Avatar of AndyC

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

Opinionated nerd for hire.

Most Recent Posts



SOLITUDE

FINALE


Shi Hao Xia Savings and Trust
Chinatown, Metropolis
Two Months Ago


"All right, everybody down!" shouted a gravely voice, coming from a man decked from head to toe in hi-tech armor. "This place is now officially under the gun of the one an' only Barrage! You don't try anything stupid, and I don't blast any of you to dust!"

As the panic-stricken crowd cowered before him, the armored man sneered, brandishing the massive cannon slung under his right arm.

"Well, maybe I don't blast most of you, anyway," he said. "Depends on my mood."

A green-uniformed security guard began to approach him from behind, drawing a taser from his back pocket. Before he could reach him, however, Barrage wheeled around, smashing the man across the jaw with the barrel of his cannon. With a sickening crack and a spray of blood, the guard crumpled to the ground, a loose tooth clattering across the tiled floor.

"Ohhhh, man," said Jimmy Olsen, peeking out from behind a teller's desk a few yards away, snapping photos of the armored criminal, "this is really bad."

"You're telling me," Lois Lane said as she fumbled through her purse for her voice recorder. "This is the third place Barrage has hit in the past five days. There's no way a loser like this should be able to operate in Metropolis without Superman shutting him down in a hurry."

"No kidding," said Jimmy, his timbre beginning to shake nervously. "Where the heck is the big guy, anyway?"

Lois sighed, her own worry plain as day across her face.

Clark had been staying over at her apartment when, in the small hours of the morning, he had gotten out of bed to 'check on something.' He hadn't been back since.

She'd gotten used to him vanishing in a split-second to go tend to some emergency on the other end of the world, but he was usually back within a few minutes, an hour or two at the most.

This time, however, nobody had seen or heard from Superman in five days.

She knew danger came with the job, but this was Clark, a man who could shrug off death rays and bunker-busters like they were nothing. This was a man who was caught in a nuclear blast, and was back on his feet an hour later.

What the hell could have happened to him?

"Wish I could tell you," she answered, not wanting to see what the thug with the cannon was about to do next.

Sure enough, Barrage turned his gun on the downed security guard, the barrel beginning to glow a bright blue.

"Looks like you people need an example," he said, sporting an eager grin as he charged his weapon. "This is what happens when you fu--"

FWOOOOOSH!


The interior of the Shi Hao Xia Savings and Trust Bank erupted into a storm of flying papers and upended furniture as a gale-force wind blasted through the room. A blur of blue and red, mixing together into a violet comet, surrounded Barrage for a moment, the sound of crunching metal and electrical sparks emerging from inside the blur.

Jimmy peered out from behind his cover, and as the chaos cleared, he was able to snap a photo of Barrage, now unarmed and stripped of most of his suit, held by the scruff of his neck by a familiar figure.



"That's enough of that....Barrage, was it?" said Superman, his old T-shirt and jeans replaced with a sleek blue uniform. "You're not hurting anyone else today."

"What the--"

"Superman!" Lois exclaimed, jumping out from behind the desk to approach the Man of Steel. Frankly, she wasn't sure if she wanted to kiss him or slap him across the mouth. "Where the hell have you been?!"

Caught off-guard somewhat by the question, Superman gaped for a moment.

"I, erm, I think I should finish dealing with this guy first before going into that," he said, embarrassed.

"Oh, he's easy," Lois scoffed. "Philip Karnowsky, a career criminal who's been working as a hold-up man for various syndicates for a few years now. This whole 'Barrage' routine is new, though. He hit the Shen Li Po Gardens five days ago, killed twelve and injured another thirty or so. Then two days ago he leveled Shen Lo's Electronics, killed five and injured six. This is his third job this week."

"This isn't a 'job,' lady, this is a war!" Karnowsky snarled, struggling in vain against Superman's grip. "I'm a one-man army, an' this isn't--"

"Oh, and that 'one-man army' bit?" Lois continued, "You really shouldn't have been so obvious with your targets. All three of the places you hit are owned by the Sheeda Triads. That's why I knew to be here today. The Sheedas are the biggest rival to Intergang in the city. So while you're pretending to be some independent lone-wolf lunatic, it's blatantly obvious you're really working for Bruno Mannheim, aren't you?"

"That would explain where he got his gear!" Jimmy said, snapping pictures of the apprehended killer. "Everyone's saying that Mannheim's been dealing with experimental super-weapons, trying to find the firepower to take on metahumans like....well, like you. Barrage is--...was packing a one-of-a-kind particle projector cannon, one that STAR Labs was saying could have flattened a city block if he went all-out with it!"

"A particle cannon, eh?" Superman said, looking at Karnowsky with a raised eyebrow. "That might have actually hurt if you had the chance to hit me with it."

"Y-you....you p-piece of--....." Karnowsky stammered before shouting out. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

"No you won't," Superman responded, not even the least bit phased by the criminal's threat.

"Anyway, now that he's taken care of," Lois cut back in, whipping out her voice recorder, "Let's get to the important question: where have you been for the past five days? How come this moron was able to get away with killing seventeen people while you were gone?"

The tone of her voice made it perfectly clear to the Man of Steel that this wasn't Lois Lane, his lover and closest personal confidant, asking questions for her own sake. This was Lois Lane, the hard-nosed reporter, asking questions to a powerful man who needed to be held accountable.

"It's.....it's kind of a long story," he answered sheepishly. "One that I don't necessarily want to just shout out in public."

Lois, not happy with having to wait but knowing she wasn't going to get her answers just yet, gave Superman a nonplussed look, then put her voice recorder away.

"Rooftop, one hour," she said, determined to do this on her terms. "Make sure they put this guy away, then I want something I can use."




Rooftop of the Daily Planet
One Hour Later


"......I can't use any of this," Lois said, throwing up her hands in frustration.

"Sorry, but it's the truth," Clark shrugged, an apologetic look on his face.

"True or not, if I run this, Perry's going to kick me out in the street, if he doesn't have me sent to the looney bin," she said, pacing back and forth. "I mean, Superman disappears for five days, comes back with a new suit-- which, off the record, does a phenomenal job of showing off your pecs-- and when asked where he's been, what do I tell everyone? That you were exploring an abandoned alien colony at the North Pole? That you were nearly trapped forever in some kind of black-hole dimension by your robot butler? That your new suit is based on an ancient extraterrestrial version of the Knights of the Round Table, made for you by your birth-parents' ghosts?"

"I know it sounds crazy--"

"It sounds certifiably insane, Smallville," Lois cut him off. "And for all I can prove, you might have just made it all up."

"Come on, Lois, you know me," Clark pleaded.

"That's right," Lois nodded. "I know you. I believe you. I trust you. You tell me that you've spent the past five days clearing out some mysterious Fortress of Solitude, and I'll stand by you."

"'Fortress of Solitude,' heh," he chuckled. "I'm using that."

"But that's not the point," Lois said. "Even if I'm able to convince Perry to let me run that story, how do you think the public is going to react-- let alone people like Luthor or Godfrey-- when they hear that not only is Superman from another planet, but he's got a secret hideout full of crazy alien technology? How long before half the world's governments are banging on the door demanding you share Kryptonian secrets with them? Or before some nutjob finds a way in to get their hands on a doomsday device? Hell, how many obsessive Super-stalkers are going to end up freezing to death in the Arctic Circle hoping to find your secret getaway and sneak a picture of you naked in the shower or something?"

"I don't know," Clark admitted, scratching the back of his head. "I don't want to just hide it away and act like it's not there, but I don't know what's in it. I still need to make sure if it's safe for Ea--....for people to explore. If the things in the Fortress can actually be used for humanity's benefit, or if there's a risk of accidentally releasing something that might hurt people. Then, I can start letting in people I trust. Until then, I don't know.....maybe we just sit on the story?"

Lois rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to suppress a stress headache.

"You've really put me in a tricky situation here, Smallville," she said. "People died while you were gone, and they need to know why you weren't there. I'm not going to write a lie, but there's no way they'll believe the truth. And if I just sit on it, well....that's another one added to the great big pile of Clark Kent's secrets I've been building at the expense of my journalistic integrity. It's getting pretty damn difficult for you to be you, for me to be me, and for us to be, well...us."

"...are you saying we shouldn't be...us?" Clark asked.

Lois paused for a moment as she thought it over, then shook her head.

"No, no way in hell," she said, her conviction returning. "We'll make it work. You do a thousand things every day that are just plain impossible. I think I can deal with 'difficult.' Besides, I remember how mopey and moody you were when you were trying to go it alone; no way I'm letting you go all navel-gazing again."

A wave of relief washed over Clark, and he gave a smile that could light up Glennmorgan Square.

"Good, that's....great actually," he said. "I, erm, I still need to tell Mom about everything, but once I get back, I'll cook dinner tonight. Sound good?"

"You'd better, you owe me after running off like that," Lois said, putting her arms around him. "And hey, whatever questions about yourself, or your home, or whatever else might be bugging you, you don't have to go looking for that by yourself, okay? Whatever happens, you and me? We're in this together. Got it?"

"Got it," Clark smiled, as Lois's hand cradled the back of his head to pull him close for a long, deep kiss.

All of their individual worries, all of their doubts and concerns and fears for the future, all fell away as they embraced. None of it mattered compared to this.

Clark Kent, Kal-El of Krypton, may have been the last of his kind.....

.....but come what may, he was not alone.




The Danvers Farm
Outskirts of Midvale, Delaware
02:42am


The night was quiet and still, the air of late fall just cold enough to turn the dew into a thin layer of frost that would be thawed by sunrise. A few clouds drifted lazily through the deep inky black sky, glittering with stars that, just a short drive away in Metropolis, would be drowned out by the lights of the city itself. For nearly a mile in all directions, the only creature stirring was a rabbit that had gotten through the fence and was gnawing on a head of lettuce.

The Danvers Farm was well known to the people of Midvale, but somewhere they rarely visited. Devoutly Amish until the last generation or so, the very large family was known for having the best pumpkins in the tri-county area, as well as the worst social skills. This of course led to all sorts of unsavory rumors circulating about them, but in truth they mostly just kept to themselves and had trouble keeping up with the rest of the world. Fred Danvers, his wife Edna, and the immense network of brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins who lived on the farm or in the surrounding country were well-meaning people who were all too happy to welcome guests and visitors, but couldn't get their heads around using a smartphone, let alone adjust to a world populated by superhumans, and would just as well not be bothered by it.

The cold night air began to stir, at first a gentle breeze, slowly growing into a powerful whirlwind. The rush of air grew stronger and louder, rumbling like a freight train before a bright flash of lightning and a thunderclap that might have woken the dead sent the confused rabbit in the field scampering away into the night. At the heart of the whirlwind, flashes of white and deep black flickered in and out of existence, barely perceptible sparks at first, before they began to take shape.

As the wind grew to the strength of a tornado, tearing up the ground near the heart of the whirlwind, the flashing white and black formed a swirling sphere, a three-dimensional hole in space that began to suck in air and dirt and anything else caught in its pull. Just as the storm grew to its most violent, the white and black lights gave way, and suddenly the air being pulled towards it was pushed away, the sound like a bomb going off.

Where the hole in space had been, there was now a shining silver pod, about six feet in diameter, polished to a mirror shine.

The lights in the Danvers farmhouse had come on, and a lanky, middle-aged man, still wearing his pajamas and bed robe but carrying a double-barreled shotgun, wandered out of the house to approach the silver sphere that had appeared out of nowhere.

"Is everything okay, Fred?" a voice called from back inside the house.

"Stay inside, honey," Fred Danvers called back to his wife. "I, er, I don't rightly know what I'm lookin' at here. Keep the kids inside until I say it's--"

Suddenly, a line of golden light appeared to split the silver pod down the middle. Nervously, Fred held his shotgun up, not sure if he was being visited by an angel, a devil, little green men from Mars, or some elaborate prank. The pod opened, bathing Fred with light so bright he had to look away.

came a voice from inside the pod.

"Y-you stay back now, y'hear?" Fred stammered, the gun rattling in his trembling hands. "I-I- don't wanna h-have to h-h-hurt you, but y-you need t-to--"

Before he could realize what was happening, a smaller silver orb emerged from the larger one, and began to circle around him. Fred could feel a tingling inside of his head, like something was poking around inside his brain.

On instinct, he raised his gun to fire, but a hand reached out from the golden light and, with one finger, turned the gun aside.

"I'll ask again," said the voice, belonging to a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair. "Where am I......and where is Kal-El?"
Still trying to get that last Supes post going. I can make no promises on whether or not I will include barbarian-woman cleavage.
Here's a fun little question for y'all (Now I've said y'all a texan girl I know is on her way to murder me, as she told me never to say it again. So you better answer fast before she gets me).

If you could air your own superhero show (live action), about a character who has not recently had their own TV series who would you choose? Who would you cast (either as the main character or do the whole cast if you're feeling adventerous) and who would your season one big bad be?

I'll post my reply in the morning my lovelies.


Assuming we have HBO money and the effects don't come off as cheesy and embarrassing?

Astro City.

Big ensemble cast, lots of short-form and long-form stories to choose from, and a take on classic superhero nostalgia that isn't dripping with post-modern irony and obnoxious self-reference. I wouldn't necessarily have a 'big bad' to deal with, but I would say season one's over-arching plot would be uncovering the fate of the Silver Agent.

Assuming we have a more limited budget, though, I'd want to do a gangland period piece with The Shadow. Or add Damage Control to the list of Marvel shows on Netflix.

And while it's not live-action, I would kill to see the animators behind Avatar and Legend of Korra do a series for Invincible.
My apologies for not getting posts up more frequently; this week's dress-rehearsal week for my show. I'll try to get up the final post of Clark's gigantic Kryptonian info-dump within the next 48 hours, though.
I vote that we use uwu for now on whenever we are talking about this roleplay.


Funny thing, I picked up RDR2 yesterday, and started watching The Expanse to kill some time while waiting for the game to install. I ended up marathoning the show all day and still haven't actually started playing the game.
Ah, Robotech. What a wonderful Frankenstein's monster of stitched-together anime, which nonetheless was single-handedly responsible for my undying love of mechs in general (though I will say, as a Battletech fanboy, that Harmony Gold can eat a pile of dicks).

Oh, and some stuff about Birds of Prey too. Yeah, I remember that being not very good.


SOLITUDE

PART FOUR


The Fortress
Undisclosed Location in the Arctic
Two Months Ago


"I....I have so many questions, I don't even know where to begin," I say, standing before the forms of two people who claim to be my birth parents-- Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van. At first glance, they seem as 'real' as me, solid enough that I could reach out and touch them. Then, for just a flicker between fractions of a second, they begin to turn fuzzy, like a camera suddenly losing focus. "If you're who you say you are, then....how is this possible? Kelex said that your w--....our home world was destroyed."

"It was," Jor-El answers, his head turning down in sadness, "And us with it. What you see is the residual electromagnetic patterns generated by our nervous systems. Our 'phantoms,' if you pardon the superstitious term. In life, we had experimented venturing into the lower spatial dimension of the Phantom Zone, and in our time there, our consciousness imprinted upon it, echoing even after the destruction of our bodies."

"When you destroyed Kelex's portal, it created a rift between this material plane and the Phantom Zone," Lara explains. "A small one, thankfully, that will only be open a short time. A few minutes, hours perhaps. Once it closes, our phantoms will fade and we will return to eternal rest."

"....is there a way to keep it open?" I ask. "I've spent my whole life looking for...for this, for you. I don't want to lose you again so soon."

"I wish we had more time," says Jor-El. "I truly do. But the longer the rift stays open, the greater the dangers that will befall this world. There are dark things that lurk in the Phantom Zone, my son, things no living being should ever encounter. Even for the short time this rift is open, it may cause other beings to slip between dimensions, some of which even have a physical form. The true horrors in the dark, however, would require the rift to remain open longer. I would gladly choose oblivion to spare you from the denizens of that nightmare realm."

"It is all right, Kal," Lara consoles me. "Your father's destiny was to look to the stars for a distant hope in the blackness. My own destiny was to explore the reaches of realms beyond the physical. And our shared destiny was to give our lives so that the legacy of Krypton could be born anew. For this, to see you here on the world Jor found, through the means of the dimension I explored.....it is more than either of us could have ever hoped."

She gives me a faint smile, one that's genuine but longing, tainted with the sadness that this will be the only time we speak.

"You said it was your 'destiny,' to do this," I say, years of emotions bubbling up, "Kelex was going on about 'destiny,' too, that everyone on Krypton had one special destiny or another that was determined from birth. Then why am I here? Why didn't you or anyone else come to look after me? What was my 'destiny' in this great plan of yours?"

Lara's smile fades, and her image starts to flicker.

"I wish I could tell you," she says, "that there was some grand design in sending you here. That you had a special purpose that only you could achieve. But the Virtue of the House of Van has always been Truth, and as such I could never lie to you that way."

"The truth is simple," Jor-El says, his hand reaching out to hold his wife's but passing through it like mist. "We sent you here to survive. This planet was the only one in our records where you had the optimal chances to survive. The pod I constructed for you was a prototype, with only enough power to contain you. There was a sister ship, designed by my brother, that was tethered to your own pod's Phantom Drive, containing your cousin Kara. She was to protect you, to oversee the Fortress, and ingratiate with the indigenous people. Sadly, her ship did not escape the blast radius in time, and was lost in the Phantom Zone with the other ghosts of our world."

"So you just.....shot me out into space and hoped for the best?!" I say, barely believing what I'm hearing. "What if my pod didn't make it? What if I hadn't been found by Ma and Pa? If I'd been picked by the government and raised in a laboratory? I could have been abducted, or dissected, or turned into a weapon or--"

"Or several million other horrific fates," Lara answers, her tone suddenly stern. "Or several other wonderful fates beyond your wildest fantasies. If we had not done it, there was only one fate that awaited you: the same fiery death that claimed us and the rest of our people."

"We would have chosen a better option in an instant, if any existed," Jor-El says, his own voice full of regret. "We simply ran out of time, and made the only decision we could with what he had left."

My frustration, my anger, all of the pent-up feelings of abandonment and longing I'd felt my whole life, start to fall away. I'd always assumed whoever sent me here, they must have had some grand design or purpose for me. As it turns out, my mother and father were just scared and desperate, doing whatever they could to keep their child safe.

"...so....what now?" I ask, unsure of myself. "What do I do?"

Jor-El and Lara look into each other's eyes, then back to me.

"That is for you to decide," my mother answers. "You were not born through the Birthing Matrices, no genetic sculpting to shape your destiny. You were Free-born, from an act of our love. Many in our society considered such an act vulgar, even heretical, but we always had Hope that the freedom to choose your own destiny would lead to greater things."

"We have seen the destiny you have chosen for yourself," Jor-El says, his smile returning, "and we could not be more proud. You could have become a tyrant, a ruler, a god-king. Instead, you choose to be a servant of the downtrodden, a protector of the innocent, a champion of justice. I cannot offer you a destiny, but I can at least offer you a gift. Kelex, activate the matter compiler, aligned to my present thought-pattern."

Yes, Master Jor-El, Kelex responds, and a silver pod rises from the floor.

"When I was a child," my father says, "I was enamored with a series of old legends, stories from our people's ancient past. They say our society was founded by a league of heroes, adventurers and explorers who challenged the unknown and fought back the forces of darkness."

"The Sons of Krypton," Lara interjects, her own eyes lighting up with excited reverence.

"Yes," Jor-El says with a slight chuckle, "Born free, and born of love. The Sons of Krypton founded the Eleven Great Houses, established the Virtues that were the bedrock of our society. Together, they fought off the Tyrant Sun, tamed the bizarre creatures of the Underverse, and outwitted the malevolent trickster gods of the Fifth Dimension. The Twelve Great Labors of the Sons of Krypton was a story that was told and retold through countless generations. All impossible nonsense, to be sure, but with perhaps a spark of true history somewhere in them. I would like to believe that at some point, there really were Sons of Krypton, fighting a never-ending battle for truth and justice."

As they speak, their forms begin to fade. The rift to the Phantom Zone must be closing for good. Neither of them seem to mind.

"And on this world, in due time, the things that were impossible to us will be a trifle to you," Lara says, beaming. "If you wish for it, you can give the people of this world an ideal to strive toward, unlike anything they have seen before."

Matter fabrication complete, says Kelex, and the pod before me begins to open.

"This is your inheritance, my son," says Jor-El, "your birthright. The Fortress is yours, and everything in it-- the archives, the family reliquary, the laboratory and everything else you may need. Kelex will obey your every command, without question or hesitation. You are now the master of this place, Kal, and the keeper of our legacy."

Their bodies are now translucent, the details of their faces fading as their forms lose focus. Their voices start to sound muffled, like hearing them underwater.

"We give you all of our love, and all of our Hope," Lara says, reaching out to stroke my cheek, her arm fading into fog before it can touch me. "You may carry it with you for all of your days, and know that even if you truly are the last of us....you will never be alone."

"Born free, and born of love," Jor-El says, his smiling face the last bit of him that remains as the pod opens and reveals what is inside, "this is who you have chosen to be, Kal-El....."



"....the Last Son of Krypton....."
Do you call your dog a Canis lupus familiaris too, ya nerd?!


No, but I also don't call them some random word that got incorrectly associated with them because someone overheard it in a movie while talking about dogs.

Although that might just be because I don't have a dog.
I love Lovecraftian themes, but am not a fan of Lovecraft himself.


I'm that way with Bob Dylan-- love listening to other bands cover his songs, but I can't stand the guy's voice.
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet