You're upstairs with the boyfriend while I'm left here to listen (angry)

I hear you calling his name, I hear the stutter of ignition (angry)

I could hear you whispering as I crept by your door

So you found some other joker who could please you more

 

I'm not angry (angry)

I'm not angry anymore (angry)

I'm not angry (angry)

I'm not angry anymore (angry)

 

Ooh, I know what you're doin'

I know where you've been

I know where, but I don't care

'Cause there's-a no such thing as an original sin

 

I've got this camera click, click, clickin' in my head (angry)

I got you talking with your hands, got you smiling with your legs (angry)

Spent all my time in a vanity factory

Wonderin' when they're gonna come and take it all back

 

I'm not angry (angry)

I'm not angry anymore (angry)

I'm not angry (angry)

I'm not angry anymore (angry)

 

Ooh, I know what you're doin'

I know where you've been

I know where, but I don't care

'Cause there's-a no such thing as an original sin

 

Yeah, yeah

Oh, there's no such thing as an original sin

Oh, there's-a no such thing as an original sin (angry)

I'm not angry (angry)

I'm not angry anymore (angry)

I'm not angry (angry)

I'm not angry anymore (angry)

I'm not angry (angry)

 

BW image shot in the Seventies, toned and watercolorized in the Eighties.

To go along with the issue, here is the track for issue 6. If you care to, listen to it before, during or after the issue, I feel it elevates the experience :)

 

Track Link: Plunge into the Darkness

  

-^- Ysmault -^-

 

A blast of green energy struck hard against the liquid skeleton. Guy aimed his wrist, launching an attack at the next of the creatures, destroying the black mass.

 

He and Aya had arrived at Ysmault mere minutes ago, already bombarded by attacks of the darkness. It seemed like the Red Lanterns weren't going down without a fight, a full on war occuring in the main village near the Central Power Battery.

 

"These creatures seem to be constructs," Aya said, ducking under an attack of one of the skeletons. "However, they are infused with some type of dark energy."

 

Guy shot a blast, taking out the one that missed Aya. "It must be that curse that Alan did," he deduced, forming a baseball bat to smack the next. "It must mean there's a reanimated corpse running around."

 

"It seems that would be the most probable answer," Aya responded as her hands shifted to cannons. Green energy blasted from them, destroying multiple skeletons.

 

"Don't waste your battery," Guy said, forming a shield behind Aya, blocking the skeleton from behind her. "Until we fix the central battery, you need to conserve yours."

 

"Understood."

 

Guy raised into the air, aiming his ring at the giant skeleton moving towards them. "Rattle this, you son of a bitch," he mumbled, launching a flaming pumpkin construct at the skeleton, destroying it in one hit.

 

As Guy landed, he formed a bubble around Aya and himself, the AI pausing her continuous dodging to stand completely still. "The tracking process is complete," she stated. "I have located four sources of large spectrum energy."

 

Guy expanded the shield, spikes forming around it's exterior. "And?"

 

"There are two intense presences of death near the largest, the Central Power Battery," she explained, pointing to a nearby mountain. "However another large entity of rage is present in that mountain."

 

Guy looked at rock formation, eyes narrowing. "Alright then, let's go pay that big red bastard a visit."

 

"You've all been chosen as recruits of the Gre-"

 

"Yeah yeah, the ring already said all that," Guy mumbled, his legs kicked up in a construct of a lounge chair. "I get it, I'm a space cop now."

 

"How disrespectful!" Arisia gasped, placing a hand over her mouth in shock.

 

"I-I-I don't associate with h-him!" G'nort stuttered, pointing at Guy.

 

Hal facepalmed, standing across the room next to the hulking pink creature, Kilowog. The man in question's eyes slanted, teeth clenching.

 

"You wanna say that again, poozer?" he asked, a calm, but forceful tone in his words.

 

"I said that I-"

 

Guy was suddenly cut off, his body slamming into the floor. Above him stood Kilowog, his hand around Guy's torso.

 

"Listen here, you son of a bitch," Kilowog spoke looking directly into Guy's eyes. "You and your ugly ass haircut are gonna learn a thing or two about respect."

 

"Get your damn hands off of me, now," Guy demanded, ring flaring up, "or else."

 

"Do something, tough guy," Kilowog replied, spitting on Guy's face.

 

As Guy's bat construct formed, Kilowog created one of his own, instantly shattering Guy's and sending him across the room. His back hit the wall hard, leaving him winded.

 

"You got a lot to learn, haircut," Kilowog said, looking down at the man. "Good thing I've never failed at making a lantern outta a failure like you."

 

Guy's teeth grinded against each other, veins bulging as he clenched his fists. "I am not a failure," he said, his head tilting up to Kilowog. "I will never be a failure!"

 

Guy and Aya fought their way up the mountain, the onslaught of skeletal creatures never ceasing.

 

"It seems we have arrived at the entrance," Aya spoke, dodging a swing from one of the skeletons.

 

"Alright, let's go!" Guy said, blasting the skeleton and running forward into the cave, Aya following after him.

 

The moment Guy entered, he was hit by a blast of red energy, pushing a pinning Jim to the wall. Guy looked up to see Razer, his face covered in confusion.

 

"Gardner?" he asked, letting the construct fall. "What the hell are you doing here?"

 

"Ha, that was a good attack Razer," Guy said, coughing a bit from the pin. "I still beat you last time though."

 

"This is not the time, Gardner…" Razer angrily replied, which made Guy chuckle. "Now answer me!"

 

"We have been tasked to contact The Butcher," Aya said, making her presence known. "Would you please take us to Atrocitus?"

 

Razer tilted his head to the side, staring at Aya. "What is that?" he asked, turning to Guy.

 

"I am Aya."

 

"Don't worry about her," Guy said, waving off Razer. "Now, Atrocitus."

 

Razer nodded hesitantly, turning to lead them through the cave. "If the circumstances weren't as dire as they are now, I'd have killed you both back there," Razer said, his ring keeping a constant spark active.

 

"Right…" Guy said, rolling his eyes. "Still bear you last time, buddy."

 

"You sucker punched me, you imbecile."

 

"Still won though."

 

"Gardener I will-"

 

"Please," Aya said, placing her hand on Razer's forearm. "There is no need to be angry. Calm yourself."

 

Razer paused for a moment before yanking his arm back. "Atrocitus is in here."

 

Guy raised an eyebrow at the interaction, but ignored it as the large door came into vision. "I thought this was a cave," Guy said, taking in the pattern on the door.

 

"It's a last resort escape bunker."

 

Guy jumped at the female voice coming from behind him, turning to see Bleez. "God, don't sneak up on people during the apocalypse you damn succubus!" he shouted, watching as the blue-skinned woman floated to stand next to Razer.

 

"You act as if we're strangers, Gardner," Bleez chuckled, resting her arm on Razer's shoulder. "Did you really forget that night we shared on G-"

 

"Not the time, Bleez," Razer said, stopping the woman in her tracks. "They are here to speak to Atrocitus."

 

"And you trust them?"

 

"There isn't much choice…"

 

"Hey, still here," Guy interrupted, pointing to the door. "Can we get in there, we really don't have all day."

 

"If something happens to Atrocitus…" Bleez mumbled.

 

"Nothing will happen," Razer confirmed, creating a large, key-shaped construct.

 

The large door clicked open, Guy's eyes widening at the sight inside.

 

Laid out on a slab of stone was Atrocitus, a large gash in his abdomen. Tending to him was Skallox, who seemed concentrated on his scalpel construct.

 

"Atrocitus," Razer called, walking into the room. "You have a visitor."

 

"They can wait," Skallox called back, not turning his head. "Atrocitus is in the middle of a surgery."

 

"That's great, but he can put a bandaid on for now," Guy said, walking into the room. Aya followed close behind him.

 

"Gardner…" the red giant snarled, pulling himself to sit up.

 

"General, you'll pull the stitches I have done," Skallox sighed, wheeling his chair construct backwards.

 

Atrocitus ignored the man, bringing himself to a stand and walking to Guy. "Why shouldn't I kill you now?" he asked before stumbling, catching himself on a large stalagmite.

 

"I don't think you could if you wanted to…" Guy said with a slight wince as he viewed the wound up close. "What the hell happened to you?"

 

"The damn undead!" he shouted, crushing the rock that was supporting him. Dex-Starr quickly zipped from the corner of the room, bracing the giant. "One dressed in all black with a red eye… he blasted me with an eye beam… but what are you here for?"

 

"The Butcher," Aya spoke, gaining Atrocitus' attention. "The Green Lanterns of sector 2814 are currently on a mission to collect all emotional entities to battle Nekron. Both Ion and Adara have already been collected."

 

"And you wish for me to contact him…"

 

"Bingo."

 

"That's impossible then," Bleez said, shaking her head. "Atrocitus would not be able to traverse the battlefield in condition, let alone handle the raw power the central battery would emit."

 

"Huh?"

 

"Each emotional entity acts differently," Aya informed, pulling up pictures of all the entities. "While some only require a strong connection to the emotion like Will, Love, Avarice, and Hope… the others require you to bathe in Fear, Anger, and Compassion."

 

"Why!?"

 

"For that, you would need to ask the entities themselves, Guy," Aya remarked, earning a small chuckle from Bleez.

 

"I'll enter the battle…" Atrocitus said, clenching his fist.

 

"You are in no condition-"

 

"Yasiim. Uluva. Pendia…" Atrocitus spoke, his head lowering. "All this time… I believed that the Blackest Night would punish the sinners of this world… that the prophecy would need to come true… now, those who I call comrades fall to the very prophecy I could have stopped…

 

"You were right, Abin Sur," he declared, his ring burning bright red. His fist slammed into his wound, cauterizing it. "I will aid the warriors of the light… the Blackest Night will not fall… not as long as the hatred I have for myself burns."

 

Guy smirked, nodding to Atrocitus. "That's a turn of events I like to see. Now let's go kick some zombie ass."

 

-^-

 

The zombified King Atlan stood atop the central battery, his hands both raised.

 

"Nekron's Curse: The Dead King's Call"

 

Tens of black skeletons rose from the ground, charging the defensive line of Red Lanterns, led by Zilius Zox.

 

"The next wave is here!" the round man called, pointing toward the charging forces. "We need to protect the general until his surgery is complete!"

 

"Will you be able to?"

 

Zilius turned, eyes widening at the black figure charging him. He quickly formed a shield, blocking the barrage of eye blasts.

 

The Manta, Jesse Hyde.

 

Zilius snarled, a large cannon forming in front of him. "Stay back, you undead bastard!"

 

"Nekron's Curse: Darkest Depths"

 

The world around the Red Lantern defense line fell into darkness. Zilius attempted lighting the area, but his ring's power was only consumed into the void.

 

"Like minos in the sea…" the zombie called, a knife flying from the darkness into Zilius' hand.

 

"Agh!"

 

"Scream for me!" the zombie announced leaping out from the darkness.

 

As he brought his blade down, he was blasted away by a bright green light. The darkness around Zilius dissipated, multiple of the defensive line now dead on the ground. His eyes shot back to the source of the blast.

 

"Gardner!?"

 

-^-

 

Guy landed next to Zilius, patting him on the head. "Don't worry, Z, got you covered," he said, dodging a swipe from the man.

 

A roar caught both their attention, Guy turning his head to see Atrocitus leap towards the zombified Manta. The red man landed on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

 

Manta attempted another eye blast, but Atrocitus countered by vomiting blood. The heat of the crimson liquid scorched Manta's helmet, melting it and his head in one go. Reaching for his hand, he ripped the zombies' finger off, the ring melting into dust.

 

"Well, that's one way to stop a zombie," Guy winced, gently rubbing his own ring finger. "Now, where's skeleton man?"

 

"Up there!" Razer called, launching a barrage of laser blasts at the zombie sitting atop the battery. Multiple skeletons appeared in front of him, acting as shields to the blasts.

 

"Well, that does not look good," Guy said, looking over at Atrocitus, who was already charging forward on a bull construct. "Wait up big guy!"

 

Guy created a horse, riding forward to join Atrocitus. The man held his fist forward, blasting the skeletons as they charged. Atrocitus formed a large ball and chain, dragging it along the ground and flailing it into any that crossed his path.

 

"What's the plan?" he asked, turning towards Atrocitus. "Because the skeletons get bigger, and denser the closer we get."

 

"We fight!" Atrocitus announced, speeding ahead.

 

"Great plan, except that isn't one!" Guy shouted back, speeding up after him. A large skeleton dropped directly into Guy's path, forcing him to a stop.

 

Before he could act, a swarm of red bats appeared in front of the monster, immediately ripping it to shreds. Guy turned his head, spotting Bleez as she flew past him, the bar constructs following.

 

"C'mon, Gardner," she shouted, "get to the battery!"

 

Guy nodded, creating a sports car in place of the horse. He sped down the streets of the city, ramming into any skeletons in his path. Swerving to a stop, his eyes widened.

 

Around the battery grew large, skyscraper sized skeletons. Zilius, crashed into one with spiked armor around him, but the skeleton stood firm.

 

Guy launched from the car, forming a drill around his body. He made contact with the skeleton, but his construct did nothing to the skeleton's bones. The monster took notice of him, swatting him and sending him crashing to the ground.

 

As Guy stood, he felt intense heat to his left. Turning his head, he realized he was launched to the power battery. "Atrocitus!"

 

He watched as Atrocitus was charged at the monster, launching cannonball sized blasts. As he attempted to take flight, he only made it a few feet before falling. Looking down to his finger, he cursed under his breath.

 

He was out of juice.

 

"Gardner, I've seen it in you!" Atrocitus called, slamming a battering ram into the skeleton. "You have the rage inside of you… go, you can survive the battery! Speak to the Butcher… bring him to me."

 

"But I can't just-"

 

"You aren't doing anything with a dead ring, Gardner!" Razer shouted, slicing a scythe across the skeleton's wrist. "Go!"

 

Guy looked to the battery, then back to Atrocitus. "You all better not die until I get back!"

 

Running forward, Guy dove into the red center of the battery.

 

"Are you… done now?" Atrocitus asked, spitting blood onto the ground.

 

Across from him sat Guy, proper against a wall. His arm was broken and a large laceration ran along his chest.

 

"You think I'm done?" he shouted back, blood leaking from his lips. His ring cast a compression sleeve around his arm, snapping it back into place. Bringing his arm to his chest, he burned the cut, sealing it off. "You ready, you big red fuck!?"

 

"You can't win this, Gardner, leave!" Atrocitus shouted, his ring flaring up.

 

"That's your mistake," Guy said, his ring sparling to life. "Doesn't matter if I can or can't win… I won't give up… so don't you dare say I will!"

 

As he fell through the battery, his skin began to burn, the red energy like boiling water. It's consistency felt akin to blood as he swam deeper, the energy becoming thicker the deeper he got.

 

Failure

 

No Future

 

Nothing

 

Guy ignored the voice in his head, finally breaking free from the red energy, falling flat on his face. Pulling himself to a stand, the world around him was a blood red; rocks were coated in the liquid, as was the ground. The sky was pitch black, and his way back was gone.

 

"Well, then… hey Butcher!" Guy called, beginning to walk forward. "You here?"

 

You're a failure

 

Guy smacked the side of his head, shaking it a few times. "Wherever the hell you are, you're a real dick for the flashbacks," he shouted, hearing the words once more.

 

You'll never be ANYTHING

 

A loser

 

Your mother left because of YOU!

 

Guy dropped to his knees, the voice of his father echoing in his head. His hands clutched at his head, teeth gritting hard.

 

"God, you're really committed to this!" Guy shouted, panting. "Look, I know you're probably not in the mood, but we need you right now!"

 

"Why would I help you?"

 

Guy looked up, jumping back at the sight of the large red bull. It's eyes fanned like flames, as did it's horns.

 

"You're… the Butcher, I assume?" Guy asked, not receiving a response. "Alright, look… we're collecting your… brothers and sisters? Are you all related?"

 

The bull snarled, Guy raising his hands in defense. "Alright, alright… the emotional entities are needed," he explained pointing behind him. "We need your help to stop the Blackest Night."

 

"You did not answer me."

 

Guy sighed, griffin his teeth slightly. "Look, everyone, including you, are gonna die. Both Adara and Ion were nearly killed, but we were able to recover them," Guy explained, eyes narrowing at the bull. "You're just gonna die? Let rage die? Now c'mon you dumb bull."

 

Guy watched the bull's eyes shift, a small, red portal opening to the right of them.

 

"Thank you," Guy said, walking towards the portal.

 

"I can not leave, not without a host."

 

Guy stopped, turning back to the bull. "Atrocitus is right out there, I can get him for you," he said, pointing to the portal.

 

"The central battery has been overtaken already," the Butcher explained, nodding its head towards the black ceiling getting lower. "The entrance has been closed off."

 

Still a failure

 

"I said stay out of my head!" Guy shouted, aiming his ring at the Butcher. "I don't know what you're trying to do, you sack of shit, but quit it!"

 

Guy's eyes shifted downward, noticing the red aura he was beginning to emit. "I… I have to be your host…"

 

"The hate you have in your heart; it is strong. This place shall bring it out."

 

Guy's eyes closed, images of his father flashing through his head.

 

The belt. The hatred. The blood. The stench of alcohol. The hatred. The yelling.

 

The Hatred

 

"I… hate him…." Guy mumbled, the boiling liquid from before beginning to drip into his skin. "I hate him so much… everything he did… I wish I could've ended him… I wanted to crush him so badly!"

 

"Yes. Revel in the rage!"

 

'Guy Gardner, you have exhibited a Rage strong enough to be detected by the Butcher.

 

Guy let out a blood curdling scream as his body burned, boiling blood leaking from his skin.

 

"With blood and rage of crimson red," Guy spoke, his uniform changing to that of a Red Lantern, "ripped from a corpse so freshly dead."

 

Stepping out of the dripping blood, Guy's ring glowed a bright red, his eyes shining the same color. "Together with our hellish hate…"

 

-^-

 

Razer blasted a missile at the large skeleton, shattering it to pieces. "It's too much!" he shouted, shielding himself from another's attack. "We need to fall back!"

 

"To where!?" Skellox asked, piercing multiple skeletons with a large rapier. "There's nowhere to go!"

 

"Stop fighting!" Bleez shouted, her swarm of bats acting as a weapon and a shield.

 

Razer dodged another attack, spotting Aya being swarmed, but not attacking back. He quickly dove in, taking a strike to his back. Bursting red, the skeletons all were destroyed.

 

"Why are you out here if you can't fight!?" Razer asked, forming a shield around the two.

 

"I must wait for Mr. Gardner," she responded. "Thank you for reaching me, Razer."

 

"Its-"

 

Razer was cut by a bright light coming from the central battery. The blackness covering it began to melt away, replaced by crimson red. Cracks began to form on the rock formation, red light seeping out.

 

"We'll burn you all," called Guy's voice, echoing through the city. Suddenly, the power battery exploded, a construct of a large bull bursting from inside.

 

"THAT IS YOUR FATE!"

 

Razer's eyes widened as the entirety of the skeleton army was disintegrated by red fire. The zombie that controlled the skeletons fell to the ground, burning of red flames.

 

"Burn!" Guy shouted, the fire stoking, incinerating the corpse.

 

"That's…"

 

"The Butcher," Aya said, finishing Razer's sentence. "Let's go."

 

Razer nodded, following Aya to the center of the battlefield. Atrocitus stood beside Bleez And Zilius, both Dex-Starr and Skallox keeping him up right. "Gardner, you... you are the host," Atrocitus noted as the ginger man floated down to the group.

 

"Like the new digs?" he asked, earning no response. "I'm heading to Sector 666, it's where Black Hand is," Guy informed, already lifting himself into the air. "Stay here, none of you will be able to help. Let's go Aya."

 

Aya nodded, giving a small wave to Razer as she flew into the air. Guy began to follow, but Atrocitus called out to him, stopping him. "Gardner… good luck."

  

August fidgets uncomfortably, rocking back back and forth in the cheap chair in the main office. His arms hang limp between his legs, the paper towel-wrapped ice pack cold in his hand. He was meant to hold the ice to his fresh black eye, but he simply didn't care. It's not like it hurt much anyways.

 

"August," the voice of the office lady calls, his eyes shifting from the floor to the woman. "Your father's here, hun."

 

He sighs, taking another moment before bringing himself to stand. He grabs the strap of his backpack from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder as he turns to the door. As it opens, the office lady calls for him once more.

  

With a sigh, August stood, picking his backpack up from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder. As he passed the secretary's desk, she called for him once more.

 

"Honey, you should keep that ice on your eye," she suggests with a kind smile. "It'll help reduce the swelling."

 

"I'll be fine," he mumbles, mustering up a smile. He drops the ice pack down on the front desk before slipping out the door, ignoring the woman's pleas. He keeps his head down as he walks through the halls. The events from earlier today replay in his mind; they make him angry.

 

That kid, Barry… he just lost his mom… his brother. His dad was sent to prison… his family was taken away from him… and people decided to make fun of him? He doesn't understand it, how could people hear something so terrible and decide to laugh at him. He also doesn't get why no one stopped it, why none of the adults would help. They had to have seen it, but they just stood there watching.

 

He had to do something.

 

August presses his hand against the front door of the school, snapping out of his own head, dreading what was awaiting him. His dad would surely be mad, his son getting into a fight is the last thing he'd want to deal with.

 

As the doors open, however, August's eyes light up. Leaning against his car, arms crossed with a smirk on his face, is Jorge. His older brother gives a small wave, causing August to burst into a sprint.

 

"Slow down," Jorge chuckles, intercepting August with a hug. "You're gonna slip and get another black eye."

 

August can't help but laugh, looking up at his brother with an affectionate smile. "You'd catch me."

 

"You're probably right," Jorge shrugs, before opening the passenger door. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

 

August jumps at the offer.

 

-^-

 

August eyes crack open, a blinding white light shining upon him. He doesn't know what's going on… or where he is. The last thing he remembers… is a dream of time before sadness and pain. Time before loss. In his confused, uncomfortable state, he sits up, bringing up a hand to shield his eyes. The confusion only grows as he views the room.

 

Lightning. Strands of white and black that intertwine throughout the room, frozen in place. It's not the only anomaly, however. His hand raises, watching amazed as after images follow the motion. Still unable to comprehend what's going on, August brings his hand to his mouth, peeling the oxygen mask off. When letting go, it doesn't fall to the floor, it doesn't drop to the bed… it stays afloat, as if it were weightless.

 

His legs slip over the side of the bed, eyes transfixed on the oxygen mask. With a tap, he watches amazed as it slowly begins to float away from him. The moment his feet touch the floor, in an attempt to chase after the mask, he finally understands. He doesn't know the cause of the feeling, or what the feeling truly is, but he knows.

 

It's when everything finally comes to him. The events that transpired at the power plant. His fight with Heatmonger… Wally's abilities… Joe…

 

"The time has come," Eradicator says, before leaning in close to August. "He awaits you," he whispers, throwing August to the ground and exiting through the hole in the fence. "I'll be seeing you again soon."

 

The murderer's words echo in his mind. It was the last thing that happened before… the lightning. He brings his hand up, staring at the way his nerves are visible through his skin, a glowing yellow pulsing along the strands.

 

August…

 

August winces, hearing the booming voice of… someone in the far reaches of his mind. It feels strange; after the initial shock, a calming feeling washes over him as the voice echoes out once again. Though he doesn't know the origin of the voice, he can't help but follow the ripples it leaves behind, like stones on a lake. With each step, he feels uneasy, like his legs could snap at a moment's notice, but they don't. With each step, he watches as the rest of the world stays frozen in time, the only movement other than him being the after image, now of his entire body.

 

The voice calls out once more, and it's now that August can see the pulsing of monochromatic lightning; each word, each echo. Exiting the room, his eyes go wide. The hallway, what would be a hallway, is completely transformed. A maelstrom of debris, clouds, and that black and white lightning. He hadn't noticed before, his mind too caught up on the strange situation, that the streaks of lightning aren't the only things monochrome… the world is. What's left of the building, the sky, even the oxygen mask… everything except for the golden lines painting his gray skin.

 

August… child…

 

The voice echos out once more, its words skipping, glitching, like a scratched CD. He watches the lightning pulse, the echoes folding in towards the heart of the hurricane. It's then when he sees it, a silhouette inside the wind. A tall figure, large spiked shoulders that bridge out like lightning. His eyes glow white, pure white, the kind that would blind a man at a glance. More lightning imagery can be seen on his face, bolts similar to Barry's extending from his head.

 

"Who… are you?"

 

A burst of wind, energy that he can't determine the origin of, hits him head on. The force is intense, enough to nearly knock him off his feet. The world around him isn't able to brace itself for the gale blast; what's left of the floor and walls being carried away into the endless void. Blood begins to run down his arms, the wind like thousands of razors on his skin. He, however, holds strong. The attack lasts for seconds more, before silence… dead silence.

 

August pants heavily, looking down at his ruined arms, only to find them good as new. He was healed in a matter of seconds. A ringing noise draws his attention back to the whirlwind, but the sight of the mysterious figure, mere inches from him, causes him to stumble backwards. He only barely catches himself before falling off the few tiles of flooring left after the wind, his harsh breathing continuing as he looks up at the towering shadow.

 

"What… what are you!?" he shouts, unable to hide the shaking terror in his voice. "Where am I!?"

 

August… Speed Force…

 

Speed Force? What's a Speed Force… whatever it is, it still doesn't explain what's going on, how he got there, or what this monster before him is. He glances down at his shaking hands, watching the golden pulses along his nerves. Looking back up at the figure, he swallows his fear and raises his arm.

 

"This… this yellow glow?" he prys, clenching his fist, causing it to pulse. "What is it… what did you do to me?"

 

"Gift…" the voice answers, no longer an echo in August's mind, but spoken words from the shadow. "Me… you…"

 

"I… I still don't understand," August mumbles, wincing at a piercing pain in his skull. "What… what are you… why do what you did?"

 

"God… Speed…" he says, the shadow beginning to fade. "You are… future… God… Speed…"

 

-^-

 

August shoots up like a rocket, arms flailing, knocking down hospital equipment. He hears screams, but is unable to process anything but the intense pain throughout his body. Falling out of the bed, he writhes in an ungodly ache, flashes of the night replaying in his head. The lightning… he was only now feeling that pain, but… he shouldn't be? Soreness, sure, but the initial strike didn't feel like this, he'd black out almost immediately.

 

Something else was happening to his body, like it was keeping him awake… like it was healing him. With clenched teeth, he raises his arm to eye level, watching as the deep purple bruises and red burns along his flesh slowly revert back to an uninjured state. Through test filled eyes, he sees those glowing yellow markings on his skin, though they aren't receding.

 

He can't stay like this, even in pain. His hand finds a place on the tile, slowly beginning to push himself to a knee. That plan changes the moment his foot touches the floor, as his body accelerates forward, through the clinic's walls. The force, enough to knock any man unconscious, if not kill him, reverberates through August's skull. He's still awake, still feeling every ounce of pain as his body flails through the sky. He comes to a crashing halt upon hitting a brick wall, before tumbling down to the alley below.

 

Breathing… it's something he can barely do. His body is ruined, yet it's fixing itself, piece by piece, bone by bone. He raises his hand to his eyes, watching the bones snap back into place.

 

"What… what's happening to me?" he mumbles, before a familiar image pops into his mind. Barry, broken and bruised after their defeat of the Trickster. "Barry… healed… his wounds…" His eyes go wide, the bruising from the lightning strike finally gone from his skin. Pulling himself to a stand, he extends an arm out.

 

Golden lightning sparks from his hand.

 

"I'm like you…"

 

-^-

 

"So, wanna tell me what happened?"

 

August frowns, embarrassed.

 

"C'mon, don't be shy, I'm sure you've got a good reason for this," Jorge says, poking the purple bruises around August's eye. "If you don't tell me, then that means I can't break the news to dad."

 

Sighing, August places his big belly burger down beside him on the hood of the car, his elbows placing themselves against his knees, letting his cheeks rest on his palms. "It's not like I started it," he mumbles, eyes gazing up at Jorge. "They were picking on him again, the boy who lost his mom and brother!"

 

"Allen…" Jorge frowns, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Damn kids, so heartless and for what?"

 

"That's what I mean!" August agrees, turning his full attention to Jorge. "They keep making fun of him, saying how his dad is such a bad man… but it's not his fault!"

 

"I know it's not," Jorge nods, taking a sip of his drink. "I'm proud of you for sticking up for him. Family… It's important. I can't imagine what that boy is going through right now, but I'm sure seeing you stick up for him helped him, even if it was just a little."

 

"Well if I'm gonna be an awesome police man that helps protect the city like you, I can't just watch people get hurt," August says, squeaking as Jorge playfully messes with his hair. "Hey!?"

 

"Not a cop yet, August," Jorge corrects, taking a bite of his burger. "Big Uncle Joe's trying his best though, maybe one day."

 

"You'll make the best one," August says, smiling, "I know it."

 

-^-

 

"He wakes up, screeches in pain, and just disappears? Through a hole in the wall?" Ira West mumbles, rubbing his brow. "Singh, please god, tell me Allen has found something?"

 

"Barry… he's not in today, he took an impromptu vacation a couple days ago," David Singh, the Crime Lab Director for the CCPD, notes, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. "Everything with your brother is probably setting in for him."

 

"Yeah… probably," Ira agrees, looking at the photo of Joe and him on his desk. "Well, has anyone else gotten anything?"

 

"Nothing, the security cameras were fried, and there's practically no evidence he was-"

 

"Commissioner!" Patty Spivot interrupts, barging into the office.

 

"What is it, you get a lead?"

 

"No… not a lead," she says solemnly, before presenting a pistol and golden shield onto Ira's desk, the man gasping at the name. "A dead end."

 

-^-

 

Damion coughs, dust filling his lungs. There's a ringing in his ears, and his nostrils are suffering the same fate as his mouth. If it weren't for his mask's lenses, he'd be devoid of any sense but touch, and even his fingers were covered in dust. Everything happened so fast… everything in a flash.

 

Goldrush, his livelihood, his home, is gone. An empty box, filled with rubble, dust, and broken dreams. The Flash… he decided to finally take a shot at him, at the Network… he assumed it would happen eventually, but never like this. As soon as the ringing stops, the situation becomes all the more real. Screams… employees and patrons alike, music still playing through broke speakers, and that crackling lightning.

 

"Razer!" he coughs out, hoping his bodyguard wasn't buried under the debris. "Dammit, can you hear me!"

 

A small smile forms on his face upon seeing the larger man's silhouette in the dust cloud. Taking a step towards it, he nearly trips, his abdomen badly wounded. Gritting his teeth, he presses on, looking back up only for his smile to falter. Golden lightning shines through the dust, running right past Razer's silhouette. The man's large frame flops out of the dust, unconscious with a bruised and bloody face.

 

"What the hell…" Damion mumbles, taking a step backwards.

 

"I told you…" a voice calls out from the dust. Stepping out, with an aura of lightning around him, is Detective August Heart. "I told you I'd be back to shut this place down."

 

"Detective… how are you…" Damion stutters, stumbling to the ground with eyes and crawling backwards to create any distance he can. "You're a meta!? A speedster!?"

 

August makes quirk work of the distance Damion tried to make, grabbing the cowering man by the collar and lifting him into the air. "You said you couldn't wait to see me try, didn't you?" August asks, bringing Damion down to his level, eyes glowing a bright yellow. "How's my attempt?"

 

"Y-y-you shut me down!" Damion screeches, hands clawing at August's. "I… I'm done for, no more Goldrush… look at the place! What more could you need!?"

 

Damion is thrown to the ground, again creating space between August and himself. "You're a part of The Network… you work under Amunet?" August asks, earning a swift nod of confirmation from Damion. "Get me in touch… I need a suit."

 

----------------------------

 

NEXT TIME: Origin; Every Hero Starts Somewhere!

What do you see? a impossible me? I cant be balanced, i cant be insane, i have drugs that push sanity down my throat. Now i am a label, and now i am full of disease, and now its no one else's fault you see, its all me. While you think i am balancing my shadow laughs the truth, I am one slip away from a necklace noose. But tel me again i am ill, and i am wrong, as it has become your, and my demons, favourite song. Dont you dare to stutter, you sing loud, its not as if my mental health has my confidence splayed all over the ground and me choking on my knees...... but i will not plead, not for no mortal being, I will just balance and my salvation will be a slip.

French postcard in the Collection Cinéma by Editions La Malibran, Paris, no. CA 53, 1989. Photo: Boris Karloff and Elsa Lanchester in Bride of Frankenstein (James Whale, 1935).

 

British actor Boris Karloff (1887-1969) is one of the true icons of the Horror cinema. He portrayed Frankenstein's monster in Frankenstein (1931), Bride of Frankenstein (1935), and Son of Frankenstein (1939), which resulted in his immense popularity. In the following decades he worked in countless Horror films, but also in other genres, both in Europe and Hollywood.

 

Boris Karloff was born as William Henry Pratt in 1887 in London, England. Pratt himself stated that he was born in Dulwich, which is nearby in London. His parents were Edward John Pratt, Jr. and his third wife Eliza Sarah Millard. ‘Billy’never knew his father. Edward Pratt had worked for the Indian Salt Revenue Service, and had virtually abandoned his family in far off England. Edward died when his son was still an infant and so Billy was raised by his mother. He was the youngest of nine children, and following his mother's death was brought up by his elder brothers and sisters. As a child, Billy performed each Christmas in plays staged by St. Mary Magdalene's Church. His first role was that of The Demon King in the pantomime Cinderella. Billy was bow-legged, had a lisp, and stuttered. He conquered his stutter, but not his lisp, which was noticeable throughout his career in the film industry. After his education at private schools, he attended King's College London where he took studies aimed at a career with the British Government's Consular Service. However, in 1909, the 22-years-old left university without graduating and sailed from Liverpool to Canada, where he worked as a farm labourer and did various odd itinerant jobs. In Canada, he began appearing in theatrical performances, and chose the stage name Boris Karloff. Later, he claimed he chose ‘Boris’ because it sounded foreign and exotic, and that ‘Karloff’ was a family name. However, his daughter Sara Karloff publicly denied any knowledge of Slavic forebears, Karloff or otherwise. One reason for the name change was to prevent embarrassment to his family. He did not reunite with his family until he returned to Britain to make The Ghoul (T. Hayes Hunter, 1933), opposite Cedric Hardwicke. Karloff was extremely worried that his family would disapprove of his new, macabre claim to world fame. Instead, his brothers jostled for position around him and happily posed for publicity photographs. In 1911, Karloff joined the Jeanne Russell Company and later joined the Harry St. Clair Co. that performed in Minot, North Dakota, for a year in an opera house above a hardware store. Whilst he was trying to establish his acting career, Karloff had to perform years of difficult manual labour in Canada and the U.S. in order to make ends meet. He was left with back problems from which he suffered for the rest of his life. In 1917, he arrived in Hollywood, where he went on to make dozens of silent films. Some of his first roles were in film serials, such as The Masked Rider (Aubrey M. Kennedy, 1919), in Chapter 2 of which he can be glimpsed onscreen for the first time, and The Hope Diamond Mystery (Stuart Paton, 1920). In these early roles, he was often cast as an exotic Arabian or Indian villain. Other silent films were The Deadlier Sex (Robert Thornby, 1920) with Blanche Sweet, Omar the Tentmaker (James Young, 1922), Dynamite Dan (Bruce Mitchell, 1924) and Tarzan and the Golden Lion (J.P. McGowan, 1927) in which James Pierce played Tarzan. In 1926 Karloff found a provocative role in The Bells (James Young, 1926), in which he played a sinister hypnotist opposite Lionel Barrymore. He worked with Barrymore again in his first sound film, the thriller The Unholy Night (Lionel Barrymore, 1929).

 

A key film which brought Boris Karloff recognition was The Criminal Code (Howard Hawks, 1931), a prison drama in which he reprised a dramatic part he had played on stage. With his characteristic short-cropped hair and menacing features, Karloff was a frightening sight to behold. Opposite Edward G. Robinson, Karloff played a key supporting part as an unethical newspaper reporter in Five Star Final (Mervyn LeRoy, 1931), a film about tabloid journalism which was nominated for the Oscar for Best Picture. Karloff's role as Frankenstein's monster in Frankenstein (James Whale, 1931), based on the classic Mary Shelley book, propelled him to stardom. Wikipedia: “The bulky costume with four-inch platform boots made it an arduous role but the costume and extensive makeup produced the classic image. The costume was a job in itself for Karloff with the shoes weighing 11 pounds (5 kg) each.” The aura of mystery surrounding Karloff was highlighted in the opening credits, as he was listed as simply "?." The film was a commercial and critical success for Universal, and Karloff was instantly established as a hot property in Hollywood. Universal Studios was quick to acquire ownership of the copyright to the makeup format for the Frankenstein monster that Jack P. Pierce had designed. A year later, Karloff played another iconic character, Imhotep in The Mummy (Karl Freund, 1932). The Old Dark House (James Whale, 1932) with Charles Laughton, and the starring role in MGM’s The Mask of Fu Manchu (Charles Brabin, 1932) quickly followed. Steve Vertlieb at The Thunder Child: “Wonderfully kinky, the film co-starred young Myrna Loy as the intoxicating, yet sadistic Fah Lo See, Fu Manchu's sexually perverse daughter. Filmed prior to Hollywood's infamous production code, the film joyously escaped the later scrutiny of The Hayes Office, and remains a fascinating example of pre-code extravagance.” These films all confirmed Karloff's new-found stardom. Horror had become his primary genre, and he gave a string of lauded performances in 1930s Universal Horror films. Karloff reprised the role of Frankenstein's monster in two other films, the sensational Bride of Frankenstein (James Whale, 1935) and the less thrilling Son of Frankenstein (Rowland V. Lee, 1939), the latter also featuring Bela Lugosi. Steve Vertlieb about Bride oif Frankenstein: “Whale delivered perhaps the greatest horror film of the decade and easily the most critically acclaimed rendition of Mary Shelley's novel ever released. The Bride of Frankenstein remains a work of sheer genius, a brilliantly conceived and realized take on loneliness, vanity, and madness. The cast of British character actors is simply superb.” While the long, creative partnership between Karloff and Lugosi never led to a close friendship, it produced some of the actors' most revered and enduring productions, beginning with The Black Cat (Edgar G. Ullmer, 1934). Follow-ups included The Raven (Lew Landers, 1935), the rarely seen, imaginative science fiction melodrama The Invisible Ray (Lambert Hillyer, 1936), and The Body Snatcher (Robert Wise, 1945). Karloff played a wide variety of roles in other genres besides Horror. He was memorably gunned down in a bowling alley in Howard Hawks' classic Scarface (1932) starring Paul Muni.. He played a religious First World War soldier in John Ford’s epic The Lost Patrol (1934) opposite Victor McLaglen. Between 1938 and 1940, Karloff starred in five films for Monogram Pictures, including Mr. Wong, Detective (William Nigh, 1938). During this period, he also starred with Basil Rathbone in Tower of London (Rowland V. Lee, 1939) as the murderous henchman of King Richard III, and with Margaret Lindsay in British Intelligence (Terry O. Morse, 1940). In 1944, he underwent a spinal operation to relieve his chronic arthritic condition.

 

Boris Karloff revisited the Frankenstein mythos in several later films, taking the starring role of the villainous Dr. Niemann in House of Frankenstein (Erle C. Kenton, 1944), in which the monster was played by Glenn Strange. He reprised the role of the ‘mad scientist’ in Frankenstein 1970 (Howard W. Koch, 1958) as Baron Victor von Frankenstein II, the grandson of the original creator. The finale reveals that the crippled Baron has given his own face (i.e., Karloff's) to the monster. From 1945 to 1946, Boris Karloff appeared in three films for RKO produced by Val Lewton: Isle of the Dead (Mark Robson, 1945), The Body Snatcher (Robert Wise, 1945), and Bedlam (Mark Robson, 1946). Karloff had left Universal because he thought the Frankenstein franchise had run its course. Karloff was a frequent guest on radio programs. In 1949, he was the host and star of the radio and television anthology series Starring Boris Karloff. In 1950, he had his own weekly children's radio show in New York. He played children's music and told stories and riddles, and attracted many adult listeners as well. An enthusiastic performer, he returned to the Broadway stage in the original production of Arsenic and Old Lace (1941), in which he played a homicidal gangster enraged to be frequently mistaken for Karloff. In 1962, he reprised the role on television with Tony Randall and Tom Bosley. He also appeared as Captain Hook in the play Peter Pan with Jean Arthur. In 1955, he returned to the Broadway stage to portray the sympathetic Bishop Cauchon in Jean Anouilh's The Lark. Karloff regarded the production as the highlight of his long career. Julie Harris was his co-star as Joan of Arc in the celebrated play, recreated for live television in 1957 with Karloff, Harris and much of the original New York company intact. For his role, Karloff was nominated for a Tony Award. Karloff donned the monster make-up for the last time for a Halloween episode of the TV series Route 66 (1962), which also featured Peter Lorre and Lon Chaney, Jr. In the 1960s, Karloff appeared in several films for American International Pictures, including The Comedy of Terrors (Jacques Tourneur, 1963) with Vincent Price and Peter Lorre, The Raven (Roger Corman, 1963), The Terror (Roger Corman, 1963) with Jack Nicholson, and Die, Monster, Die! (Daniel Haller, 1965). Another project for American International release was the frightening Italian horror classic, I tre volti della paura/Black Sabbath (Mario Bava, 1963), in which Karloff played a vampire with bone chilling intensity. He also starred in British cult director Michael Reeves's second feature film, The Sorcerers (1966). He gained new popularity among a young generation when he narrated the animated TV film Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas (Chuck Jones, Ben Washam. 1966), and provided the voice of the Grinch. Karloff later received a Grammy Award for Best Recording For Children after the story was released as a record. Then he starred as a retired horror film actor in Targets (Peter Bogdanovich, 1968), Steve Vertlieb: “Targets was a profoundly disturbing study of a young sniper holding a small Midwestern community, deep in the bible belt, terrifyingly at bay. The celebrated subplot concerned the philosophical dilemma of creating fanciful horrors on the screen, while graphic, troubling reality was eclipsing the superficiality so tiredly repeated by Hollywood. Karloff co-starred, essentially as himself, an aged horror star named Byron Orlok, who wants simply to retire from the imagined horrors of a faded genre, only to come shockingly to grips with the depravity and genuine terror found on America's streets. Bogdanovich's first film as a director won praise from critics and audiences throughout the world community, and won its elder star the best, most respectful notices of his later career.”. In 1968, he played occult expert Professor Marsh in the British production Curse of the Crimson Altar (Vernon Sewell, 1968), which was the last Karloff film to be released during his lifetime. He ended his career by appearing in four low-budget Mexican horror films, which were released posthumously. While shooting his final films, Karloff suffered from emphysema. Only half of one lung was still functioning and he required oxygen between takes. he contracted bronchitis in 1968 and was hospitalized. Early 1969, he died of pneumonia at the King Edward VII Hospital, Midhurst, in Sussex, at the age of 81. Boris Karloff married five times and had one child, daughter Sara Karloff, by his fourth wife.

 

Sources: Steve Vertlieb (The Thunder Child), Wikipedia, and IMDb.

"You were a nymph and I was an echo.

You, a letter and I, the lipstick.

I waited for you in the wrong skin.

The suitor: stuttering,

unsuitable."

- Emily O’Neill, "Wedding Soup"

 

-----

it's been a while Flickr. I missed you.

My 'adventurous' summer is as monotonous as tomato soup.

Bleh.

Read the write-up on The Brothers Brick.

I just parked at the Looking Glass Rock Overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway to hike to Skinny Dip Falls. Not long after getting on the trail I ran into this guy with his head hanging over the trail. I had heard the legends of the creature lurking in the forrest but never thought they were real. Until now when I saw his devilish eye.

 

But all turned out well. He asked what my gear was and I stuttered out N-N-N-Nikon. Turns out he loves Nikon. Canon users should use caution.

 

Thanks for viewing my photo stream. Comments are always welcome. reid-northrup.artistwebsites.com

 

Best Viewed with black border. Please Press "L" for lightbox.

==========================

Copyright ©Reid Northrup, 2015, All Rights Reserved, Worldwide. Please don't use my photos in any way without permission.

A fisheye HDR shot of the old Fire Station next to Piccadilly Station in Manchester. Shot from the concourse. A b-b-b-b-bus stutters across the 5 frame sequence in the lower centre of the shot.

Nathanial Frost, another vampire I recently made because I decided I want a clan.

 

I think he's sexy ...

Civita di Bagnoregio (Viterbo):

Civita (the dying town), like an island in our memory or a figment of our imagination, is connected by a narrow walkway to reality and to the surrounding countryside; it takes us far away, not so much in distance as in time....There is a feeling that one is leaving the real world, and this filling becomes stronger after entering the ancient city gate, standing guard over a sheer drop between the remains of two houses with thir windows opened wide over the emptiness.One almost has the impression that this gate opens into a supernatural world, surviving in another dimension.

 

Civita di Bagnoregio (Viterbo):

Storia, arte, cultura e tradizioni, sono i requisiti fondamentali di un territorio che sembra quasi essersi fermato in un passato ricco di avvenimenti.

Civita di Bagnoregio è un esempio di meraviglia unico nel suo genere.

Unita al mondo solo da un lungo e stretto ponte, la "Città che muore", ormai da tempo così chiamata a causa dei lenti franamenti delle pareti di tufo, racchiude un ciuffo di case medioevali ed una popolazione di pochissime famiglie.Appoggiata dolcemente su un cucuzzolo, la cittadina sovrasta imperiosamente l'immensa vallata sottostante, offrendo così al turista un incantevole e indimenticabile scenario.

 

-------------------------------------------------------

 

"Colorblind" - Counting Crows

it.youtube.com/watch?v=y0s7ycdUcHk

 

I am colorblind

Coffee black and egg white

Pull me out from inside

I am ready

I am taffy stuck and tongue tied

Stutter shook and uptight

Pull me out from inside

I am ready

I am fine

I am covered in skin

No one gets to come in

Pull me out from inside

I am folded and unfolded and unfolding

I am colorblind

Coffee black and egg white

Pull me out from inside

I am ready

I am fine

  

Read the write-up on The Brothers Brick.

Read the write-up on The Brothers Brick.

BY WILFRED OWEN

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?

— Only the monstrous anger of the guns.

Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle

Can patter out their hasty orisons.

No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;

Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,—

The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;

And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

 

What candles may be held to speed them all?

Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes

Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.

The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;

Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,

And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

 

This memorial was photographed at Lisle sur Tarn, a lovely village situated between Albi and Toulouse in the Tarn department.

Aiden rarely goes to the library but he knows where Adelaide likes to spend her time at. He sees her struggling to reach for the book thankfully his growth spurt has came in handy for this moment in need. He walks up behind her to grabs the book, "Here you are." as he smirks. He waited for a response but none was said. "Adelaide?" he was a little puzzled but finally she stuttered out. "Thank you."

Browning machine guns: COBI

"We can slip in, two minutes. Just like that, piece of cake."

 

Edward Murr's aggravated countenance went unnoticed by the younger strategist at his side, straining at the leash. This was not the usual way. Waiting there in the damp, small hours of Fairfax's morning, Murr miserably contemplates whether or not to correct his partner. His own pause of uncertainty in his authority agitates him further.

 

"George," Murr posed to his accomplice, "do you believe Cathan would have sent you to do this task on your own?"

 

George considers, shifting his stance in the bushes that the pair was using for cover.

 

"He might have."

 

"He would not," Murr redresses. "Leading me to my next question: Do you think there is a reason why I'm the person on this crew that Cathan hasn't been inclined to lecture about, shall we say, a botched errand?"

 

George lets an indignant puff of air out from the back of his throat this time, but fails to suppress a smile, all the same. Murr raises a hand before the hothead can conjure a sarcastic riposte.

 

"No, I'll help you; I'm aware your power isn't cerebral. See, I've already taken my trial by fire. Cathan was there. When I work, the calls I make don't come from a place of needing to prove myself. Not anymore. Now if you're going to assume to tell me how to go about this operation in a way Cathan would approve of..."

 

It's George's turn to cut in. "You're going to have to share your best friend, Ed. Do you think there's a reason why he's extended his circle of trust beyond just you?"

 

Murr shrugs off the intentionally disparaging imitation. "Home invasions are sloppy. You can take my word for it. We get the kid on the way to or back from the school."

 

"There's still going to be cops crawling all over. We've been holding up in this town for too long."

 

"Kaleidoscope managed the patrols last night. So will we now."

 

"Right..." George sits back. "And the kid. If she knows nothing..."

 

"Then we throw her back, and the interrogation won't need to be... excessive. What kind of question is that?"

 

"Oh you misunderstand, Pops. I'm hoping she IS tied to this hero running around. Be a shame if Kalei or Chain Master were the only ones who had any fun, before we have to get serious for the big day."

 

At this, Murr is overcome with revulsion. "This is necessary. Not fun."

 

George just keeps his eyes on the Nash household. "You can call the shots on the mission, Ed. Do me a solid, though; don't tell me how much I can enjoy it."

  

***

  

Vicki vowed to herself for the tenth time that, if she made it out of (whatever this was) alive, she was never going to get anywhere she needed to be by running, ever again.

 

Even after all she had experienced in the past few hours, she was finding it difficult to accept what she had been told, and what she now held in her scratched hands. Frannie Nash-the mousy, wouldn't-harm-a-fly Frannie, of all people-was next on these creeps' hit-list? There was a whole community living in the old mines, helping a superhero? And this phone... this phone was going to solve her problems. Somehow.

 

"It's not a wireless, it... HAS a wire!" Vicki bemoans, still plodding along into town, grappling in annoyance with the clunky object and its blanket. It hadn't been hung up by its owner; the cord was simply a tangled mess, fastening the receiver to the body of the dial. "How does he expect me to use this piece of-"

 

Angrily holding the device to her ear to prove to herself its worthlessness, she detects, to her amazement, the white noise of functional electronics. She halts for an instant, before remembering the urgency behind her flight, and she resigns to making tracks towards Frannie's home, first, and pondering this bizarre phenomenon, second. But over the earpiece comes a diligent, somewhat droll voice:

 

"If you wish to assume a new identity, please, end your current call and redial."

 

"... What the shit," Vicki concedes in exasperation.

 

"If you are still in immediate peril, please, stay on the line."

 

Vicki continues navigating the streets, having, at long last, put Fairfax's more rural landscape behind her. She sees a lone jogger, but no stationed police officers. The lax security was nearly enough to make Vicki question whether she was being subjected to the glass woman's trickery again, but nothing else was sickeningly off-putting. She wasn't sure a policeman would be up to listening anyway, with the story she had to tell. Fairfax wasn't supposed to be quite this crazy.

 

Diverting to the precinct and chancing her troubles with the authorities was off the table, Vicki decided. Frannie could already be...

 

"My friend is about to be in danger! You're supposed to do... something. Whoever 'you' are."

 

"I am your Operator. Are you requesting assistance beyond your H-Dial's standard function?"

 

"I just got this thing today! I need serious help!"

 

Vicki all but plows straight into three pedestrians as she cuts past a hedge around a café corner. It's Glinda, Roger and Chris, wide-eyed, as equally ragged as she was.

 

Roger, having apparently caught her last exclamation, penetrates the awkward silence of the confrontation. "Well... I always told you as much."

 

Vicki's eye twitches absentmindedly, as she prepares to lambaste Roger's comedic timing to no end, only for Chris to also chime in.

 

"We just got back, thought we heard you yelling a street or two over. Vicki... We uh, well, you aren't going to believe this-"

 

"The boy in the park is a superhero and we almost got killed by a witch and a giant but there are people living in the silver mines and he told me to take a phone with me to save Frannie because they'll think she's in cahoots!" Vicki blurts out.

 

"Did... did you take drugs?!" Glinda asks, aghast at the prospect. "THAT's what you were doing instead of meeting us last-"

 

"THE PHONE. IS TALKING. Say 'Hi', phone!" Vicki's friends exchanged concerned glances as she hoists the machine towards them.

 

"If you are grievously injured, please, allow a friend or family member to hang up for you."

 

"There, crystal clear? Great, explain it to me," Vicki says dryly to the other astounded kids. She skips backward in the same direction she had been headed, calling out, "Frannie needs help, I'm going there. I'm starving, terrified, I kind of really really want you to come, and at the same time, not so much because I feel like this is definitely going to get freaky, sooo..."

 

"Vicki, w... oh come on!" Roger stumbles after her.

 

"Is this night ever going to end?" Glinda complains, following suit.

 

Chris cocks his head, bringing up the rear of the pack. "Did she say Frannie? You mean that... weird girl she knows who never comes over to our table during-"

 

"It's best to not go there, Chris," came Roger's interjection.

 

"She's not weird, Christopher; it's something you just... you don't need to know," Glinda summarizes.

 

"Why do girls keep all these things hidden and then still expect a guy to be perfectly mindful of the subject?" Chris asks, not condescendingly but earnestly.

 

"Why do boys assume they're going to have something worthwhile to say if they did hear the whole story?" Glinda counters.

 

Chris and Roger slow as Vicki and Glinda keep up the pace. The boys share a look. "Huh."

  

***

  

"She's... Ed, she's coming out. Back porch."

 

Murr spies the girl, tromping out the screen door. She seats herself despondently on rickety wooden steps, oblivious to the men's presence yards away.

 

"And early enough that there's not a potential witness in sight. Here I was thinking we were going to have to work for this," George spits, still tugging at his gloves as a force of habit.

 

Murr speaks softly. "Circle around now, I'll stay here. We corner her. In case she's faster than she looks."

 

"Sheesh, would you look at this kid. Sitting out here at the crack of dawn like some depressed old lady. Being kidnapped might be a marked improvement."

 

"NOW."

 

"Loosen up, 'Distortionex'. We're about to be Cathan's favorites."

  

***

  

Vicki and her pursuers arrive at one final hill's crest, serving as the border of Frannie's back yard. There are but a hand-full of aspens obstructing their view of the residence.

 

"... and so we just took off," Chris pants, recapping for Vicki his account of the beings in the cornfield. "The guy in the armor barely touched the monster and it-"

 

"Blew up," Glinda quivers. "Some of it did, anyway."

 

Vicki stops dead in her tracks, the other three piling up at her back. She turns around timidly, not at all like herself.

 

"I made up my mind. You guys should stay away, if those goons are here. Nick and I barely got away the first time."

 

"Vicki, just pause for five seconds and tell us what's going on! Weird stuff went down last night, for ALL of us, and I for one want to know if and how it connects," Roger implores. "What exactly are we doing here?"

 

"I hope I'm doing nothing here. I hope-" Vicki doesn't finish, suddenly dropping to the ground. In her hurry she slides on wet leaves beneath her shoes, yanking Chris down with her behind a tree, and shushes him. Roger and Glinda do the same without instruction. Just a short sprint below them sits Frannie, seemingly meditating in the still air, unaware of a man clothed and masked in blue, easing toward her around the north side of her home.

 

"Stay. Here," Vicki mouths. She throws away the dial's cloth.

 

"What's Frannie DOI-" Chris mutters not so quietly, prompting Roger to slap a hand over his face.

 

The man was thirty feet from Frannie.

 

Vicki holds the phone up once again. "Phone guy? I need that help now!"

 

"If you wish to assume a new identity, please, end your current call and redial."

 

The man was twenty feet away.

 

"We have to warn her!" Glinda objects. Roger and Chris both look to Vicki questioningly.

 

"I haven't used you yet, why do I need to redial?" Vicki demands.

 

Glinda pulls her hair. "Who cares?? Dial!"

 

Fifteen feet.

 

The speaker crackles like a fire. "Please redial for another hero. Your H-Dial is still in use."

 

"Nick," Vicki realizes. What was going to happen to Nick if she...

 

Ten feet.

 

Roger pounds the tree with his palm. "Do it or I will!"

 

Vicki slams the phone down in its cradle, then slings it back up to her ear. The dial is emanating heat now, and magenta strands of electricity dance across the cord.

 

"Dial 'H'," it offers Vicki.

 

"Dial!" Glinda repeats.

 

A body-length separates Frannie from the menace.

 

Vicki dials.

  

***

  

A concussive blast of light and sound sizzles out from the woods, ripping Edward Murr off his feet. George Schneider, too, is taken by surprise, and cannot reach Frannie in time to nab her, as he is unceremoniously lifted headfirst into a drain pipe. Frannie tumbles off the porch, skipping a heartbeat or two as she recovers and scans all about the property. She recognizes Glinda, and two other boys she knew were Vicki's friends, standing in a now-cleared ring of smoldering grass. They were shielding themselves from a fourth figure within the haze: A lean woman, wearing striking blue over all but her mouth and hair.

 

"Who-"

 

"The hell is that supposed to be?" Murr finishes, wiping mulch off his helmet.

 

The heroine steps forward, one hand curled to make a fist and the elbow down at her side.

 

"If you evildoers think you have the run of the town, you're in for a little surprise! THUMBELINA is here!" she belts out.

 

"Uh," Roger adds.

 

The woman snaps out of the moment, now appearing thoroughly bewildered by her own voice. "Why did I just say that? Why... am I THIS TALL?"

 

A dumbfounded Glinda stares, mouth agape. "Vicki?!"

 

Frannie bolts for the door back to her kitchen, but from her right, a gleaming, gold netting zips past her nose and adheres to the frame and knob. George takes aim again with an index finger, nursing a lump on his temple with his free hand. His expression is, to say the least, unamused.

 

Vicki/"Thumbelina", larger than life and overflowing with untapped power, springs forth to stop the would-be assailant. "You could use some micromanaging, you ugly WHAT AM I SAYING?!"

 

"Okay," Murr accepts, pointing his knuckles at the woman rushing his ally. The air between his fingers ripples.

 

"Watch out!" Roger hollers. "Red guy!"

 

Vicki spots the second man. Her new form shrinks reflexively, closing the last bit of distance to George in a flying leap, and letting Murr's beam attack carry on careening through the yard. It impacts a tree, instantaneously reducing it to a brownish puddle, as Vicki executes a kick to George's upper arm, driving him against the wooden slats of the house; even at a fraction of her original size, she seemed to have lost no velocity nor mass. Frannie sees the opening and takes off again, now towards the kids who are still up the hill, scarcely comprehending the circumstances.

 

"Help, Glinda!" is Frannie's cry.

 

Murr unleashes another blast, this one aimed at Frannie. She tackles the grass in time to avoid the open air she had just been occupying hardening; it crinkles and squeaks like a crushed water bottle. Vicki leaves a doubly battered George to now take on Murr, while Chris notes something amidst the pandemonium.

 

"The dial slid down there!" he informs his two friends, steeling himself to get closer to the action to retrieve it.

 

"There's also some dude liquefying TREES down there!" Roger reports, as though Chris had missed this.

 

"And a vegetable monster almost pulverized you last night. So let's not-"

 

"Nothin' doin', Chris!"

 

Roger grips Chris' sweater, but not so tightly that Chris couldn't break free if he wanted. That was just it; Chris, despite his words, truly could not make himself take one step nearer to the dial, Frannie, or the metahuman powers whizzing left and right. He saw himself again in the corn field, fixed in place there in the mud, at the mercy of a threat his friends had been able to overcome when the chips were down. But not him. The thought of it ate through Chris like acid.

 

"Let's all go! All at once!" Glinda urges. "Come on, Frannie is-"

 

"Almost mine," Murr tells himself, having completely cut Frannie off from the far hill with pillars of solid air. Vicki lunges at him at one-twentieth her normal height, but the man directs a wide ray of energy into her. A jet of boiling water surrounds her, and she is flung clear through the nearby tool shed. Just then, police sirens blare beyond the row of houses, and Murr stays his hand long enough for Frannie to regain her footing. She faces him, unable to keep a few tears from escaping.

 

"We just want some answers, kid. Don't make a whole production out of this."

 

"Hey!"

 

Glinda, Roger and Chris, shoulder to shoulder, bounded to the base of the hill. To Frannie, none of them come across as the spitting image of confidence. Even so, the trio standing there rigidly, appearing as though they weren't sure what to do with their arms, gave Frannie an unusually warm feeling. Roger then commences to pick up the H-Dial.

 

"You must be looking for this, jackoff," Roger deduces. He and his companions back away a few inches, at Murr's face twisting with both rage and desperation.

 

The sirens continue to close in. George begins to stir on the porch, swearing and clutching his side. Vicki somersaults out of the wreckage of the shed, scalded but determined as ever.

 

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to minimize damages?" she berates Murr. Vicki groans her own instinctual pun, then waves a hand behind herself. The shed reconstructs in a flurry, rakes and shovels settling back onto their hooks with absolute precision. "... I can do that?"

 

"Drop the phone," Murr commands.

 

"Just ICE 'EM ALREADY!" George screams, loosing a slew of gilded, silk strands at the gathered kids.

 

Vicki wills several blades of grass to enlarge, swatting the projectiles out of the air, before focusing on Murr. George does not cease the barrage, forcing Roger and the others to duck and dodge along a clothesline. The hanging shirts provide minimal protection, with one of the webs snaring Glinda's shoelaces and pant leg, dragging her down. Roger and Chris purposely fall to their knees to stop their momentum, and scramble back to Glinda. All three pull hopelessly at the bonds, as George zeroes in.

 

Wrenching both of Murr's forearms in the crook of one leg, Vicki flips into a handstand on just one arm. Murr roars in pain, struggling to grab his opponent. His outstretched fingers arc and sputter with transmutative properties, licking at Vicki's scorched suit. Her unoccupied hand points at George, intending to shrink him. Her concentration shatters when Murr succeeds in tapping her lower leg, and a chunk of boot, skin and muscle evaporates. Vicki yowls; distracted, the hex she had meant for George only influences his mask. The disguise, significantly scaled down, immediately constricts his face. George joins the other superpowered persons' cries with his own distressed caterwaul. He claws at the taut latex around his jaw and eyelids.

 

Glinda remains stuck in spite of her friends' efforts. The sirens have stopped now. Police are shouting from the street.

 

Murr rams Vicki into the dirt using a plated shoulder. Inches from grasping her neck, something conks into his reinforced helmet. Paper-thin fractures spread over the glass guard, and he trips, as tiny crystal particles begin to infiltrate his tear ducts. A baseball rolls to a stop at Vicki's heel. Murr can't see it, only the blurry outline of a pink windbreaker worn by Frannie Nash, who slowly straightens from her pitch. Not realizing the man is effectively blinded, she backs up, nearly tripping herself, closer to where Glinda lay on the turf.

 

"Agh... Golden Web?" Murr stutters in the direction he believes George to be. "Get us out... of here."

 

The police were close enough for their radios' scratchy commands to be heard. George finally acknowledges the ticking clock and, still hindered by his mask, crawls to Murr's voice. He links their arms, and fires a web up and over the rear hill's trees. The blonde man drools like a feral dog; his face is red both from its inhibited movement, as well as no small amount of humiliation.

 

"I'll have your heads, brats. You and your super-friends... ALL your heads, on pikes!"

 

The pair of villains catapult over the ground on Golden Web's rope, until they are out of sight. Roger dives for Vicki the moment their adversaries have disappeared. Frannie maintains her distance.

 

"Vicki?! Hey!"

 

Roger's hands hover tentatively over her leg wound. Her eyes are cloudy, but she breathes plainly. Having retained the Operator's advice, Vicki indicates with a bloodied finger for him to present the H-Dial.

 

"Han- ... Hang up."

 

Roger does so without hesitation. A smoky vacuum effect develops between the heroine and the device. Her voluminous hair and the blue of her costume drain into the funnel of strange energies, and with a slight gust, the artificial storm vanishes entirely. The real Vicki, with only the minor scrapes and bruises she had earned before using the dial, rests in the grass, alert and speechless.

 

Glinda bites her lip and watches the sides of the house anxiously. "Vicki... run with it!"

 

All five kids use the last seconds, before the police arrive, to mull over their options. They didn't require any more time than was available. Five kids, who had just found a way to turn the tides, who had known little else besides barriers, a time and a place for everything, and childhoods sifting away all too soon... were not going to surrender this gift.

 

The verdict is reached unanimously, with no more than four nods, and an apprehensive gulp from Frannie. Vicki splits off for the treeline, toting the H-Dial once again.

 

"More running," she remarks laboriously. "Stellar."

  

***

  

"Help! My friend needs help, she's stuck!"

 

Chris runs directly towards the band of policemen approaching from the left of Frannie's home, as Roger does the same to those on the right. If they can just keep the officers busy for a few seconds, Vicki could sneak away with-

 

"Hold your fire! Hold!"

 

"Please, she's over there."

 

"Okay, son, stay right here; we're going to check it out and help your friend," the first officer assures Chris.

 

The boy sees Roger trying to shepherd every cop to Glinda's spot in the yard, but Vicki is already gone without a trace, rendering the diversion unnecessary. Frannie races up her porch's steps. Two of the officers attempt to call her back until her mother emerges from the doorway onto the stoop. She clings to Frannie, ushering her inside. Chris wonders briefly if Mrs. Nash will ignore the cops altogether, but she turns to engage their questions, once she and her daughter are behind the screen door.

 

"I guess Glinda and Roger know best," Chris concludes for himself. "If Frannie's mom is some kind of recluse, that's not my business."

 

All in all, he knew things had played out very fortunately for him and the others. As for the sit-down with parents and explanations for reckless behavior that were sure to come, Chris was holding onto the hope that he could at least make it home, and catch them off guard with the news. Rather than...

 

"Son."

 

This time it wasn't the geniality of a policeman that had earned Chris the title.

 

"Hi Dad."

 

Detective Greg King looks back at the squad cars parked alongside the curb, and his own unmarked vehicle, roosting majestically in the center of the Nash's flower garden. Chris' father composes himself, hands pushing his jacket aside to rest on his waist, eyes fixated on the end of his tie. "Good thing I was in the neighborhood."

 

"Yup."

 

"Let's go home, Chris. Your mother needs to kill you."

Working on 'a' coronation altarpiece (with bicycles and spermatozoon light fitting). Photograph taken on September 10th, 2007, 'multiply' uploading (like a stutter). Stir.

 

multiply

1 of 3

verb

mul·​ti·​ply ˈməl-tə-ˌplī

multiplied; multiplying

Synonyms of multiply

transitive verb

1

: to increase in number especially greatly or in multiples : AUGMENT

2

a

: to find the product of by multiplication

multiply 7 and 8

b

: to use as a multiplicand in multiplication with another number

multiply 7 by 8

intransitive verb

1

a

: to become greater in number : SPREAD

b

: BREED, PROPAGATE

2

: to perform multiplication

multiply

2 of 3

adverb

mul·​ti·​ply ˈməl-tə-plē

: in a multiple manner : in several ways

multiply talented children

 

multiply (stutter)

2 of 3

adverb

mul·​ti·​ply ˈməl-tə-plē

: in a multiple manner : in several ways

multiply talented children

multi-ply

3 of 3

adjective

mul·​ti-ply ˌməl-tē-ˈplī -ˌtī-

: composed of several plies

We sit in front of a woman with a glass head, and two other men.

  

This new mystery woman, Mysterio nearly blew Kate and I up in the sewer and now she’s captured us. Turns out she’s working with Hobgoblin and Chameleon.

  

“Long time no see Hobby old pal, still losing your mind?” I ask sarcastically.

  

“Oh Mr. Kingsley is long gone, I’ve been using some of my magic to keep him from going over the edge.” Mysterio explains.

  

Hobgoblin has seemed much different, he stutters when he talks as if he’s on the edge as Mysterio said. He also changed his costume, now he has this weird orange scaly armor and dark blue sleeves and pants. He kept his old mask but added a white cape.

  

“What do you want with us?” Kate asks

  

“Well it’s not us you see, it’s our boss.” Chameleon says.

  

“How long have you been working together?” I ask.

  

“That doesn’t matter, but it’s been long time. Remember when you first met Chameleon? I was there, helped him escape, same with Hobgoblin when you first met.”

  

“So you guys have a history.”

  

“Yeah, see boss wants revenge on you, retribution as he called it. He said to wait till be got here but, why not have a bit of fun.” Chameleon says as he stands up pulling a knife from his pocket.

  

“Hehheehee! Let’s h-have some fun-n kids!” Hobgoblin yells as if he’s a child on a sugar high.

  

Chameleon opens up the knife and sticks it to Kate’s throat, then Hobgoblin takes of his glove and slaps me in the face with it.

  

“HeehEeHaHeH!” Hobgoblin laughs.

  

“So what’s it gonna be sweetheart? Painful or extra painful?” Chameleon asks.

  

Kate stares him in the eyes, or where they would be if you could see them, and then she spits at him.

  

“Extra pain it is!” Chameleon says as he cuts Kate across the arm.

  

“AUGHHH!” She screams.

  

Meanwhile Hobgoblin is dancing around and randomly kicking me and punching me, he then reaches for the table and grabs a pistol. He brings it right up to me and shoots right beside my head, causing my ears to ring. He is then frozen still by Mysterio, she pulls the gun from his hand and replaces it with a metal pipe.

  

“No guns Hobgoblin! Remember what boss said!” Mysterio says.

  

Hobgoblin grips the pipe tightly and starts to bash me it the knees and arms. Chameleon is just watching as Kate bleeds and Mysterio is standing by watching. I struggle to move but I’m just able to trip Hobgoblin and grab his pipe. Mysterio runs to help Hobgoblin and I throw the pipe at Chameleon, causing him to drop his knife for Kate to get. She manages to get through Mysterio’s mist and pick up the knife.

  

“Kate, pass!” I say.

  

Kate passes in to me and I throw it at Mysterio, it hits her in the leg and the mist fades away just long enough for us to escape, and for her to lose control of Hobgoblin.

  

“You bastards!” She yells.

  

Hobgoblin appears to be having some type seizure, Mysterio is bleeding and Chameleon is just getting up.

  

“Nice try Barton, but you’re not getting away!” Chameleon yells.

  

“Two against one? I think we’ll be fine.” Kate says.

  

I lunge at Chameleon and Kate runs for the pistol on the table.

  

“Kate find a phone! Call the team!”

  

“Will do!”

  

She grabs the pistol and hits Mysterio with the handle of the gun, knocking her out. Then, she searches the room for a phone. Meanwhile Chameleon and I fight against the hard, cold stone floor. I reach to punch him, but he knees me in the gut, knocking the breath out of me. I roll on to my back and Chameleon starts to hit me over and over, eventually ripping off my mask. Kate finally finds a phone and calls the team and Luke.

  

“Guys! You have to come to the sewers, Clint and I are…”

  

BANG

  

A bullet come straight out from the main part of the sewer, hitting the phone right out of Kate’s hand. Everyone stops and looks to where the bullet came from. In the middle of the hole in the wall is a bald man, with stubble in a plain black suit and tie.

  

“Bullseye.” The man says as he lowers his gun.

  

TO BE CONCLUDED…

 

Lunch time comes around, and I make sure to avoid Flash and the rest of his goon squad as I make my way to the cafeteria. Upon entering, I spot Harry, Lana, and Cheyenne at a table in the corner of the room. It seems I got here before the lunchtime rush, as there aren't many people in here. I sit down beside Harry, and they notice me sit down.

 

"Hey Peter!" Lana says cheerfully.

 

"Oh hey Lana! What'd I miss?" I ask, stuttering somewhat.

 

"Not much Pete.. We were just talking about going rock climbing after school today.. As a friendship building exercise! You in?" Harry pipes up.

 

"Sorry Harry.. I have to go a fundraiser tonight hosted by Mrs. Hardy. Not sure why Aunt May wants us both to go, but I guess I should just to make sure Aunt May isn't alone out there.. She's still trying to set me up with Felicia as well.. So that will be just great..." I reply, with the last remark in a sarcastic tone..

 

"Dang dude. Sorry to hear that.. Though Felicia is quite the catch, even if her father is a murdering scumbag."

 

"Yeah well there's no way I'm dating the daughter of the man who killed my Uncle Ben." Saying it out loud makes me even angrier. My voice rises more and more as the sentence goes on.

 

Lana: "Oook then.. Let's talk about something else..." After a pause, she keeps talking.

"So Cheyenne, where did you live before here?"

 

"Honestly, due to business, my parents moved around a lot. Canada, Japan, Columbia, Denmark, Africa, other parts of the United States, and New Zealand to name a few. Some only for a couple of months, others for a few years." Wonder why she wastes her time stealing then, if her parents are loaded enough to travel the world.

 

Lana: "Wow!! That's awesome! I've always wanted to travel, just never had the time or money."

 

"Lana, you're missing out! It's settled then. We will all just have to take a trip sometime!" Harry replies with such enthusiasm.

 

"The only time you've been on vacation Harry was when you had to go with your dad that one time for a week. Besides, you told me you were stuck sitting in board meetings the whole week."

 

"Not cool Pete." Harry whispers to me in a joking tone.

"Dangit, you got me there Pete! Unfortunately, it's true... Which gives me all the reason more to go on a real vacation. Who better to go with than friends?"

 

I hear the bell ring, and instinctively get up.

 

"See you all later! And Peter, good luck man!" Harry says, as he grabs his backpack, and runs out of the cafeteria.

 

"Cya both tomorrow!" I say, as I'm about to head out for my next class. Lana and Cheyenne both say goodbye before going back to talking among themselves. You would think after learning more about Cheyenne it would make me trust her more. But there's just this feeling I can't shake. And no, it's not just that she spends her nights dressed up in tactical gear, stealing from major companies. Well whatever it is, I'll be sure to find it out next time she decides to steal. Wish I had more leads on 'Princess' as well. Oh right, I haven't called Gwen Stacy at all to tutor me either.. Guess I should be more worried about surviving tonight before I worry about all this other stuff.

 

The rest of the school day is pretty uneventful, with Sally Avril complaining once more in class, and with Flash Thompson trying to push my buttons during Biology. I zone him out though, as I keep to myself, writing down notes of the main points of today's lesson. When the last bell rings, I go to my locker, and grab the other textbooks I need. After that, I make my way onto the bus. After sitting down, I just look out the window, as we drive out of the school parking lot. The bus is somehow noisier than usual.. People gossiping about whose with who, and predictions for who'll get together. After 15 minutes of stopping and driving, we arrive at the bus stop on my street. I get up, and see Henry Jackson get out ahead of me. Once I get off the bus, I make my way across the street, and up the steps of the house.

 

Opening the door I say "Aunt May, I'm home!"

 

"Peter! I'm just making some dinner now. I found Ben's dress suit and pants from when he was your age. It's on a hanger in your room."

 

"Ok, thanks! I'll just be doing homework. Just let me know when dinner's ready and when we have to go to that fundraiser.."

 

"Will do. Just make sure you have a shower soon. Have to look your best for Felicia.."

 

"Yeah yeah ok.." Still stuck on trying to set me up.. Yay.. I take off my converse and drop off my backpack in my room, before going into the shower. Usually I like to stay in the shower for a pretty long time, but today, I really don't feel like it. After the shower I put on some clean clothes, before going into my room, and crashing onto the bed. I pull out one of many worksheets, and my textbook. I haven't even started yet, and I'm bored.. I doodle on the side of the worksheet, as my eyes try to read the textbook. How am I supposed to work on this when there's a whole slew of problems for both Peter Parker and Spider-Man? If only I could be Spider-Man full time... But that won't help Aunt May pay the bills.. Gah, let's get this over with..

 

Read the write-up on The Brothers Brick.

 

The sky no longer opens.

It is tapped.

 

A foreign geometry inserts itself

between voltage and prayer,

between the cable’s tension

and the tree’s last memory of roots.

 

This triangle is not a symbol.

It is an instrument.

 

It does not descend; it interfaces.

 

It drinks the static breath of clouds,

coils perception into recursive angles,

teaches the horizon to stutter.

 

Inside it, forests are archived,

light is folded into procedural wounds,

and time forgets which direction

was ever considered forward.

 

The poles do not transmit electricity anymore.

They transmit obedience.

 

A ritual hum travels through copper veins,

rewriting the weather as doctrine.

Rain becomes a protocol.

Thunder, a checksum failure.

 

No god arrives.

Only infrastructure wearing the mask of revelation.

 

This is the age where the sky is no longer above us,

but plugged into us.

 

The triangle waits; not to be worshipped,

but to be accepted as inevitable.

 

When it finally disconnects,

there will be no blackout.

 

Only the unbearable silence

of a world realizing

it had been thinking

on borrowed circuits.

105mm Howitzer design reverse-engineered from the Brickmania M2A1 Howitzer.

 

Read the write-up on The Brothers Brick.

A late-teen Girl kept padlocked in leg braces and in school uniform as part of a psychology experiment - by Angela Fox, inspired by a tale written by Garth Toyntanen (INSTITUTIONALISED volume 3) toyntanen.blogspot.co.uk/ note the padlocks used to secure the leg braces and the card marked "stutterer" hanging around the girl's neck.

 

Here psychological pressure is going to be applied in an attempt to deliberately induce stammering as part of a residential experimental psychology study the poor thing has been fooled into volunteering for by her scheming stepmother.

 

More of Angela Fox's artwork can be found on Garth Toyntanen's website beyondthebarredwindow.weebly.com/ and her books on LULU, for example www.lulu.com/shop/angela-fox/the-wardress/ebook/product-2...

 

Obviously there had been some cross-contamination. Had Dolly dared to sneeze, perhaps?

 

They reminded him (Dolly had cantilevered to the 'He' and 'his' pronouns at this juncture) of Lautreamont’s description, they were “As beautiful as the chance encounter of a sewing machine and an umbrella on a dissecting table.”

 

It wasn’t really a worry. Dolly knew there was room for everything, and anything, in ‘Infrathin’, that a home would be found, that whole ‘white picket fence’ experience might be lived, even. They could find their own ‘reality’ together.

 

Perhaps it had been a tad over ambitious to attempt to clone them simultaneously, but 'the 1st cloned sheep learning to clone' had a certain ring of authenticity to it, had it not?

 

It's right there, in the job description, even.

 

He loved James' hands, in the same way that he loved a stutter in a person. They made him melt.

 

Either way, they, the new James and Marcel, were up and about in no time.

Yellow-belled Sapsuckers perch upright on trees like this Jamaican dogwood (Piscidia piscipula), leaning on their tails like other woodpeckers. They feed at sapwells—neat rows of shallow holes they drill in tree bark. They lap up the sugary sap along with any insects that may get caught there. Sapsuckers drum on trees and metal objects in a distinctive stuttering pattern.

 

Little Torch Key, Florida

A nice male Stuttering frog photographed on the Central coast.

Had great hopes for this location, but in the end, it became a confused mess in fading light. However, nice idea to take the steam train to the beach.

 

The bathers must have wondered what was happening as thirty-odd (odd) elderly men arrived wearing anoraks and sensible shoes in the tropical heat, and commenced to bark out 'pleasantries' such as "You're in the shot!".

 

The luxury Mount Lavinia hotel overwhelms the “B1a” class loco and train making its stuttering way back to Colombo from Galle.

 

Sri Lanka. February 2020. © David Hill

American postcard by Classico San Francisco, no. 233/01. Photo: Universal Pictures. Boris Karloff in Frankenstein (James Whale, 1931).

 

British actor Boris Karloff (1887-1969) is one of the true icons of the Horror cinema. He portrayed Frankenstein's monster in Frankenstein (1931), Bride of Frankenstein (1935), and Son of Frankenstein (1939), which resulted in his immense popularity. In the following decades, he worked in countless Horror films, but also in other genres, both in Europe and Hollywood.

 

Boris Karloff was born William Henry Pratt in 1887 in London, England. Pratt himself stated that he was born in Dulwich, which is nearby in London. His parents were Edward John Pratt, Jr. and his third wife Eliza Sarah Millard. ‘Billy’ never knew his father. Edward Pratt had worked for the Indian Salt Revenue Service and had virtually abandoned his family in far-off England. Edward died when his son was still an infant and so Billy was raised by his mother. He was the youngest of nine children, and following his mother's death was brought up by his elder brothers and sisters. As a child, Billy performed each Christmas in plays staged by St. Mary Magdalene's Church. His first role was that of The Demon King in the pantomime Cinderella. Billy was bow-legged, had a lisp, and stuttered. He conquered his stutter, but not his lisp, which was noticeable throughout his career in the film industry. After his education at private schools, he attended King's College London where he took studies aimed at a career with the British Government's Consular Service. However, in 1909, the 22-year-old left university without graduating and sailed from Liverpool to Canada, where he worked as a farm labourer and did various odd itinerant jobs. In Canada, he began appearing in theatrical performances and chose the stage name Boris Karloff. Later, he claimed he chose ‘Boris’ because it sounded foreign and exotic, and that ‘Karloff’ was a family name. However, his daughter Sara Karloff publicly denied any knowledge of Slavic forebears, Karloff or otherwise. One reason for the name change was to prevent embarrassment to his family. He did not reunite with his family until he returned to Britain to make The Ghoul (T. Hayes Hunter, 1933), opposite Cedric Hardwicke. Karloff was distraught that his family would disapprove of his new, macabre claim to world fame. Instead, his brothers jostled for position around him and happily posed for publicity photographs. In 1911, Karloff joined the Jeanne Russell Company and later joined the Harry St. Clair Co. which performed in Minot, North Dakota, for a year in an opera house above a hardware store. While trying to establish his acting career, Karloff had to perform years of difficult manual labour in Canada and the U.S. to make ends meet. He was left with back problems from which he suffered for the rest of his life. In 1917, he arrived in Hollywood, where he went on to make dozens of silent films. Some of his first roles were in film serials, such as The Masked Rider (Aubrey M. Kennedy, 1919), in Chapter 2 of which he can be glimpsed onscreen for the first time, and The Hope Diamond Mystery (Stuart Paton, 1920). In these early roles, he was often cast as an exotic Arabian or Indian villain. Other silent films were The Deadlier Sex (Robert Thornby, 1920) with Blanche Sweet, Omar the Tentmaker (James Young, 1922), Dynamite Dan (Bruce Mitchell, 1924) and Tarzan and the Golden Lion (J.P. McGowan, 1927) in which James Pierce played Tarzan. In 1926 Karloff found a provocative role in The Bells (James Young, 1926), in which he played a sinister hypnotist opposite Lionel Barrymore. He worked with Barrymore again in his first sound film, the thriller The Unholy Night (Lionel Barrymore, 1929).

 

A key film which brought Boris Karloff recognition was The Criminal Code (Howard Hawks, 1931), a prison drama in which he reprised a dramatic part he had played on stage. With his characteristic short-cropped hair and menacing features, Karloff was a frightening sight to behold. Opposite Edward G. Robinson, Karloff played a key supporting part as an unethical newspaper reporter in Five Star Final (Mervyn LeRoy, 1931), a film about tabloid journalism which was nominated for the Oscar for Best Picture. Karloff's role as Frankenstein's monster in Frankenstein (James Whale, 1931), based on the classic Mary Shelley book, propelled him to stardom. Wikipedia: “The bulky costume with four-inch platform boots made it an arduous role but the costume and extensive makeup produced the classic image. The costume was a job in itself for Karloff with the shoes weighing 11 pounds (5 kg) each.” The aura of mystery surrounding Karloff was highlighted in the opening credits, as he was listed as simply "?." The film was a commercial and critical success for Universal, and Karloff was instantly established as a hot property in Hollywood. Universal Studios was quick to acquire ownership of the copyright to the makeup format for the Frankenstein monster that Jack P. Pierce had designed. A year later, Karloff played another iconic character, Imhotep in The Mummy (Karl Freund, 1932). The Old Dark House (James Whale, 1932) with Charles Laughton, and the starring role in MGM’s The Mask of Fu Manchu (Charles Brabin, 1932) quickly followed. Steve Vertlieb at The Thunder Child: “Wonderfully kinky, the film co-starred young Myrna Loy as the intoxicating, yet sadistic Fah Lo See, Fu Manchu's sexually perverse daughter. Filmed before Hollywood's infamous production code, the film joyously escaped the later scrutiny of The Hayes Office, and remains a fascinating example of pre-code extravagance.” These films all confirmed Karloff's new-found stardom. Horror had become his primary genre, and he gave a string of lauded performances in 1930s Universal Horror films. Karloff reprised the role of Frankenstein's monster in two other films, the sensational Bride of Frankenstein (James Whale, 1935) and the less thrilling Son of Frankenstein (Rowland V. Lee, 1939), the latter also featuring Bela Lugosi. Steve Vertlieb about Bride of Frankenstein: “Whale delivered perhaps the greatest horror film of the decade and easily the most critically acclaimed rendition of Mary Shelley's novel ever released. The Bride of Frankenstein remains a work of sheer genius, a brilliantly conceived and realized take on loneliness, vanity, and madness. The cast of British character actors is simply superb.” While the long, creative partnership between Karloff and Lugosi never led to a close friendship, it produced some of the actors' most revered and enduring productions, beginning with The Black Cat (Edgar G. Ullmer, 1934). Follow-ups included The Raven (Lew Landers, 1935), the rarely seen, imaginative science fiction melodrama The Invisible Ray (Lambert Hillyer, 1936), and The Body Snatcher (Robert Wise, 1945). Karloff played a wide variety of roles in other genres besides Horror. He was memorably gunned down in a bowling alley in Howard Hawks' classic Scarface (1932) starring Paul Muni.. He played a religious First World War soldier in John Ford’s epic The Lost Patrol (1934) opposite Victor McLaglen. Between 1938 and 1940, Karloff starred in five films for Monogram Pictures, including Mr. Wong, Detective (William Nigh, 1938). During this period, he also starred with Basil Rathbone in Tower of London (Rowland V. Lee, 1939) as the murderous henchman of King Richard III, and with Margaret Lindsay in British Intelligence (Terry O. Morse, 1940). In 1944, he underwent a spinal operation to relieve his chronic arthritic condition.

 

Boris Karloff revisited the Frankenstein mythos in several later films, taking the starring role of the villainous Dr. Niemann in House of Frankenstein (Erle C. Kenton, 1944), in which the monster was played by Glenn Strange. He reprised the role of the ‘mad scientist’ in Frankenstein 1970 (Howard W. Koch, 1958) as Baron Victor von Frankenstein II, the grandson of the original creator. The finale reveals that the crippled Baron has given his face (i.e., Karloff's) to the monster. From 1945 to 1946, Boris Karloff appeared in three films for RKO produced by Val Lewton: Isle of the Dead (Mark Robson, 1945), The Body Snatcher (Robert Wise, 1945), and Bedlam (Mark Robson, 1946). Karloff had left Universal because he thought the Frankenstein franchise had run its course. Karloff was a frequent guest on radio programs. In 1949, he was the host and star of the radio and television anthology series Starring Boris Karloff. In 1950, he had his own weekly children's radio show in New York. He played children's music, told stories and riddles, and attracted many adult listeners as well. An enthusiastic performer, he returned to the Broadway stage in the original production of Arsenic and Old Lace (1941), in which he played a homicidal gangster enraged to be frequently mistaken for Karloff. In 1962, he reprised the role on television with Tony Randall and Tom Bosley. He also appeared as Captain Hook in the play Peter Pan with Jean Arthur. In 1955, he returned to the Broadway stage to portray the sympathetic Bishop Cauchon in Jean Anouilh's The Lark. Karloff regarded the production as the highlight of his long career. Julie Harris was his co-star as Joan of Arc in the celebrated play, recreated for live television in 1957 with Karloff, Harris and much of the original New York company intact. For his role, Karloff was nominated for a Tony Award. Karloff donned the monster make-up for the last time for a Halloween episode of the TV series Route 66 (1962), which also featured Peter Lorre and Lon Chaney, Jr. In the 1960s, Karloff appeared in several films for American International Pictures, including The Comedy of Terrors (Jacques Tourneur, 1963) with Vincent Price and Peter Lorre, The Raven (Roger Corman, 1963), The Terror (Roger Corman, 1963) with Jack Nicholson, and Die, Monster, Die! (Daniel Haller, 1965). Another project for American International release was the frightening Italian horror classic, I tre volti della paura/Black Sabbath (Mario Bava, 1963), in which Karloff played a vampire with bone-chilling intensity. He also starred in British cult director Michael Reeves's second feature film, The Sorcerers (1966). He gained new popularity among the young generation when he narrated the animated TV film Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas (Chuck Jones, Ben Washam. 1966), and provided the voice of the Grinch. Karloff later received a Grammy Award for Best Recording For Children after the story was released as a record. Then he starred as a retired horror film actor in Targets (Peter Bogdanovich, 1968), Steve Vertlieb: “Targets was a profoundly disturbing study of a young sniper holding a small Midwestern community, deep in the bible belt, terrifyingly at bay. The celebrated subplot concerned the philosophical dilemma of creating fanciful horrors on the screen, while the graphic, troubling reality was eclipsing the superficiality so tiredly repeated by Hollywood. Karloff co-starred, essentially as himself, an aged horror star named Byron Orlok, who wants simply to retire from the imagined horrors of a faded genre, only to come shockingly to grips with the depravity and genuine terror found on America's streets. Bogdanovich's first film as a director won praise from critics and audiences throughout the world community, and won its elder star the best, most respectful notices of his later career.”. In 1968, he played occult expert Professor Marsh in the British production Curse of the Crimson Altar (Vernon Sewell, 1968), which was the last Karloff film to be released during his lifetime. He ended his career by appearing in four low-budget Mexican horror films, which were released posthumously. While shooting his final films, Karloff suffered from emphysema. Only half of one lung was still functioning and he required oxygen between takes. he contracted bronchitis in 1968 and was hospitalized. In early 1969, he died of pneumonia at the King Edward VII Hospital, Midhurst, in Sussex, at the age of 81. Boris Karloff married five times and had one child, daughter Sara Karloff, by his fourth wife.

 

Sources: Steve Vertlieb (The Thunder Child), Wikipedia, and IMDb.

Sure enough, just as I reach the end of the mine shaft leading outside, my powers fail me, sending me crashing into the gravel in front of me. Owwh! I try flying, but no dice. No constructs either.. Strange.. Haven't had this happen before . I check on the pod kids, to make sure they're alright. Other then some being completely freaked out, they're fine. Can't say I blame them. Being stuck in a pod and getting experimented on. Nothing good comes from that. Hard to believe that was me once. Along with Detonator, and a few others. Honestly, it's still a lot for me to fully process. I take this time to call the public Archon number. Within a matter of minutes, there they are, dropping out of their jet. Archon ! It's a weird feeling, seeing them all face to face, especially after losing a key member of their team in Big Time. Titanic, Paragon, Brightstar, Shockwave, and a newer face that I don't quite recognize. Guess they've got a new member.

 

"He-y, thanks for coming! Record time too!" I say, stuttering throughout, clearly nervous. I mean, these are the cities biggest heroes, after all. I give them a brief rundown on everything I know of what went down here, with plenty of uhms, and likes throughout, trying to regain my thoughts. Of course I didn't say anything about my flashbacks. Wouldn't want them locking me away or something..

 

"You should probably head home. Thanks for the help and everything, but we've got this now." The newest member replies after my rundown is over.

 

"Yeah, about that.. Would I be able to get a ride? My uhm powers are kind of malfunctioning on me.." I say with a shrug. This causes Shockwave and newbie to chuckle.

 

"Right.. Hey Brightstar, this bloke here needs a ride home. Fly him home, alright? I'll send you the coordinates." By the way Shockwave phrased it, it was more of an order than a request. Rather than rolling her eyes like I thought she would, she just nodded, and smiled.

 

"Sounds good."

 

"Wait, how do you even know-?" I give a look of confusion, as Shockwave gives me a sly smirk.

 

"Facial rec software in the visor. Not hard to pinpoint where ya live after that. Should defo consider getting yourself a helmet, or some goggles if you don't want people recognizing ya, mate. Assuming you keep getting yourself into trouble like this. Can't say we're too keen on that idea, but we can't be everywhere." Shockwave interrupts me mid sentence, the smirk still there, as he continues to talk with his thick Australian accent.

 

"That's not scary at all..." I say with a slight pause, before continuing. "But thanks, I appreciate the advice, and safe passage home!" It's then that Brightstar lifts me up into her arms, and flies off. Can't say this is how I was expecting the night to end, but there's no way I'm complaining.

 

--------------------------------------

It didn't take long for her to fly me home. I give a quick thank you, before she flies off. That's just great. Now all of Archon, not just the Judgement branch, knows who I am. In addition to Watchman, Detonator, Architect.. The list goes on. Wow, I'm really bad at this secret identity thing. Like Shockwave said, I really need to invest in some headgear. As I step through the front door, I notice my parents watching the news. No surprises here, there's already a report on Cooper's Landing's experiments. Dad turns around, and sees me walk in

 

"Where have you been?" He questions, noticing I'm in costume.

 

"Well, you're looking at it." I say, pointing to the TV.

 

"You were there? Why?" My mom pipes in.

 

"Recently, I've got these headaches, along with these occasional flashes. Still images, of things that at the time, I had no recollection of. One of which was of Cooper's Landing itself. I figured if I went down there, I'd get some answers. I didn't really want to bring it up, cause I knew it'd only cause you more grief."

 

"Of course we would be worried! You should have told us! That way we could've helped."

 

"Olivia, please.. Yelling at our boy won't do anything now... All that should matter right now is that our Andy is back." Is all my dad says, trying to console my mom. After a few seconds, he speaks up again. "So? Did you get any answers?"

 

"Thank you, dad. Yeah, I did. It all started with the time I went missing as a child." It's then I told them everything that I remembered from my repressed memories. How I was kidnapped, and experimented on by the Watchman, and his scientists. The greyish liquid, and how it was the source of my abilities. Project Beacon. How it all happened on Cooper's Landing, and that I was eventually saved by the man in the black and white costume. The story caught them off guard, and got them emotional. Which of course, got me emotional. They stood up, silent, and just pulled me into the group hug. We just stood there in silence, occasionally tearing up. As satisfying as it was to find the answers I've been looking for, it's even better getting to share in this moment with my parents. We finally know the full story of what happened. We can almost close that chapter of my life, and move forward. There's two questions that I still haven't gotten full answers to. Who is Detonator? And who is the Watchman? That's not even including the recent power malfunction either. It's a lot to think about, but I'll leave that for tomorrow. Right now, I need some sleep.

Halloween 2 PJL

  

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Scarlet pulled up her glove to complete her costume as Jason stepped into the room using his hand to cover where she stood.

  

“You finished getting ready?” He asked. Smirking, Scarlet answered,

  

“Yes, I am.” Jason dropped his hand to see her costume and nodded while saying,

  

“Well, you look…” He searched for a word to say that wouldn’t directly give away his new affection for her before settling on, “…accurate.”

  

“Accurate?” Scarlet said with a laugh as she adjusted her boots and exited the room with Jason.

  

“Yeah, accurate. I mean, I never saw or read Watchmen but from the posters online…”

  

“You look great.” Scarlet said, cutting off Jason’s stuttering as she examined his Nite Owl costume.

  

“This old thing?” Jason asked, looking up and down his suit, “Found part of it in a trash can. It’s not the best or accurate but, you know.” As they spoke, John and Landon approached in their costumes causing Scarlet to burst into laughter.

  

“I couldn’t find that weird black thong Manhattan wears so this had to do.” John said as Jason raised his eyebrows while mouthing the word ‘bulge’ to Landon. The latter nodded before saying,

  

“I don’t think my voice is raspy enough for Rorschach.” Jason shrugged before asking,

  

“So…should we get this show on the road?” The group nodded as they all exited their hideout and joined a crowd of various boys and girls in different costumes.

  

“What is it with people dressing as supervillains?” Scarlet asked as they passed two children dressed as Sinestro and Captain Cold, “Doesn’t that put their egos into hyperdrive?”

  

“They’re a product as long as they’re out of the spotlight I guess,” Jason answered before stepping towards the first apartment and saying, “Trick or treat.” A man in a skeleton mask handed the group candy before Jason turned to Landon to ask, “How’s it going with the Sionis lead?”

  

“Alright,” Landon said as he made a ‘so-so’ gesture with his hand, “He’s just hired some kids called the Skull twins. Hear they’ll be pulling off a series of major heist in the next few months.”

  

“Any word on his connection with you-know-who?” Realizing Jason was referencing the Joker caused Landon’s heart to skip a beat in remembering exactly what the man meant to him.

  

“None. But Sionis is definitely hiding something. Something he knows about the clown.” Jason smiled,

  

“At least we have that.” All of a sudden, a figure leapt out from behind a row of bushes nearby, yelling,

  

“Boo!” Scarlet screamed, as she was the closest to the figure, prompting Jason to quickly retrieve his pistol and aim it at the new person’s head. It turned out they were just a kid in a costume, who immediately began to cry and run away as Jason lowered his weapon. In the rush of everything that had just happened, he had not noticed that his other hand had ended up wrapped in Scarlet’s, whose body was now pressed to his. Noticing this as well, she moved away slightly, but left her hand in Jason’s as John and Landon both whistled in between bouts of laughter. Jason and Scarlet continued to walk ahead of the group to the next apartment before the latter moved the former’s arm around her shoulder, bringing them close together again as they said,

  

“Happy Halloween Scarlet.”

  

“Happy Halloween Jason.”

 

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Sorry that took much longer than I had anticipated (as I wrapped the first part of the special yesterday my friends showed up at my house and we ended up out and about until about midnight so it took until now to upload the last two parts). That being said, this will be the last Red Hood released for a little while (at least until Chris' Batman and my Robin catch up) because all of our stories need to be at the same time as this new arc starts for fear of spoilers. In the meantime, the last issue in the first volume of my Robin reboot will end tomorrow most likely and the second issue (which will lead directly into the end of the year event) will begin some time this week. I hope you enjoyed this and had a Happy and spoopy Halloween, but either way thanks for reading!

Overhead shot showing the printed floor tiles from Citizen Brick.

 

Read the write-up on The Brothers Brick.

I hadn't lowered the resolution before recording the video for this, so the low framerate and stuttering caused some issues.

"The moth stutters,

stares, voracious,

knots staying,

cloud, cloud.

Silhouette

of the cold,

bat,

tides,

relamps

pride,

cricket, cricket.

Night

lightnings,

fireworks

in a jar,

floods

its river

with an iris."

 

© 1999, George Mario Angel Quintero

From: Tentenelaire

Publisher: Editorial Párpado, Medellín, 2006

  

© Translation: 1999, George Mario Angel Quintero

   

- Thank you everyone for comments and 2880 views :D

   

Stuttering - The Friday Night Boys ♫

Great Horned Owls are nocturnal. You may see them at dusk sitting on fence posts or tree limbs at the edges of open areas, or flying across roads or fields with stiff, deep beats of their rounded wings. Their call is a deep, stuttering series of four to five hoots.

journey through my unconscious, semi-conscious and consciousness

hidden world of underneath with a deep wave of unique despair

 

* GMC CCKW Maintenance/Recovery Truck

* GMC CCKW Dump Truck with M2A1 105mm Howitzer (latter reverse-engineered from Brickmania)

 

Read the write-up on The Brothers Brick.

Read the write-up on The Brothers Brick.

In case of technical problems (movies on flickr tend to stutter), just find a better copy at youtube.com - I'm dmaclego there as well.

 

About the mechanized Panther: it works but I would say the Tiger was a little better, for several reasons. First of all, front wheels drive may be a good idea in a real tank but not here. Secondly, front wheels in my Panther tend to slide, since they work outside of the tracks' grooves. The turret is another story - I had to restore the extra layer of plates, a sort of turntable, to reduce friction. The barrel, filled with metal axles, is quite heavy and only one stud connects the turret to the micromotor, so obviously it's not the toughest connection....

 

But still - as you can see, it works :) .

 

Edit: I have no idea why, but the movie was clipped by flickr. Youtube version is slightly longer.

 

Mixophyes australis

Watagan Mountains