castirongoldfish

Created for a RPG micro-setting submission with a character limit of 100 words.

Blackcapes 1950s - Capes? Heck, I never got one. I’m not that kind of hero.  I missed the war and a chance to punch out a Kriegbot. Or so I thought. I’ve visited Argentina, Antarctica, Festung Phobos, and Hawaii on a really bad holiday; Nazis in each one, using dark magic and obscene science.   Both Ivan and Tommy are out there too and not allies. Screw up and your legacy is a redacted file. We’ll never get the key to the city, but we’re America’s best chance to win this new war. I am that kind of hero. A real one.

In the cold majesty of the void, two float alone next to the apex of Man’s spacecraft.

“How do you lose keys to an airlock?”

Calm on the surface, but there's activity below. Flurries, if occasionally pathetic ones, occur in other vectors, but soon some should be posted.

There will be more. A new year calls for new action.

Come home and voila. New stuff....

Well, fair be fair....Mark stuff...some of it's on hold since the original notes for the TV series are in one of my notebooks....I need to scan that one at some point. Been saying that a few years now.

Beyond that i have some stuff based on the cast below, the Nemesis tales (Wierd West). I'll share (gDocs).

Tomorrow the report would say that he wasn't that drunk when his car dodged something (what we don't know, he missed) and attempted to uproot the sapling which had wintered successfully in its cement embrasure. The embrasure had won, but he had, even not being that drunk, forgotten to put on his seatbelt, and skidded some thirty, fifty feet until wrapping around a park bench.

“You know, I was even thinking pasta for dinner. Now,” noted Sasha, slowly surveying the distended carnage, “not so much”.

There was the motley collection you might expect four am on a Tuesday to bring out. A patrol car, not the first to show, rather the junior, remained, parked close to Mark's ambulance. Lights from the two vehicles continued to roil the shadows to dancing, this predawn rave circling, neither closing or widening their noose.

“Mark.” Sasha bellowed this time. “What you think we get, you know, after this?”

Mark shook his head and turned around to the small party orbiting the meat smear. He squinted, then, resigned, lit a cigarette. A heavy drag down, “What's this, dinner? Somehow you haven't eaten enough”

“You know,” Sasha smiled his hacksaw smile, “we got time.” With this he gestured at the two remaining policemen, one tied to his radio as the other finished cleaning wiping off his surprise from his boots and mouth.

“Why?” The cigarette dwindled quickly. “this isn't our job. Let them call a meat wagon. We're supposed to be here for the living.”

Sasha scratched aimlessly at the mass of his cheek and jowl, turfed as it was with thick, jagged black and gray scruff. “Look, Mark. These militsiya, they're young. All shit slides down the years and they, they got none. They're the bucket.” He shrugged. “How can we win? It's this, or maybe the coffee and cigarettes the rest tonight. At least this way we're busy. Then there is still time for coffee, but at least with breakfast. Now give me one of those.”

Mark lit a pair of smokes at once and passed Sasha his. The cop, damn,

He choked down the last of the cigarette. “We got it,” he said, blowing by the cop and leaving him stammering behind.

Collected Notes from the Susan Heany speech 19 Mar 09

We have a dead body from the car accident.

Though dead, he's dead before his time

There's two things to look at.

Write to feel the characters

Writing for dense, powerful writing

We'll write big right now, then cut to the right size

Mark and Sasha drinking coffee, talking,

mark's trying to listen, but distracted.

By college students

Freaking out

high pitched

deal with issues by email and writing on facebook walls

look around, “always feel weird about talking about people”...but it doesn't slow them

Mark started school but he dropped out

Trying to relax but dealing with the shrill laughter.

“Yes, and relax instead to the sounds of that garbage truck. It's like a baby song” -Sasha

Watching an errant falcon hunting in the city

crappy motor cycle for sasha, mark has his beater pick up, and usually gives sasha a ride back

Mark sticks his head out in the sunlight at the end of his drive like a dog. Almost gets into an accident in the process

Falls asleep with his feet in the kiddy pool.

Does sasha wake him burned?

[diagram: Mark arrow (pays his rent) landlord arrow (sold to) the cat eyed lady many arrow (sold out)]

she's only willing to part with the list of the sellers for a deal

This though is the background....

This story is not our primary story, not our story today.

This is a snapshot

it answers the question if this is fun to write.

It has

Action

Anti-hero

Something that happened to the victim

a little bit of WWolf gothic

The victim wasn't supposed to die.

It's that thing mentioned that he dodged

That thing was once a hunter in the darkness

But over time it's fade, it is dying, fading from its hunger

Now it feeds on old sick streetdwellers with little sustistance

Tired, Half Blind, it didn't see the car

But a young, healthy soul died in the process.

It intends to be there when the soul leaves, the following sunset

And it wants that soul bad

This lien on the soul prevents it from moving on.

And the soul itself is scared, at least as much as it can be

So this Hounded at Twilight (?) (Horrible Title)

This story is going to be 5,000-10,000 words (well, don't really have too much of a upper limit, but at 300 wpp in the old paperback format, we're looking at roughly 20-40 pages. Nothing really.

This is a framework, not a lifestyle choice.

What does the Hunter look like?

4 dimensional, folding out

blind in one eye

ragged, edges fraying out of existence with no colors, faded black at the edges

Some symbol to its spiritual roots, whatever that will be

voices numerous as legion, loud, strong, mostly male as strong, more to child and screetchy when scared

Face fading from hawk to cougar to bear to wolf, fast forward to slomo, blurring

sense of fur, matted and bloody/dirty, but fur none the less

limping

trail of self left behind that slowly, indistinctly, ceased to be

Ancient, smell of barrows, wet earth, rust blood

Mark is supposed to use the supernatural to get back at the supernatural

Start with

the accident-paranoia

the travel-stopping through a drive through/mark sneaks back to check on the body and leave a protection/record

Dropping off the remains

Heads home, falls asleep, dreams the hunter

Wakes and sees the seething shadow

gets to ambulance,early, drops shrooms into a miller light, and sits by the body, now unmarked.

He breaks the bottle and cuts his hand to loop the body and cut the body and claim a mark

after he drinks the beer he can see clearly

The two clash, mostly verbal, but the blood serves as a sympathetic barrier

Why does he choose to do all this.

He fears the dreams that come when he fails

He fears the punishment from failure to act

What does the soul look like

It doesn't, it's a sensation, not a sense

Its not heard, smelt, felt, etc.

Walking one can feel the unease, and when it leave, at the sunset, he feels the vaccuum

Sunset vs. 24 hours

First Dream

The dream, as he starts to sleep outside, is the vision of the accident in the drivers seat

The speed

The form-not right, not natural

the turn

the blur

Awakening, and seeing a siloluette in the shadows

Cursing, quick to rise to a drink

Going to a corner then occupied by notebooks and staying there until he either leaves or sasha shows and comments on his sunburn

The battle

Pulling the bag out

Ringing with mixed blood and putting blood on finger

Pulled over a battered folding chair

It slinks into the room

Mark needs to gird self, fake it

Demands why it's here, this is mark's marked meal

shows blood on hand

Hunter tells how killed

did you touch

no

then mine

-and-

bound by law, did you hunt it

no

then not yours, by the lords of ravens, my carion

Pushes mark, the barrier holds, which causes mark to get light headed by the strain

Then negotiation

Then begging/pleading

and then an end around in the last effort

but the soul leaves first

Then the hunter tries to leave

mark chases, but not for not that long

realizes it no longer has the ability to hunt any longer.

Soon the last of it will fade

goes to ambulance then,

light trails and light headed

comes to senses at coffee shop?

Scene Idea...
Outside of town, we have a runner, someone who came to realization as to what is going on. He doesn’t look back, though, he’s trying just to get out (of the compound?). He is upstairs, outside, in the high grass. Here is where we introduce the counsel of stone’s agent.

So what do we know. We have the Gremlins. Who are the gremlins? Gremlins are the clones of Gremlin son of Gargoyle. Gremlin genetically engineered Droog, so the SuperSoldier suit was not his most interesting invention. This is why Gremlin was willing to face folks while wearing power armor. There are others, three in fact, who carry on the work. They went off and attempted to do something...but they had no purpose. They did not share GremlinPrime’s hatred of anyone. So there you are, geniuses, with great skill and no morals, but likewise no passions. So what do you do? You walk up to the pentagon and walk up to the front door. You offer to create a super soldier program. They’ve had serious budgetary issues, so they manage the ash and trash projects. One of those projects that existed was the Echo Project. The goal here was to see if the genetic code had enough memory of the super-soldier chemicals to reproduce. In fact the decay that exists will most likely repeat, but the result could be a 5 year superheroes. Given resources, they could mass produce an army. Given technology, they might stabilize. But this one is meant to be the worst case situation.

However, before we reach that next step, which, due to budget, cannot be a rush, we are going to observe the subject. Some half-assed villain comes through, and tries to knock over the weathered diner next to the shop.

Let’s look at the cast.

There’s the:
Headhunter-Agent of the Trinity. He’s the legbreaker, previously a whimpy character giving a revamp. Like who...? I’m looking for a Whiteout...a blinder...
Bonny & Clyde-Supervillain idiot, possibly a member of the wrecking crew, and his pushy, bratty girlfriend.
The Triptych-G1, G2, and G3
The Handler
The Agent
The Observer
The Buddies
The Ally

2/7/2008, Sean

Whippoorwill- tattooed with a latticework of empowerments, of armor, of strength, of sensing. He’s reborn into hunting...
Why does he hunt? Because...fuck, lord knows, we must figure this one out. How about the idea of the thrill of the hunt. He’s feral, slightly feral from a bite from something a while back. Some of his tattoos are broken, and with it, some of him is unraveling.
How did he get the tattoos?
The tattoos, one of them at least, was snuck in.
This one brings dreams, pulls him toward his next task.
He is a threadbare man, pulled from site to site
He’s tired, worn out, and everyone who works with him dies, except one, Tatters,


The Tattered Woman- Tatters-Moira-Moira is actually a couple of people. Her "knack" is that she is multiple souls, a tapestry put together, a person outside of the cycle of humanity. As such, she is unaffected by destiny, thus able to override it. Of all of humanity, she is the only free soul. She is also invisible to most wholly supernatural beings, being not from the flow of humanity. Wears a quilt dress and a vest over, hair a mess in all but dreads.

Jan van der Beirk- Medium-Dutchman who went wandering into the great veldt, and discovered the slaughter site of one of the tribes. Or did he do it himself? There, this early Boer discovered a religious artifact of the tribe, and was able to use it to control the spirits of the dead tribe and now reaches out to the undead as well. He can animate the dead. Due to the issues which had arisen after he discovered the extent of his powers, he retreated to the US, where he, as an academic, attempts to develop his talents.

"Lady" Jane- She goes by many names, but this at least is the name she is best known by with Mockingbird. She is a wandering pursuer of excess and new experience. She can ravage, gaining sustenance from the creations of others, feeding off the creativity. She is amoral, usually helping her own side, the Fey, keep things under control, but not too much, that wouldn’t be much fun. She’s one of the last gatekeepers of her people, more and more of them loose themselves to the music of the chaos. It is what they were born for, and if they can refuse it, at least in some bit, then they can possess massive power. It takes great will to attack her. All denims in hill nobility.
Old- Simple, skilled gunslinger with the advantage of anytime someone tries to shoot at her, she forces a will roll from them to succeed due to her appearance. Intent is to give her one one-shot spell as well. Probably a confusion spell, as well as the ability to hurt the unnatural.

Confessor- The Confessor believes he was a Jesuit and believes he was a priest, but honestly, doesn’t remember from the time he died. Or rather, should have died. But he is back, sent back by god to "do his will". He is quiet, flat voiced, with a wry sense of humor. God will take his due, it is all a matter of time. He has a massive iron will, unaffected by charms of any kind. A little healing, but mostly exorcism spells, even those few. He wears white gloves, a black parson’s habit with barbed wire epaulets, boots, a scruff, and inspires those around him

Mr No One- The man who cannot be seen by the one man he intends to kill. He’s a construct of sorts, once a man, now a hollow shell, nothing left but a need to execute the will of the creator, the Dark Man. He’s a bloodworks man, who only develops any amount of energy, of passion, when he is about to cut the throat of his target. Wears a scarf and a wide brimmed hat, no hair, and a yellowed eyes.

Josiah Shadow- The Ghost of a man. A whisping man able to walk through walls when he wills it. The Front of his face is thick, mostly human smoke, but back toward the back of his head it devolves into smoke. Mutton chops and a white outfit, a Samuel Clemmons Suit.

Unseelie Huntsman- Beautiful, androgynous, and, while not maliciously evil, completely amoral, and joys only in the hunt. He is older than "Lady" Jane, and continued down the path into chaos. He is not a leader of the chaos, the chaos has no leader. He simply wish es to enjoy the life in this, what he sees to be the last days.

Hill Boggin: A thing that does not speak well, twisted, with an underbite, pocked skin and endless strength

Captain Martyns the Federal Hermetic- Pipe smoking man wearing a cavalry cap, he’s of dubious military background, though he claims to the contrary. He wears a picture of the woman around a button of the suit he wears, always half concealed by the presence of the huge overcoat he wears. He hopes it is a protection, but unlike everything about him, there is no locked magic within it. His buttons are marked by khabbalistic marks that protect him, the interior of his coat is opposed to metal by alchameic principles. His hair is well cut, he has a thick mustache, and occasionally, a cigar. He, unfortunately has a habit of talking more of than he knows, of getting himself in trouble as he looks older than he is, and many of his years are in study. He wants to do good, and it is an uncomplex good, he wishes to solve problems and kick ass. Sometimes gullible, he also does not understand the idea of "impossible". He focuses on enchantment magics, not castings.

No Prisioners- Bandit ex-CSA cavalryman. Older now, not the wild problem starter he used to be, but a survivor of the Kansas mess, and ranged with fellow raiders from Bloody Kansas to the foothills of Kentucky.

Mad Zeke- Crazy Hillman who can smell the metal, or so he says.

The Huntsman- Hates magic, arcane attacks, bonus vs magic

Shape Changer- Werewolf effects, stats listed as beast

Soul Eater- Each Kill makes him stronger-

Anya O'Reily- Young, determined, heroic

Heiffer & Solomon- Midgit and Giant

The Strikebreaker- From East, bearer of the Electric whip. It was an experiment, mainly as a tool to drive on the cattle in Chicago. He stole the prototype. But if you have it, how do you recharge it? Not sure yet, but for a short time Ionnas used the device to

Dr. Lao- The Geomancer. Not a violent man by any stretch of the imagination, he’s a man who learned at a very early age the science of geomancy, of using ley lines to feed his good fortune. He has the ability to slide along lines and shoot at right angles. Sometimes he gets paid to help find a little bit of ply left in a claim.

The Strange and Amazing Dr Alonzo Vent- Huckster with an apathy towards battle, creator of Josiah Shadow, older fellow, but has a plethora of alchemics. He’s thin, and almost two people. The one most see is the salesman, loud, outgoing, quick witted, standing on his card and bellowing to the crowd. After, in the quiet of his cart or in the loose privacy of the back of the local bar, he is silent, brooding, trying to make sense out of the path he follows. He’s running away from something but he is not sure who.

Nemesis (War)- The Herokiller, handman of the Dark Man. There’s no doubt in his mind, he knows what his duty is, he’s chosen it whole, he is a avatar of destruction, which he shall do through killing the heroes. He even gave up his name for the Dark Man. The Hollow Gunslinger. Curly hair, small pierce nez glasses, opaque, hollow voice, knows he is the best, but doesn’t care.


Adam- The trained killer, no more than 17, raised to be a perfect weapon, even tutilaged under the Nemesis, to protect...

Coldheart- He is the Cannibal commander and the man CPT Martyns hunts, the commander who survived the wintering. MAJ Ross, hale, but physically twisted (how, long lines of scar tissue, a canyon where his eye should be, slight extension of the canines.

The Unbroken Grey-Something more than human,. Thickly bearded, but survived the storm. He’s lightning scored in the storm. He and the lightning have an understanding. He’s stormrider. Saberbearer. A Lightning Teleporter.

Joykiller-Daughter of the Dark Man. She’s a Cambion, a twisted child of the bordello madam who established the house that Callico works at. The mother died during birth.

Thomas-He is hemp robed monk in the hills of CA. He is immune to all forms of magic.

Griz the Mountain Man-Furrier, older, simple in philosophy. He comes to the edge to make in simple trade, but little more. He avoids the big city, really he is little more than a

Leather-An old bitter man living on the edge of society for so long he’s picked up a bit of talent himself. He’s got a dark touch to him, allows him to kill the supernatural, and a slight touch of the dark that allows a bit of stealth as well. Thin and bitter.

Calico-Touch of the Fey in her, ability to enchant, much of a younger Lady Jane.

Valkrye Stefansdottir, the Widowmaker-One eyed, cold, distant. Hunter of men -Facepaints circle of runes around her right eye, her good eye, forcing it to clear red. A vestal warrior, Rapid charge, Nordic Axe at the belt. Blond with a ponytail tied in human leather.

Gambler- Gypsie Card Reader-Female, slightly older, always a joke on her lips, always ready to take the impossible chance, never surprised. Curly black hair in a mass down to the small of her back. She’s played a few

Big Bess-a rural woman, realistic, down to earth kind of stout woman. She has no magic, she has nothing beyond her nature: stoicism

Moira the Orphan-The Sword Bearer-A modern Paladin, adopted by Confessor

Sheriff w/o a Town

Dr. Stoke-Matilda’s Father, mad scientist of the purest breed. A big, hands on kind of guy, old, but still strong, kinda guy who tightens nuts bare handed. Spanish survivor of the Carlist War, man who became more than he is because he had to.

The Hangman-He whose duty cannot be stopped

Jimbo the Governor's Man-Adam’s partner, the worldly man who runs the daily ops of the city.

Juicer-A Doctor Jeckle and Mr Hyde kind of guy

Opium Vision Summoner-A relative of the geomancer

Jose Orgullo-The duelist, proud

Martin the Snake-Sneak, with poisoned blade.

Blight (Famine)-

Legion (Strife)-

Blacklung (Plague)-

Miguel the Spider-Has 4 arms of metal with pistol attachments

The Philidephian-A rapid reloading solid walking kind of man.

Salome the Snakewoman-Snake eyes, scaled at points. Treated like an outcast. Never belonged.

He Who Saw Shibolleth-Cult leader who saw something chthonic in the hills.

Unnatural Big Game hunter-From Europe, a deep voiced man looking for excitement.

Magic Surveyor-Minor mage from Europe

Cajun Cursebringer-Bi polar, both jolly and quiet stalker

Dead Jim, Twice Hung-Cadaverman, very tough
Damage resistance 5, quite a lot of hit points, wearing washed out clothing covered in holes and probably missing one eye. While he has a rifle, his low stats should make that pretty much ineffective, putting his real strength in hand to hand.

Lila-NEW
Idea is of a young girl possessed by a powerful demon. The child is little more than a locus for it’s power, including reach, multiple attacks, and invulnerability to normal attacks. The image is a child stuck hanging in mid air surrounded by a miasma of dark energies (clear plastic idea.

Wolf-The man with no name
Has a few heroic rerolls, some of the best stats in the game, and grim determination, but how does one represent grim determination? No leadership abilities and no specials beyond the rerolls. Part native American he drank a mixed brew and ended up fighting a spirit for a night and a day, until he collapsed in exhaustion. When he awoke he was covered with wolf tattoos.

Liam the Butcher-Bloodthirsty bastard
Idea here is for a guy in a butcher’s apron, wild hair, holding a butcher’s knife and a pistol. Not that skilled a shooter, but he has the Bloodthirsty Butcher ability, allowing another attack if he successfully hits, and he has two attacks.

Pigdog-Knockback beast, fearful
Large individual, causes fear, and has Knockback which pushes foe back d4 squares after a successful hit, and should travel be impeded, it does remaining squares of damage to the impeder and the impeded times five. Has a few wagon wheels that he uses as ranged weapons which allow him to attack two adjacent targets with his ranged attacks. Ugly bastard wearing just pants and a vest (he can’t afford sleeves, what do you want).

Davies "Carrion" Stork-Scrapper, ugly puss
One of the lower level fillers, main advantage is Scrapper which allows him to make a roll vs. 15 with his level bonus when he dies. If successful, he remains in play with 5 hp. Thin, potmarked face and oversized clothing. Also, if doesn’t have a friendly model in sight he has to make a morale roll (ie cowardly).

Matilda Stokes-Hammer steam arm
Image of a curly blond woman, little buxom, with a preacher’s had, black duster, and a metal device over both of her arms with a small steam generator on her back. Gives her very high strength, generally applied through her sledge hammer. Her malfunction (joker card for init) is over heating, making her device useless for the turn and causing her damage from the heat.

Andrew Smythe-British shootist
Not necessarily a good guy, but two pistols, a bowler and a crapload of accuracy, including a one use per game whirlwind of bullets, which if he has full guns, allows him to empty every round he has. Should take a little while to reload however. Thinking he won’t shoot folks in the back. Honorable perhaps, but only when not expected.

Li Don Qin-Martial Artist
All the bonuses including high AC, dodging bullets, multiple melee attacks, kick ass move.

The Alienist-Mind controlling
Bulletproof "Siege"-Full Metal Duster
Native Druid
Loa Rider
Curst Beast
Gruff Harris
Agent 08
Pyra
Grey P'bod
The Dark Man
The Rebuilt
Mr. Minder
Dynamite Casmir
Phineas and his Canopener
Clint Osok
Tex
Keif the Pugilist
Piledriver the Railroad Worker
Alister Klase- Gattling Attacks, Saturate Fire
Doorknocker-Explosive Hammer
Pneumatic Gunslinger
The Safecracker


Drobingher- The pimp, those he owns he owns in soul, the ones who serve him are empty things, without anything left of themselves. They mayhap may not be cured. Ill shaved, ill fitting suit,

9/29/2008, Dara

Squirrel and the Wold Nut - a Creation Story

***

It was early in the last Autumn before the World was born that the Maker of All Things called upon Squirrel. Squirrel, said the Maker of All Things, I have a Very Important Job for you. Squirrel was so excited that he turned around 3 times: 2 times to the left and once to the right. The Maker waited patiently for Squirrel to calm down, and then handed him a nut.

This, said the Maker, is the World Nut. In Spring, it will give birth to the World. Give birth to the World? asked Squirrel. It looks like an ordinary nut. It is the World Nut, repeated the Maker slowly. In Spring, it will give birth to the World. Until then, it is your job to keep it safe. Why me? asked Squirrel, flattered and flustered, whiskers and ears twitching. Because you are an Expert on Nuts, replied the Maker. I have confidence in you. Now, go - and remember, this is a Very Important Job.

With that, Squirrel was off, the World Nut stored gently in his mouth. Where was he going? He didn't know, but he knew he had to find a Special Place to keep this nut. He circled the forest 5 times, 3 times clockwise and twice counter clockwise, touching every tree once. When he came to a stop, he knew he had found the Special Place. He looked quickly left and right, up and down, and saw that he was alone. He buried the World Nut carefully and, with pride at a job well done swelling in his furry chest, continued on his way toward Winter.

***

It was early in the last Spring before the world was born that the Maker of All Things called upon Squirrel. Squirrel, said the Maker of All Things, do you remember the Important Job I asked of you in Autumn? Squirrel was so startled that he ran up and down a tree 7 times, 5 times twisting to the left, twice to the right. When he reached the bottom, he remembered. Yes, Squirrel replied, of course I remember the Important Job. I hid the World Nut in a very Special Place. Good, said the Maker. It is time for it to give birth to the World - go get it and bring it to me.

So Squirrel scurried back to the forest, and circled it in a flurry - 7 times clockwise, twice counter clockwise. When he came to a stop, he realized he had hidden the Special Place so well, he had no idea where it was. Not good, not good, Squirrel chattered to himself, standing unusually still, with the exception of his tail, which moved more than ever. As he stood and twitched, Crow happened by.

What's the matter, Squirrel? asked Crow, cocking his head to the right. Oh, it's terrible, it's terrible, Squirrel replied. I've lost the World Nut. The World Nut? asked Crow. What did it look like? Oh, Squirrel replied, it looked like an ordinary nut. I may have seen it, replied Crow. Tell me more. Was it shiny? Crow asked with a hint of interest. No, not shiny, replied Squirrel. Not shiny at all? wondered Crow in disbelief. Not even in the sunlight, or when reflected in a still pool? Not even at a certain angle under the moon? Not even a tiny bit, if you polish it well? No, it was definitely not shiny, Squirrel said impatiently, bringing Crow's dreamy thoughts to an abrupt end. Oh. Well, in that case, I'm sure I haven't seen your nut. And with a flap of wings, Crow was gone.

4/1/2008, Sean

So...I know you are Mrs. Comics herself, so here's my pitch.

The character I want to use for this is Nomad. I've attached as much
of his history as I could find, but don't look there...not yet, and
necessarily not at all.

Up front what I am looking for, as I've explained, is a rejection
letter from marvel. Anything else is gravy.

So what does it take (other than my plethora of anyways and so...s) to
make this to standard. My request from you is to help me stay on
target on this. This I find interesting, but I find, being more a
presentaiton of the visual I am trying to present in only words,
exceedingly challenging to ensure the bases....

What is this tale? Up front it's called Citizen Zero. It's not
Nomad, exactly, I'll explain...give me just a second. While I take
the second....http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nomad_(comics)

Anyway...(there it is)...Nomad is theoretically dead, but, like all
good superheroes he was frozen at one point. So Strucker got his
hands on Nomad's DNA. He also controled Peter Gyrich (who showed up
in Xmen Movie [#1]). So you have Gyrich and heroes genes, but it's
infected with Super Soldier Serum (SSS)....a superhero chemical that
periodically drives its user mad or breaks down genes. But what if we
could grow someone up from day one with SSS in the genes, someone who
the serum wouldn't be an intrusion.

1. Who do you go to? The Trypytch. There was a villain long ago
called Gargoyle (The Incredible Hulk's first villain). He had a kid,
supergenius of the evil kind, named Gremlin who build power armors.
He eventually was killed in battle. Interestingly he had a pet
genetically engineered dino named Droog who was intelligent. So,
let's think a minute. Before you go off to pick a fight with Iron
Man, if you have genetic building capibilities, what do you do? You
clone 3 of yourselves and tell them to reak vengence should you fall.
What do they do, intellectually developed but emotionally nothing?
Basically, nothing, or, better yet, look for a job. So one Mr. Gyrich
hires them.

2. Who do you clone? Well, no kidding, Nomad, who is going to be
used in other marvel plots (see the wiki entry for Bucky). The other
one is going to be one Mrs. Valerie Cregrin, derived from Frau
Kreigerin. Maybe one more...Masterman? Someone Else?

3. Gyrich is gone and Strucker/Hydra has always had cash flow
problems. So the Trypych is trying to manage their budget. Things
are falling apart at ther small, north dakota village where everyone
works. All the Trypych has is an enforcer and a few orderlies, and
every time they use the enforcer (maybe Tombstone), it costs them.

4. Like Nomad, without stabilizing element, C0 will die in five
years. So will Cregrin.

All hell now breaks loose. Things get bad when main character stops a
low grade superhero (prob the constrictor or electro) tries to knock
over the diner to impress the girls he is with.

That's what I have so far. it's a story, and not yet a good one.

9/9/2008, Sean

You had to give them this much, at least they were trying to kill him
in an inovative way. Inginuity counted for something these days, as
all rare things do...

9/29/2008, Dara

You had to give them this much, at least they were trying to kill him in an inovative way. Ingenuity counted for something these days, as all rare things do...

And speaking of rare... He held the diamond, still in its jeweler's case, up to the light. He wasn't even particularly fond of diamonds, but that didn't prevent him from easily recognizing an expensive one when he saw it. And this one, along with the gun that wasn't his (even if he had been the type to mistake his own gun, which he felt was somehow like mistaking your own child, his gun was nestled in its holster, invisible beneath his suit jacket) added up by the most basic math to a somewhat creative attempt to get him killed.

In the nightstand drawer, next to the Gideon's bible, the incriminating items might have gone undiscovered by him - undiscovered, in fact, until the police arrived with their anonymous tip and their thinly courteous request to have a look around. Except that sharing space in this particular drawer with the diamond, the gun and the bible happened to be the bottle of scotch he had been planning on using for medicinal purposes (in the time-honored application of steadying one's nerves) this evening.

They were giving him a chance. They were playing a little game. They could have left the gun and the diamond in the other nightstand, the one not containing any type of salvation. With a brief sigh, he tucked the scotch, the gun and the diamond into his jacket, leaving the bible for the next guest, and walked to the balcony just as the first knock sounded at the door. Polite, apologetic - the front desk clerk with the glasses. As he stepped out onto the balcony he heard the second knock. Firm, authoritative - the police. By the time the door was thrown open, he was gone.

11/25/2008, Sean

You had to give them this much, at least they were trying to kill him
in an innovative way. Ingenuity counted for something these days, as
all rare things do...

And speaking of rare... He held the diamond, still in its jeweler's
case, up to the light. He wasn't even particularly fond of diamonds,
but that didn't prevent him from easily recognizing an expensive one
when he saw it. And this one, along with the gun that wasn't his
(even if he had been the type to mistake his own gun, which he felt
was somehow like mistaking your own child, his gun was nestled in its
holster, invisible beneath his suit jacket) added up by the most basic
math to a somewhat creative attempt to get him killed.

In the nightstand drawer, next to the Gideon's bible, the
incriminating items might have gone undiscovered by him -
undiscovered, in fact, until the police arrived with their anonymous
tip and their thinly courteous request to have a look around. Except
that sharing space in this particular drawer with the diamond, the gun
and the bible happened to be the bottle of scotch he had been planning
on using for medicinal purposes (in the time-honored application of
steadying one's nerves) this evening.

They were giving him a chance. They were playing a little game. They
could have left the gun and the diamond in the other nightstand, the
one not containing any type of salvation. With a brief sigh, he
tucked the scotch, the gun and the diamond into his jacket, leaving
the bible for the next guest, and walked to the balcony just as the
first knock sounded at the door. Polite, apologetic - the front desk
clerk with the glasses. As he stepped out onto the balcony he heard
the second knock. Firm, authoritative - the police. By the time the
door was thrown open, he was gone.

Where would be the fun, he thought, crab walking on the sixth story
ledge, if that was it. No little bright red dot precursing a full
metal jacket outreach, at least not yet he could see (oh, little cars,
little, little cars). He stopped on the ledge for a moment. Let's
see, couldn't hear the choppers, but then again the traffic below made
a bit of noise (step man step). No one had shouted for him to stop
yet, but it wouldn't be long until the cops were through the door
(almost to the corner).

So where was it?

Behind him the first kick hit the door, muffled by the distance. If
he didn't hurry, the might get him before the cops did, but at least
there was no snow this time round. The corner, he stopped and looked
over. At the corner the ledge disappeared into a column running down
the length of the building. As he followed it down the length, he saw
the crowd gathering at its base, and at their center, a large net held
by a half dozen individuals.

One of them, noticing him looking up, waved, and, he was certain, flash a smile.

4/1/2008, Sean

4/1/2008

Citizen Zero
1st Issue
Page One
Layout-Seven Panels Six small running down the length and one large
panel dominating page

Panel One-Alarm Clock starts buzzing at 6:00 am in the darkness

Panel Two-Hand reaches out and slaps alarm

Panel Three- Alarm Clock starts buzzing at 6:10 am in the darkness

Panel Four- Hand reaches out and slaps alarm

Panel Five- Alarm Clock starts buzzing at 6:20 am in the darkness

Panel Six-Alarm disappears in "swoop action"

Panel Seven-shot from behind in bathroom, with Mark staring into the
mirror. He's leaning forward, and in the light the mirror shows the
"bucky" raccoon eyes. In front of him there's a couple bottles of
brightly colored pills. In the background, through the door, a
shattered alarm clock sits. He wears a sleeveless undershirt, a dog
tag chain without the tags, and a few days of unshaven facial hair.
Scratchy thoughtboxes

Mornings are the worst

The headaches

Every day I wake up I am reminded.

The only easy day was yesterday


1st Issue
Page Two
Layout-
New Scene, though Mark's internal dialog continues (same color boxes,
same text). Now it's outside, crescent moon over wheat fields. Dawn
threatens.

Panel One-Close up of the runner head shaved, wearing scrubs,
sprinting with an animal tag stapled to his left ear. Shot is over
right shoulder, so this is difficult to see.

It would help to have something to get up for.

Panel Two-Pan back as he runs through half grown wheat. A shadow of
dawn threatens in the distant horizon, but nothing more than an
afterthought of color.

Something to care about

Panel Three-He hits a fence and starts climbing quickly, but now we
are looking at him through crosshairs, illuminated by muted, red
light.

But Dakota traps worse than any prison

Panel Four-The target jerks, obviously hit, still sighted through the sights.

No one gets out.

Panel Five-pan back, figure standing, in the wheat. A bolt action
rifle has been lowered slightly, smoking, and he appears as little
more than a silhouette. His smile can be made out, but little else.
He has a high and tight haircut.

No one

3/12/2008

From Sean:
Five Challenges, Pick three

1. Create the greatest villain ever known
2. Write a plot in adventure format (check out the D&D section in www.wizards.com). The idea here is not to write fantasy, it doesn't have to be fantasy (White Wolf has some adventures to check out in semi-modern format) or including a single bit of rules. What I am looking for is plot, locations, villains, etc laden with possibility, to which one can plug any character.
3. Without prior planning, spew 10 characters in less than an hour.
4. Write a scene for a psychedelic 60s tv show
5. Write a fairy tale in 500 words or less

From Dara:
And here you go, in no particular order.

1 - Invent a dialect (accent, slang, etc.) and write a scene employing it.
2 - Write a slapstick comedy.
3 - Get ready to write (pen / paper or computer), start a stopwatch, write for 5 minutes without stopping. No planning ahead, no editing during or after.
4 - Describe two of your least likable characters playing a game together (any type of game - board, cards, sport, etc.).
5 - Walk to a different room, pick the first object your eyes land on, write it as the holy grail.

2/7/2008, Dara

consider the rat
as he examines the remains of the old year
with a professional scavenger's eye
he sifts though the debris
the piles of rubble, the molding stacks of paper
the heaps of old toys and broken things
his sharp claws dig and pry
looking for tasty morsels and shiny bits left behind

half a chocolate bar
a lost set of keys
his prizes are few, and he understands why
he knows the appetite of the one who came before him
the owner of the old year
not the timid rabbit but the greedy pig
and recognizes the marks of teeth and tusks
and sees the marks of hooves
that crushed whatever could not be eaten

but the rat by nature is not one to dwell or brood
nose twitching, whiskers alert
he turns hopefully toward the year to come

Space for rent?

Just here to dust the spiderwebs...

As promised, Sean's next writing assignment:

In your next piece, explore the hobbies of whatever characters appear. Yes, they've got to have hobbies, doesn't everyone? They've also got to have families. You should explore the relationship of at least one character with his or her father or mother. Finally, in honor of the coming elections, I think you should bring in a political theme.

I promise, more things that should have been posted previously will be posted, eventually, such as Sean's last 2 or 3 pieces which I currently possess in their cryptic hand-written form and must translate with the help of a blind, telepathic Shaolin priest, and my last piece which currently exists only in theory (but it's a strong theory, yet to be disproved by experiment). I promise these things soon-ish. In the meantime.... ooh, look, a mindless distraction! www.kittenwars.com.