis of a script I worked on during the show's run. Its about a British metal band as it tours across Eurasia to promote its nomination for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, instead of their career long rivals. Here is an excerpt of The Ballistacrats.
Black. The crowd roars. Over the loudspeaker an announcer yells, "Alright Moscow we want you to go fucking nuts as we bring you the metallic gods...the sirens of solos...the demigods of distortion...the sophisticated savagery that is, The Ballistacrats!" Fade in; panning over the audience leading to a large stage, it fires pyrotechnics like a warship as ERNIE V. pounds on his drums. A soothing bass groove, followed by a screeching guitar riff mix in as SONNY PAUL and PERRY LOU rise from the stage floor. A low growl summons a ring of fire at center stage and JACQUES LeRAGE jumps out of the ring in a furious yell as the band leads into its biggest hit to date, "Spread Eagle."
Security frantically barricades fans from rushing the stage. One woman manages to break free and tackles Sonny. She introduces herself as AMANDA, and claims to be his biggest fan. He jokes, "Sorry babe, but she's my biggest fan." He points out a rather large hambeast of a woman covered in tattoos and piercings screaming at the top of her lungs. Amanda laughs and lunges at Sonny's face before he stops her, asking to delay the impromtu meet and greet until after show, he needs to return to the song. She enthusiastically nods and trots backstage in a giddy frenzy. The rest of the concert becomes lost in a haze of sex, drugs and rock and roll.
Back at the band's tour bus, a television set plays an MTV News segment. Reporter SWAY reports that the upcoming Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction Ceremony will be postponed until the Nomination Comittee can decide on who takes the final spot of this year's induction class, which include Kiss, Thin Lizzy, Lodon Wainwright and in a surprise decision, Zydeco act Wayne Toups. The final spot is currently being debated over two legendary metal acts, The Ballistacrats and their career long rivals, Jack Union.
At the very utterance of that name Ernie V. hurls one of his drumsticks at the television, breaking it. He exclaims as he rises from a chair, "Jack Union? Fuck those wankers!" The rest of the band agrees, except for Sonny, who is locking lips with the groupie from earlier. They stop for a moment so Sonny can assure Ernie V. that he shouldn't worry. "If the band doesn't make the cut, they're is always next year." Ernie V. turns and directs his anger at Sonny by throwing his other drumstick at him. Sonny in a panic grabs Amanda ans shields himself, the drumstick hitting her in the eye. She slaps Sonny and storms out of the bus, crossing paths with SAUL McGUINNESS, the band's manager. He sees her storm out, sighs and enters the bus.
So this is a bit of the beginning. It basically sets the plot in place and establishes the cast of characters, both protag and antag. This is the most recent draft of the story and I'll add more when I happen again on this site. Hope you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Comics for August 17, 2010
It must mean I have nothing new to add to the budding story. Lets look at what literature I bought this weeks.
Justice Society of America #42
I had a cousin ask me how I can jumble aroudn the 20-30 comic book storylines I must follow every month. I tell him it is rather easy as long as the story is entertaining. He asked me what if I don't remember it. I told him "Then, I drop the book." I'm getting in that zone with this JSA/JLA crossover, right now.
Want more reason than that? All I can say is that I don't care for what James Robinson is doing in this crossover. If I can't be bothered to mentally file away the previous month's books, then I can't be bothered to buy this book. BMB was getting like that with me on New Avengers, but I probably blame that on his penache to not write in chronological order. Reading Avengers during the whole Secret Invasion story was just a pain. Especially when I didn't know until 3 months into the event that it was going on.
Hulk #24
Ed McGuinness draws beautiful Hulks. Meanwhile, I can't help but marvel at the difference in attitude in Bruce Banner between Pak's writing and Loeb's. I'm not qualifying it, I'm just drawing attention to Pak's Bruce Banner who wants to wholly deny the Hulk versus Loeb's more responsably reluctant Hulk. Loeb's Banner definitely embraces his Hulk more than Pak's does.
Shadowland: Daughters of the Shadow #1
I was pretty entertained with this Colleen Wing book. I was wondering what happened to her when she didn't show up in Blood on the Streets.
Shadowland: Power Man #1
Before buyign this I was pretty much willing to give anything by FVL a try. After this, I'm still willing to give anything FVL writes a try.
The New Avengers #3
When Bendis seems to bring a group of people together everyone speaks in the same voice. His ability to wield dialog does not shine until he has to focus on just one charcater, like Iron Fist in the white room.
Darkwing Duck #3
Sad to see Taurus Bullba be the big bad. Needs more Negaduck.
Brightest Day #8
I have a fist pump for Hawkman. I'm hoping the book is making a turn from its directionless beginning issues. Now, at least, the issue of the new Martian is being addressed, and it seems Black Manta will also, finally, be given some more time in the next book. Plus, I didn't have to read any more of Firestorm or Aquaman's whining.
Deadpool #26
This book did not seem to be 22 pages long. It felt like 12. Now I have to decifer if it was really needed. It just gives me this feel like Way painted himslf into a corner, storywise, with the last issue and had no way to resolving the fact Deadpool has a 9-5 job as a hero in Vegas in a really entertaining fashion. Yes, I'm saying this book was not entertaining. After a short fight with Ghost Rider there is another rehashing of Deadpool's origin, and that means another person's interpretation of the origin's of Wade Wilson. If Deadpool was actually a charcater that people hung onto every continuity bump in his past, like Wolverine's, he'd have as confusing an origin as Hawkman. So, thanks, Daniel, for giving us another story in the origin of Wade Wilson. It is not like you couldn't have filled the book up with a longer, funnier fight against Ghost Rider.
Uncanny X-Men #527
I don't have much to say about this except that the art is terrible.
Green Lantern Corps #51
This issue really revels in deaths. It is kind of sad to say that. i know I've had problems with the Alpha Lanterns as charcaters because I generaly don't like reading about people giving up their humanity to do a job. So, if this is the reaction that the GL writing teams has been trying to evoke since the introduction of the Alpha Lanterns, it has been accomplished. I just wish it did not have to involve so much death, as well.
Averngers Academy #3
This has been a remarkable book. I just kind of wish Gage did not lay the teenage skepticism/sarcasm/rebelliousness on so thick. It makes characters like Hazmat, Finesse, and Stryker unlikeable, to me, and when he confirms their attitudes towards the way the heroes treat them, it makes the academy heads seem like clueless buffoons.
Sad face :( for turning Speedball into a cutter.
Thunderbolts #147
And here we now see that basic title crossovers are trying to make it so that you don't have to buy the other books in the crossover to get a complete story. I really find that rather annoying.
DV8: Gods and Monsters #5
My favorite of the week. Then again, I was solidly in the tank for Warren Ellis' DV8 run in the mid 90s. This issue was a bit different than the others as it spotlights on two charcaters instead of one. Also, Brian Wood juxtaposes the fates of the two characters as they satisfy different roles in the tribe that kidnapped both of them. Sublime is elevated into the status of a goddess, while Evo is demoted into the status of carnival freak. I guess if you wanted to show that not everyone was happy being on the mystery world, someone had to get picked on, and, really, Evo is a bit of a whipping boy for the whole team. Just another solid book in "High School Drama with Caveman Armies".
Fables #97
Another solid book. And, hopefully, this spells the end of the nearly year long diversion from the looming threat of Mr. Dark.
Justice Society of America #42
I had a cousin ask me how I can jumble aroudn the 20-30 comic book storylines I must follow every month. I tell him it is rather easy as long as the story is entertaining. He asked me what if I don't remember it. I told him "Then, I drop the book." I'm getting in that zone with this JSA/JLA crossover, right now.
Want more reason than that? All I can say is that I don't care for what James Robinson is doing in this crossover. If I can't be bothered to mentally file away the previous month's books, then I can't be bothered to buy this book. BMB was getting like that with me on New Avengers, but I probably blame that on his penache to not write in chronological order. Reading Avengers during the whole Secret Invasion story was just a pain. Especially when I didn't know until 3 months into the event that it was going on.
Hulk #24
Ed McGuinness draws beautiful Hulks. Meanwhile, I can't help but marvel at the difference in attitude in Bruce Banner between Pak's writing and Loeb's. I'm not qualifying it, I'm just drawing attention to Pak's Bruce Banner who wants to wholly deny the Hulk versus Loeb's more responsably reluctant Hulk. Loeb's Banner definitely embraces his Hulk more than Pak's does.
Shadowland: Daughters of the Shadow #1
I was pretty entertained with this Colleen Wing book. I was wondering what happened to her when she didn't show up in Blood on the Streets.
Shadowland: Power Man #1
Before buyign this I was pretty much willing to give anything by FVL a try. After this, I'm still willing to give anything FVL writes a try.
The New Avengers #3
When Bendis seems to bring a group of people together everyone speaks in the same voice. His ability to wield dialog does not shine until he has to focus on just one charcater, like Iron Fist in the white room.
Darkwing Duck #3
Sad to see Taurus Bullba be the big bad. Needs more Negaduck.
Brightest Day #8
I have a fist pump for Hawkman. I'm hoping the book is making a turn from its directionless beginning issues. Now, at least, the issue of the new Martian is being addressed, and it seems Black Manta will also, finally, be given some more time in the next book. Plus, I didn't have to read any more of Firestorm or Aquaman's whining.
Deadpool #26
This book did not seem to be 22 pages long. It felt like 12. Now I have to decifer if it was really needed. It just gives me this feel like Way painted himslf into a corner, storywise, with the last issue and had no way to resolving the fact Deadpool has a 9-5 job as a hero in Vegas in a really entertaining fashion. Yes, I'm saying this book was not entertaining. After a short fight with Ghost Rider there is another rehashing of Deadpool's origin, and that means another person's interpretation of the origin's of Wade Wilson. If Deadpool was actually a charcater that people hung onto every continuity bump in his past, like Wolverine's, he'd have as confusing an origin as Hawkman. So, thanks, Daniel, for giving us another story in the origin of Wade Wilson. It is not like you couldn't have filled the book up with a longer, funnier fight against Ghost Rider.
Uncanny X-Men #527
I don't have much to say about this except that the art is terrible.
Green Lantern Corps #51
This issue really revels in deaths. It is kind of sad to say that. i know I've had problems with the Alpha Lanterns as charcaters because I generaly don't like reading about people giving up their humanity to do a job. So, if this is the reaction that the GL writing teams has been trying to evoke since the introduction of the Alpha Lanterns, it has been accomplished. I just wish it did not have to involve so much death, as well.
Averngers Academy #3
This has been a remarkable book. I just kind of wish Gage did not lay the teenage skepticism/sarcasm/rebelliousness on so thick. It makes characters like Hazmat, Finesse, and Stryker unlikeable, to me, and when he confirms their attitudes towards the way the heroes treat them, it makes the academy heads seem like clueless buffoons.
Sad face :( for turning Speedball into a cutter.
Thunderbolts #147
And here we now see that basic title crossovers are trying to make it so that you don't have to buy the other books in the crossover to get a complete story. I really find that rather annoying.
DV8: Gods and Monsters #5
My favorite of the week. Then again, I was solidly in the tank for Warren Ellis' DV8 run in the mid 90s. This issue was a bit different than the others as it spotlights on two charcaters instead of one. Also, Brian Wood juxtaposes the fates of the two characters as they satisfy different roles in the tribe that kidnapped both of them. Sublime is elevated into the status of a goddess, while Evo is demoted into the status of carnival freak. I guess if you wanted to show that not everyone was happy being on the mystery world, someone had to get picked on, and, really, Evo is a bit of a whipping boy for the whole team. Just another solid book in "High School Drama with Caveman Armies".
Fables #97
Another solid book. And, hopefully, this spells the end of the nearly year long diversion from the looming threat of Mr. Dark.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Moving along
Catherine bounces an idea off him, “Maybe I can do a story about the people out in the woods and how they have to co-exist with the power-dome. You know if this technology will do anything about the soil blightening that has been spreading from the city into the valley?”
Martin shakes his head, “It’s only going to try and pull more energy out of the geothermic dome. All that means is probably more soot in the air and more dead trees. Woodford doesn’t care about who lives down in the valley. If you want personal stories, you should do a write up on a Privateer.”
Catherine scoffs at the thought. “You gotta find one that is personable. They’re hardly human or just live in their own fantasy world.”
“Perhaps you could find one whose fantasy includes a girl like you?”
She recoils in mock horror, pointing a finger from one of her carefully cared for hands at him. “Evil man! I shall nothave my honored sullied in such a way!” She quickly finishes her coffee and stands off the couch. She wags a finger in Brandt’s face and begins to back away from him. “You will not invite such ill portents in my presence. Good day to you, sir” before she winks, turns, and walks back up the stairs.
Catherine was certain that Wallace has had plenty time to calm down from thrashing about his favored photographer. She opened the door into the Alarm’s offices to see Hines sweeping up the debris from the earlier tirade, and notice the silhouette of Wallace changing his attire into something drier.
The offices of the Sunderville Alarm would generally be considered spacious, for any business located inside. Wallace was the only editor for the publication, and employed eight typists to generate stories for the 4 page daily in addition to any news that is transmitted via the World News Telegraph Wire, which is transmitted straight to layout editor, Mike James’, desk. Catherine sits besides Mike and Marshton in a row of four typists, their desks facing towards a small alley created with the four desks of the other writers for the Alarm. In the back of the office is a small printing press which Mike operates with the help of Martin, and now Catherine begins to realize how many people whose first names begin with the letter “M”. She shakes her head in slight embarrassment and smiles at how she can marvel at something so trivial.
Once at her desk she notices a curious sight. Atop her work area is a plain package addressed to her. Looking around to notice if anyone is watching her for their amusement and determining that no one is, she grabs the package and tears it open. Inside is a letter addressed to her, along with old newspaper clippings. She dumps the contents onto the table and scans them over. The message is written on the letterhead Sturm museum. The clippings were stories in Norwegian and Swedish about a Viking treasure horde known as the Sigmund Horde and the message asks that she interview the horde’s discoverer, Andersson Sigmund.
A few posts ago I trie dmy hand at doing this, and found it way too clunky. So lets see how the rewrite goes. Right off the bat I feel like I should be more descriptive of the Sunderville Alarm's offices and play up the mystery package.
Martin shakes his head, “It’s only going to try and pull more energy out of the geothermic dome. All that means is probably more soot in the air and more dead trees. Woodford doesn’t care about who lives down in the valley. If you want personal stories, you should do a write up on a Privateer.”
Catherine scoffs at the thought. “You gotta find one that is personable. They’re hardly human or just live in their own fantasy world.”
“Perhaps you could find one whose fantasy includes a girl like you?”
She recoils in mock horror, pointing a finger from one of her carefully cared for hands at him. “Evil man! I shall nothave my honored sullied in such a way!” She quickly finishes her coffee and stands off the couch. She wags a finger in Brandt’s face and begins to back away from him. “You will not invite such ill portents in my presence. Good day to you, sir” before she winks, turns, and walks back up the stairs.
Catherine was certain that Wallace has had plenty time to calm down from thrashing about his favored photographer. She opened the door into the Alarm’s offices to see Hines sweeping up the debris from the earlier tirade, and notice the silhouette of Wallace changing his attire into something drier.
The offices of the Sunderville Alarm would generally be considered spacious, for any business located inside. Wallace was the only editor for the publication, and employed eight typists to generate stories for the 4 page daily in addition to any news that is transmitted via the World News Telegraph Wire, which is transmitted straight to layout editor, Mike James’, desk. Catherine sits besides Mike and Marshton in a row of four typists, their desks facing towards a small alley created with the four desks of the other writers for the Alarm. In the back of the office is a small printing press which Mike operates with the help of Martin, and now Catherine begins to realize how many people whose first names begin with the letter “M”. She shakes her head in slight embarrassment and smiles at how she can marvel at something so trivial.
Once at her desk she notices a curious sight. Atop her work area is a plain package addressed to her. Looking around to notice if anyone is watching her for their amusement and determining that no one is, she grabs the package and tears it open. Inside is a letter addressed to her, along with old newspaper clippings. She dumps the contents onto the table and scans them over. The message is written on the letterhead Sturm museum. The clippings were stories in Norwegian and Swedish about a Viking treasure horde known as the Sigmund Horde and the message asks that she interview the horde’s discoverer, Andersson Sigmund.
A few posts ago I trie dmy hand at doing this, and found it way too clunky. So lets see how the rewrite goes. Right off the bat I feel like I should be more descriptive of the Sunderville Alarm's offices and play up the mystery package.
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