AndyC

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<Snipped quote by AndyC>

It's okay I don't blame you. I blame Batman.

@Sep

Well, I mean, I was the one who proposed the team-up.....

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Bonus points for myth-accurate redhead Thor.

@GreenGrenade

It's up for debate as to whether the mythological Thor was a redhead, or if Marvel got it right and he was a blonde. In Snorri Sturluson's Edda, he says that "His hair was fairer than gold," which could very well mean he was blonde, but 'fair' in Old Norse just means 'beautiful' rather than light-colored, and it's confused even more by the fact that the Edda calls gold "red wealth." And just to be even more confusing, most blonde Nordic men of the era had red beards, so he might have actually been both.

Eventually later Sagas did solidify that Thor had a red beard, but those were written long after the Eddas, and were often written either directly by Christian monks or at least from a distinctly Christian perspective, intent on showing Thor and the other Aesir as either outdated or openly villainous to turn the Norse people to Christianity. So while the Thor that was actually worshipped and praised might have had red hair, the version that definitely did was put forward by people who didn't believe in him and didn't want anyone else to either.

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I was hoping @AndyC would be available after I finished so Supes and Flash could have a chat but darn Batman.

@Sep

Yeah, sorry about that. I was hoping to get more done faster than I have, but I seem to have made "setups without payoffs" my over-arching theme for Season 1.

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If I can get the mid-2000s emo fringe, I'm all in.

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So it's a real breath of fresh air to see you avoiding it since Smallville had Clark beating that horse repeatedly over its ten seasons.

@Lord Wraith

I could write a book of all the things from Smallville that I'm avoiding. But then that would defeat the purpose because writing it would mean I'm not avoiding writing it, and....well, y'know.

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@AndyC, I really enjoyed that latest Superman post. The dynamic between Lois and Clark is coming off really natural which I find lends itself to the immersion of the first person perspective. At first I wasn't a huge fan of the idea that Lois was aware of Clark's true identity so early on but as I read each new post I can see why the decision was made and I think it helps enforce the idea that Lois Lane is a Pulitzer Winning Investigative Journalist instead of it being more of an informed attribute like in some media.

@Lord Wraith

Thanks, man. I've always struggled with writing the Lois and Clark relationship in its early stages, so I figured this time I wouldn't bother trying to plan things out and just go where the banter takes them. I always figured Lois should know early on if not immediately, mostly because it makes her look dumb if she's the one person who spends more time around Clark in both of his personae than anyone else and she can't put two and two together, and also because I feel like the whole "keeping a secret identity is really hard" angle is something better suited for a character like Spidey. Besides, Lois is a lot more fun to write if she's a partner-in-crime than if she's trying to balance between being a love interest and a pseudo-antagonist making Clark's life more difficult.

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"So then I take the fork from my salad, put it up to Lombard's face, and tell him 'if you can't keep your eyes from wandering, don't be surprised when you lose one,'" Lois says as we head down the stairs of the train platform, about two blocks from Grant Park for her meeting with Dr. Irons. "I mean, obviously I wouldn't actually do it, but you should've seen the look on his face."

"Why didn't you just report him to HR?" I ask, stepping over a puddle of fresh vomit on the cracked and overgrown sidewalk.

"I've handled mob bosses, terrorists, and Senators, Clark," she says with a chuckle. "I can handle the office creeper. Besides, being raised by a career soldier like my dad had at least one perk: if Lombard ever did try something, I'd snap half of his fingers before he even knew what was happening."

"I didn't know you were from a military family," I say.

About twenty paces behind us, a rusty powder-blue van with an idling engine has slowly pulled away from the curb and is now matching our speed. I give Lo a nudge, and without missing a beat, she starts walking faster.

"Army brat," she says, not so much as flinching at the thought that we're being tailed. "The old man's been traveling around the world blowing stuff up in the name of freedom since before I was born."

"My dad served for a while too, actually," I say, looking for an open shop or alleyway we can duck into as the van gradually accelerates. I could just turn around and flip the thing with one hand if I wanted, but I don't want to start making a mess-- not to mention expose my identity-- if I can avoid it. Better to just duck them. "Fought in the Gulf War about two years before they adopted me."

"Huh, so chances are your dad worked for my dad," says Lois, reaching into her bag for what I assume is her can of pepper spray. "Small world, isn't it, Smallv--*whuh!*"

While I'm focused on the approaching van, as soon as we pass a row of boarded-up stores, an arm shoots out from around the corner and pulls Lois into the alley. The van hits the gas, intent to either herd me into the alley with her or run me over. I lunge forward, and am met with the muzzle of a pump-action shotgun pointed at my face.

"All right, asshole, don't try nothin' stupid," says a man to my left, wearing grungy sweats and what looks like a respirator over his mouth and nose, and holding a knife to Lois's throat. "Wallet an' phone, now, or I cut this bitch and then my pal blows your fuckin' head off!"

Behind me, the van screeches to a halt, blocking off the alleyway from the street. Two more guys with respirators over their faces step out, one with a crowbar, the other with a bike chain.

"So, what's with the hardware-store masks, guys?" Lois asks, completely unfazed. "Are you trying to go for a sci-fi look? Or were you stripping out some old asbestos when you saw us pass by?"

"Shut your fuckin' mouth!" the knife-wielding mugger barks. "You won't be makin' jokes when the 'Cutioner turns your friend here extra fuckin' crispy!"

"'The 'Cutioner?'" I ask, fumbling for my wallet as a fifth figure emerges from the van. Like the others, he's got a mask covering his face, and is wearing some kind of high-tech suit.

"That's the Electrocutioner, you idiots," he says, cerulean arcs of artificial lightning crackling across the surface of his suit. "And you should feel thankful. You two are gonna be the first in a loooong line of people in this city who are gonna feel the thunder."

Putting my wallet on the ground, I then stand up slowly, my hands up, and look the 'Electrocutioner' in the eye.

"You don't have to do this," I tell him.

"Maybe you're right," he says with a shrug. "Maybe I just want to. Maybe I don't like out-of-towners telling me what I do and don't have to do. Maybe I'm gonna fry you because I don't like your attitude. Maybe I wanna make a name for myself by fryin' people who tell me I 'don't have to do this' til I get the Bat's attention, then I fry him too!"

He opens the palm of his hand, several thousand volts dancing across his fingertips. I don't break my glare as he places his palm directly on my forehead.

"Cops don't come to this part of town," he snarls. "And it's broad fuckin' daylight. So even the Bat-Man ain't comin' to save you today, pal."

He triggers the weapon, sending enough voltage to incinerate an average man in seconds through my body. It tingles a little bit.

"About Bat-Man not being here," I say, taking off my glasses. "I've got some good news, and some bad news."

Placing my own palm on his chest, I give him a light shove, which slams him into the side of the van hard enough to tip it over.

"Wh-what the--" the henchman with the knife sputters. "Y-you're, you're not--......ohhh, shit!"

"'Oh shit' is right," Lois sneers, then grabs the man's pinkie finger while he's distracted and pries it away, dislocating the finger and taking the knife away from his throat. She follows that with a hammer-fist to the man's groin, and as he doubles over, she smashes the point of her elbow into the back of his head.

The one with the crowbar swings as hard as he can at my head. I don't bother trying to avoid it, and instead let it bounce harmlessly off my skull. The vibrations from the impact resonate up the man's arm and he drops his weapon. I chuck the chain-wielding mugger into him, and both men crash hard into the brick wall of the alley.

In a panic, the man with the shotgun points his gun wildly, and fires. For a fraction of a fraction of a second, I grin, knowing that the buckshot might as well be spitballs. Then I realize it's not going to hit me at all.

It's going to hit Lois.

Time slows to a crawl as the buckshot pushes through the air across the two feet or so between the gun and Lois. I'm about four feet away now, closing as fast as I can.

In one of her first articles about me for the Planet, Lois described my top speed rather dramatically as "faster than a speeding bullet." And if it were just a bullet, I might be able to get there in time, to pluck the bullet out of the air. But not that many of them. Most of them are going to hit, and when they do....

Diving headlong, I try to put myself in between Lois and the buckshot. Inches stretch like miles between me and her, the shot growing ever closer. I'm not going to make it. Oh God, I'm not going to make it.

In the few millimeters she has left, I reach out as far as I can, and my fingertips brush against her hand. I'm sorry, Lois. I'm so sorry.

My hand takes hers for the last time as I see the buckshot shred through her shirt and connect with her chest.....

.......then bounce off harmlessly. It might as well have been a handful of birdseed.

As time speeds back up, Lois staggers back in shock as I crash on the ground in front of her.

"....the hell?" she says, as surprised as everyone else that there isn't a ragged hole through her torso.

The mugger with the shotgun stands gobsmacked, the gun clattering in his hands as he trembles, still pointed at the both of us as I stand up and glare at him.

"Start running," I order, and he obliges, dropping his weapon and scrambling away like the devil himself was after him. The 'Electrocutioner' and the rest of his goons are still lying on the ground around us, groaning in pain, as I turn to Lois.

"Oh my God, you're...you're okay? I say, the bravado in my voice fading now that the fight is over.

"Yeah, I...I think so?" she says, patting herself down to inspect for injuries while I try not to notice the huge gaping hole in the front of her blouse. "How I'm okay I have no idea, but--.....wait, let me see something."

Picking up the knife from the first mugger, she places the blade against the back of her hand. "Ah!" She winces as she gives herself a small cut, drawing a thin trickle of blood.

"Lois, what are you--"

"Conducting an experiment," she says, placing the same hand on my chest. She places the knife against the back of her hand a second time....and this time, the blade itself scratches.

"Huh," she mutters. "Now that's interesting."

"I guess it has something to do with my abilities," I say. "I've been able to expand my gravitational field around objects I'm holding so I can move them without damaging them. I didn't realize it worked on people, too."

"So, in theory," she says, taking a moment to suck on her wound, "as long as you're touching someone, they can't be hurt."

"I guess so."

She looks at me for a moment, raising a curious eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nothing," she says, catching herself. "Just...opens up some possibilities. But we'll deal with that later. Right now, we should probably get going before the cops arrive. Besides, I still need to meet with Dr. Irons."

"You, *ahem*, might want to get a new top first," I remind her.

"What's--oh, oh Jesus!" she exclaims, finally aware of the damage done to her clothing and pulling her jacket closed. "Well, thanks for telling me now, Boy Scout! Hope you enjoyed the show."

"Hey, I didn't look," I say, taking off my own jacket and giving it to her so she can cover up. "Wouldn't be right."

She gives me another curious glance, then laughs.

"Hah! Your loss," she says. "We're not too far from the commercial district, there's gotta be a decent store around here somewhere. C'mon."

Holding my jacket closed with one hand, she grabs my hand with the other and leads me back out into the street.

She's taking this all in stride now, but looking back at the would-be super-villain lying in the wreck of his overturned van, and the shotgun lying on the asphalt, I can't help but start thinking of how much worse that could have gone. If I wasn't, well, me, we wouldn't have survived that. They would have killed the both of us, and who knows how many other people before someone stopped them. Even with me and my abilities, Lois very nearly didn't make it out of there.

That's Gotham City, I guess. Makes a hell of a first impression.

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All gaming reviews that give scores are trash because opinions can be boiled down to numbers. #HardStance

@HenryJonesJr

I give this comment a 7.5 out of 10.

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On the subject of the totally plagiarized from Elric of Melnibone Witcher series and of getting a semi, that gameplay reveal of Cyberpunk 2077 looked pretty sweet. I mean, it's definitely leaning pretty hard on edgy-boy shock value, but if you're not going for edgy-boy shock value, are you even doing cyberpunk at all? And I can't take the sidekick character seriously when he's speaking in that Dora-the-Explorer white-people Spanish that everyone does with Latino characters, where they speak perfectly fluent English but then just say one random word in Spanish per sentence. But the game itself looks like a lot of fun.

Of course, given that these pre-scripted 'gameplay demos' are almost never indicative of the final product, I fully expect them to deliver on maybe 30% of what they're promising, but even then it oughta be pretty enjoyable. Now to just sit and wait for it along with Star Citizen, Half-Life 3, the original build of Duke Nukem Forever, Bill and Ted 3, the live-action Akira, Del Toro's Mountains of Madness, Dr. Dre's detox, the last Song of Ice and Fire books, and all the other cool stuff that will never, ever, ever actually come out.

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

"You're running late, Smallville," says Lois, her arms crossed and shooting me an impatient look as I jog up the stairs to the platform.

"I know," I say as I meet her, a cup of coffee from O'Shaughnessy's in my right hand and a sausage-egg-and-cheese O'Muffin in the other. "I had to grab some breakfast on the way."

"Wouldn't your Mom make you something?"

I shrug.

"I didn't want to wake her up," I say. "Besides, a cross-country flight can really work up an appetite."

I took it easy flying back from Smallville this morning, not pushing myself as hard as I would in an emergency. It's a luxury I haven't gotten to indulge in much lately, being able to just fly and enjoy it without lives being in immediate danger. Taking the slow route, weaving back and forth to evade detection from satellite, I'm able to stretch the trip out to almost forty-five minutes instead of the usual three.

Still, even taking it easy, the trip left me feeling more than a little drained. I'm still not at a hundred percent after the excitement in Central City, catching a crashing airliner and tangling with the Silver Surfer. To be honest, I haven't really had much time at all to get back up to full strength, since even without cosmic entities threatening to destroy the world, the Toyman has been running me ragged with something new seemingly every other day.

Honestly, a day just hoofing it and doing my actual job would probably do me some good.

"Well, it's honestly just as well that you didn't get here on time," she says, a low rumble on the tracks starting to draw closer. "The Whale's never on time anyway."

The Cross-Bay High-Speed Rail System-- known to the locals as the "Rail Whale" due to the train's size and the track's proximity to the water-- is a massive rail system styled after the Japanese bullet-trains, stretching from Opal City through Metropolis to Gotham City and Blüdhaven. On any given day, the trains shuttle tens of thousands of commuters between the four cities, reaching speeds of about 200 miles per hour on the open straightaways. Most people thought the project was going to be a boondoggle, a waste of billions of dollars and years of construction on something that would probably never actually be completed. Thanks to substantial investments and input from LexCorp, however, the entire thing was finished in a matter of months.

The train pulls into the station, its hydraulics letting out a loud hiss as the large sleek silver-blue cars slow to a halt. The doors slide open, and dozens of people begin filing out, making their way to their workplaces or wherever else the day takes them. I wolf down the last of my breakfast, then Lois and I step onto the train, and have no trouble finding seats.

Once the commuters step off the train, in fact, we're the only ones in this particular car. Plenty of people live in Gotham City who work in Metropolis. A whole lot fewer do the other way around.

After another minute or so, the doors on the car slide close, and a pre-recorded message plays over the train's PA.

"Thank you for choosing the Cross-Bay Rail," I hear the voice of Lex Luthor say, "and I hope you'll enjoy the trip, as well as the complimentary free Wi-Fi. Don't forget to provide your feedback at the LexCorp kiosk at the station when you arrive. Next stop, Gotham City!"

I can feel my lip curl just a bit. I can't help but notice that Luthor only really started to ramp up his presence in Metropolis after I moved here. Nowadays I can't seem to turn around without seeing his face, hearing his voice, or reading his name in the city. While I've got nothing really to hold against him, I've heard plenty of less-than-pleasant rumors about what goes on in the deeper levels of his company. Things I'm going to have to look into sooner or later. Even if it turns out he's harmless, I can't help but find him a little annoying.

"So," I say to Lois, "You said you had a lead on the Toyman story?"

"Got a meet-up with Dr. Irons," she nods. "You remember that interview he did for that blowhard Godfrey?"

"Yeah, you said he was blinking in Morse Code," I recall. "His message didn't make any sense, though."

Lois puts up a finger to make a point.

"That's what I thought, too, until I realized I was misreading it," she says. "When I picked up on what he was doing, I was reading it as H-O-T T-S-C. Which, of course, is gibberish. But I was reading the letters out of order. I should've been starting with the S. S-C-H-O-T-T."

"So it's a name," I conclude. "Someone named 'Schott.' You think it's a suspect?"

"Don't know for sure," she shrugs. "I did some digging on Dr. Irons, though. Turns out he didn't found SteelWorks alone. When he started, he had a business partner, a guy by the name of Winslow Schott. They had some kind of falling out, and Schott went completely off the grid. That's all I could get from Irons over the phone, but he said he had more. He said Metropolis wasn't safe, so he suggested we meet in Gotham instead."

Lois looks out the window, the skyline of Metropolis shrinking behind us as trees and buildings blur past.

"What exactly makes him think Gotham City is a good choice is beyond me," she scoffs. "I was hoping he'd pick somewhere a little safer. Like, say, the inside of an active volcano."

"That's a little unfair," I say. "I mean, sure, the city's got its problems, but I think most of the people there are just trying to get by."

"That's sweet, Clark, it really is," says, "but don't forget why you're going on this field trip. The closest thing they've got to a super-hero is a guy who beats up cops and tries to kill a DA."

"Well, that's what they're saying," I concede, "but the other reason I want this story is to get past the sensationalism, find out what's really going on. Maybe there's more to the Bat-Man than people are saying."

Lois considers it for a minute, then says, "I saw a documentary a while back. It was about this wildlife conservationist, a well-meaning hippie-type who made it his life's work to protect the grizzly bears up in Alaska. And okay, that's a good sentiment at first, protecting the environment, saving the animals from industrialization and all that. But he has this romantic image of the bears, this idea that he can make some kind of connection with them, that they can reach an understanding."

"What happened?" I ask.

"What do you think happened? A bear ate him," she answers. "Point is, not everyone you run into is going to be friendly. You've traveled around the world, like me. You've seen people do some really awful things. Sometimes a wild animal is just a wild animal. Keep that in mind while you go Bat-hunting."

"Hmm," is what I manage, not really wanting to admit that she's got a good point. Things went well with the Flash, but that doesn't mean it's always going to work out that way.

"While we're on the subject," she asks, "you have any leads?"

"Just one so far," I answer. "The police captain involved in the altercation with the Bat-Man. A Captain Jim Gordon. I've done a little reading up on him; he seems to be on the level. A few commendations, seems like a pretty upstanding officer."

Lois gives a mirthless chuckle.

"In the GCPD, that means one of two things," she says, "either his record only looks clean because he's got leverage on anyone who might have dirt on him, or he's a few weeks away from having an unfortunate 'accident.'"

"Come on, it can't be that bad."

"Well, one way or another, you're gonna find out soon enough," she says as the tracks head out over the Bay. "Next stop, Bear Country."