Controversial Jack w/Voice!

Robin Williams died the other day. Which is tragic in a lot of ways, but in this case because he relates to one of my favorite protagonists by the name of Controversial Jack. I started writing about Jack and his escapades long ago when I was a middle schooler and a time passed evolved his character but one of the original people I based Jack on was one Robin Williams. Robin’s manic personality and gift that allowed him to showcase so much of his personality really stuck to me in every film I ever watched him in as a child. As I got older I never was quite as big of a fan of him as when I was a child, but still admired his talent and ability to touch the more poignant side of humanity. I really hope that one day I’m able to write something that has half as much of that poignant energy in it.

 

PLUG:

If you enjoy my work, you’ll definitely enjoy reading some writing from my big sis over at Nike Writes! 

Another great blog you should check out is Dani’s blog over here! I’m sure all you mom’s and what not that drop by will be curious about some of her future ventures! I’m sure she has a new blog popping up soon!

 

So, without further ado, here’s the audio and text from a little bit of Controversial Jack. Keep in mind that my audio recording and reading are still a work in progress, but any feedback on how I can improve and suggestions for new microphones will be appreciated. Thanks in advance for the feedback!

 

***

There’s a tale of the apocalypse that involves four horsemen. Stop me if you’ve heard this one. The great and terrible horsemen (or surfers, in various island cultures) charge across the face of the earth (which sometimes is flat) bringing fire and chaos (although sometimes they bring seas of blood) and generally making a large mess (which sometimes is larger). Their names are Famine, Pestilence, War, and Death. Unless Pestilence is replaced by Pollution or Plague, his younger and more ambitious brothers. Mind you, that’s only one example. There are also tales of the great Adversary, the son of Satan, That one’s rather popular. There’s also various theories of nature getting sick of matters and punishing that little bastard called Man that has poisoned its waters and lands. Then there’s popular idea that we’d just wipe each other out in a series of nuclear wars, or by listening to too much Hanson. Or in the worst case humanity simply gets some sort of disease and we fade away, not with a bang, but with a whimper. Nowhere in any popular view of the final days of mankind is there a man named Jack. Which is a shame, because it means they all got it wrong…..

 

In sunny California, beneath a bright yellow shining orb in the less tasteful spiral of the galaxy, you can find a large building with large amounts of food and a large sign marked ‘Price Club’. Sometimes people wheel barrel-sized containers of things like rice and gummy bears out. Inside, it’s kept quite clean, and is a very tidy and organized way to disperse food to people who would starve to death without it. It’s a pleasant shopping experience.

 

Today, you can spot empty peanut shells on the ground, and discarded wrappers. Toothpicks a plenty are also here and there, and the occasional empty cereal bowl. If you follow the trail, you can see how it meanders here and there, but mostly sticks to the tables set at the ends of each aisle.

 

The free sample tables.

 

“More,” the man demanded.

 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” the poor supermarket lady asked, trying to shield her free cheese samples away from the psychotic madman.

 

“This is AMERICA!” the man ranted. “It’s my God given right to have as much free cheese as I want! There are surplus warehouses right now devoted to nothing more than the storage of cheese. If that’s not a tried and true use of my tax dollars, I don’t know what is. And you say that I have had enough cheese? MY GOD IN HEAVEN, WOMAN! Nobody will have enough cheese until all those supplies are depleted! Then, maybe, we can rest well at night without tossing in our sleep from the SHEER GUILT!”

 

“B-but, this isn’t government cheese,” she whimpered in reply. “It’s supermarket cheese.”

 

“Details, details,” the man shrugged, getting casual for a moment. “Fork it over.”

 

Let’s pause a moment here and examine this person. It’s actually just an optical illusion that one of his eyes is bigger than the other. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, with that constant suspicious glare, or just the funny way his neck works after years of banging his head against walls. He’s lanky and lean, but lanky and lean in the way that lanky and lean guys who really whip ass in fighting games are lanky and lean; not that he’s probably any good in a fight, but few people really want to make sure. His hair, which was probably combed with brillo and dried under a blowlamp, sticks straight up and out on his head, a wild and untamed bush of corn straw. He’s usually smiling, but has mastered the art of differentiating between a polite smile, an amused smile, a I Know More Than You smile, and a grinning evil death smile. Overall, he resembles some twisted incarnation of Puck from a VERY off-Broadway production of “Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

 

His name is Jack Lysias, also known as Controversial Jack. And he wanted his cheese.

 

***

[The following is not included in the audio.]

“Mr. Duck thinks I should get more cheese,” Jack said, holding out a small rubber duck for the supermarket lady to examine. “Don’t you, Mr. Duck?”

 

The bath toy squeaked.

 

“…that’s just a toy,” the lady said despondently.

 

Jack pulled Mr. Duck back in horror while saying. “You’re hurting his feelings! There there, Mr. Duck, she’s just ignorant and doesn’t know any better… she doesn’t know the wondrous things you have to say–“

 

With a frightened gesture of defeat, the lady shoved the whole tray of cheese blobs on little sticks forward. “Here! Take as much as you want!”

After this declaration she promptly ran to the manager’s office, scribbled ‘I Quit’ on his desk blotter and ran for the horizon.

 

“Woohoo!” Jack cheered, dumping the whole tray into his giant, economy sized Price Club burlap sack. “Another fine haul. Well! Let’s see what other free things we can get!”

 

The next table was offering free long distance service.

 

“Why bother? All the people who live away from me probably don’t exist,” Jack rationalized.

 

The table after that had Cheesy Poofs, which Jack felt complimented his preprocessed cheese blobs quite well, and performed the patented ‘Look, a three headed monkey’ routine in order to distract the merchant, and swipe as many as he could.

 

The next table offered free blood tests.

 

Jack stuck his hand inside the medical cuff and yelped when the six inch needle jammed through his arm. When the results proclaimed him to be drug free he had to argue with the examiner performing the test a bit that No, the machine was not broken and Yes, he always acted like this.

 

Mr. Duck vouched for him.

 

Given how much protest Controversial Jack’s digestive system was issuing at his consuming approximately 546 free samples in a one hour period, his next stop was going to be the bathroom. Unfortunately, he happened to spot something interesting at the next booth. But history still had one more chance, as his sister wheeled into view, driving a large motorized shopping cart that made that annoying  ‘BEEP’ sound when you put it in reverse.

 

“Jack!”  Jack’s sister, Anne Lysias called out, waving to him from behind a small mountain of shopping bags. “I think I’ve got enough food to last us until the next millennium!”

 

“That’s only a year or two away, unless there’s a massive conspiracy of calendar makers,” Jack said.

 

Let’s get one thing absolutely straight here — Anne is not like Jack. Sure, they share similar DNA because of the unfortunate coincidence of having the same mother and father, but Anne is not insane. She’s actually quite a nice girl provided you don’t make her angry, and never hears rubber ducks talking to her except once or twice but she denies the experiences quite wholeheartedly. Plus, the phrase “I am my brother’s keeper” applies to her in the same way zoo wranglers say things like “I am the Bengali tiger’s keeper.”

 

“Hey, food for a year is still impressive!” Anne noted, hopping down from the vehicle and tucking her Price Club hard hat under one arm. “Besides, don’t you even THINK about complaining. I’m the one who’s paying for all this, you jobless bum!”

 

“I do too have a job!” Jack retorted indignantly.

 

“Oh? What?” Anne asked before realizing she shouldn’t have.

 

“I am me, of course,” Jack explained. “The very process of being who and what I am is a twenty four hour a day job. You don’t get a break from a responsibility that big, no paid vacation leave, no dental plan! You’re THERE, constantly, ready to be Jack at a moment’s notice! I don’t have time to go dilly dallying around in the so-called Job Market when the vast reservoirs of energy needed to Helllllll-o, what’s this?”

 

History gave a sad sigh of regret, as Jack’s attention finally was attracted back to the desk he almost missed. He seemed to teleport from where he was to in front of the desk with that smile on his face, not through some arcane power, but simply by moving very fast.

 

“What’s the free sample at this table for?” he asked curiously.

 

“Free political campaign television advertising,” the bored looking clerk explained. “Congress mandated that to keep the playing field equal for all political parties, vouchers could be secured for paid airtime for candidates to advertise. If–“

 

“Hmmm… lot of perks on that job, right?” Jack asked.

 

“What job, sir?” questioned the clerk.

 

“President!!!” Jack said, posing dramatically with one fist on his hip and a hand cupping his chin. “Why, if I was president, I’d have free run of the Oval Office… of Martha’s Vineyards… of that secret room BEHIND the Oval Office… of the War Room… just THINK–“

 

“Let’s not think, okay?” Anne requested. “We’ve got to get home before the frozen goods melt, and we don’t have time for one of your crazy schemes!”

 

“Anne! I’m shocked!” Jack said. “Here I uphold the proudest, greatest institution in these here United States–“

 

“We could always send you BACK to the institution,” Anne commented dryly.

 

“–and you dare, nay, DARE to consider it a ‘crazy scheme’?” Jack asked. “Forsooth, sister of mine! And bite me. I’m a-signing up!”

 

Anne sighed in defeat. “Be out by the car in five minutes or I’m leaving without you, Jack,” she warned. “And I MEAN it.”

 

With that, Anne hauled herself back into the forklift like contraption, and steered her groceries on out of there, making wide right turns. Jack rubbed his palms together with feverish glee. “Okay, pal, I’m sold. Where do I sign? Do I need to pay with my soul or anything?”

 

“What is your political party?” the clerk asked, clicking a cheap Bic retractable to start filling out little checkboxes of questionable origin.

 

“Probably wild and involving a lot of kegs.” Jack said quickly.

 

“Pardon?” said the obviously confused clerk.

 

“Just mark me down as controversial,” Jack said. “I’ve always said a good politician is an honest one. Well, no. Technically I’ve always said a good politician is one thrown into the bay with lead weights tied around its feet. But you get the gist of my scope of reasoning.”

Quick update and post

Hey everyone! Sorry I haven’t been around for a bt. Your pal Palazzo has been a bit swamped with real life of late and had his schedule really consumed. I’m pretty much behind when it comes to everything and the next few days I’m going to do be all I can to catch up o bear with me.

Before I get to my post, I just want to throw in a plug for another of my good friends. Tiffany Christina Lewis is a very talented author that I’ve had the pleasure of knowing for quite some time, if you all could do me a favor and check out her work I certainly would appreciate it!

inside out Cover

I mean sure, I played a hand in her first major book release “Inside Out” as an editor. But there’s more to here than that, she has a great heart and intense focus that won’t allow her to do anything but succeed. I hope you guys check her out!

Alright, here’s an excerpt from a story I’ve been working on of late. Hope you all enjoy, please don’t forget to leave a comment, oh! And check out the plug I have at the end of the post as well! ENJOY!

**********

Jameson, smiling slightly, held up the shirt he’d just spent the last hour sewing a yin-yang symbol onto. He’d done a rather good job, actually—the yin-yang was positioned perfectly in the shirt’s center, divided into two, each half fitting together perfectly to form the whole. He’d even positioned it, so the buttons were incorporated into the design as the balancing energies. And to finish it off, he’d marked it off from the rest from the rest of the shirt by a thin line of silver thread.

Well, thought Jameson, that’s four hours killed. Now I’ve got to worry about the slow destruction of the world’s protective barriers before an insidious onslaught of demonic invaders… He sighed. I think I’ll worry about my costume for a little while longer…

He put on the shirt, then snapped on the final touch—a harmless bit of vanity that he was already slightly ashamed of—a pair of circling serpent cufflinks he’d found in India and bought on impulse. He glanced into the mirror.

Jameson chuckled slightly. He actually looked—well, somewhat impressive. Now all he needed to add was…

He winced. The Cloak.

The idea had occurred to him on the trip back. Reading the newspapers, he’d noted that in the month or so he’d been gone, a great change had come over the world—it was beset by superheroes. It seemed nearly half the articles dealt with the doing of brave men and women who wore spandex without the least sense of shame or even regret. It had seemed obvious to him that posing as a superhero would be the best way to about his business in Tokyo.

Otherwise he was afraid he might be mistaken for a pimp wearing that damn Cloak of Levitation, something his sallow complexion and limited physique would only act to confirm. Jameson was not going to be booked on an ethics charge.

Not again.

No he was sure he’d seem fairly sedate by superhero standards. Well, reasonably sure. He thought anyway. He slipped on the Cloak.

Jameson sighed. Well, he had accomplished his goal. He no longer looked like a pimp.

He looked like a pimp who had recently converted to Taoism.

Jameson turned to his dresser. Fortunately he was prepared for this eventuality. He snapped on a domino mask, then glanced back at the mirror.

Now he looked like a Taoist pimp who was attending a costume ball.

Well, there was a last chance of avoiding recognition. He slipped the pantyhose over his head.

Now he looked like a Taoist pimp who was going to commit a mugging, on his way to a costume ball.

Jameson took both of his makeshift disguises off. It appeared that this was his—best option. He sighed. Well, if any of his classmates saw him, he’d just pretend not to know them. After all, what chance was there of them automatically recognizing a ghastly pale young man wearing a distinctive outfit?

Jameson groaned. Life really wasn’t fair, when you got down to it…

He took a deep breath, and turned to the Orb of Agomotto. He’d managed to set it up on his desk as a paperweight, telling his parents he’d gotten it as a memento in India. Now, the Ancient One had told him that it would help him locate threats to this world…but hadn’t actually mentioned how to use it.

Jameson stared at it, for a moment. Maybe—maybe if he thumped it a little… but no, it looked rather delicate. He placed his hand on top of it.

A brilliant light began to shine from the center of the Eye. Strange images flooded Jameson’s mind, which then began to crystallize with startling clarity.

Jameson stood there for a moment, silent. Finally, he uttered two words, quietly.

“Oh, crap…”

****

! I really hope you guys enjoyed this piece! While I have you here, I wanted to ask you guys to do me a huge favor and check out the music of someone I feel is very awesome.

Not only is she a talented artist who crafts words over her own production, she also happens to be an extremely intelligent woman I admire quite a great bit! Please go over and check out her music over at http://www.sammusmusic.com and cop her new album in the link below. It’s available at a very reasonable price and you’d definitely be supporting someone who is worth the time! Take care everyone and hopefully I’ll shoot you another update soon!

#AnotherM

My Fanhood

Hey everyone! Sorry about the late post here today but work was a bit more taxing than normal last night.

 

As I’ve foreshadowed recently on twitter and mentioned in the blog update earlier this week today’s blog post is about my fanhood. Before I get into that though, I just want to ask everyone reading this post to take the time to check out one of my blog subscribers Shoom Isaacs music based podcast and blog over here. She’s a very talented person who has a great ear for music and is doing some very refreshing things in today’s world of music that seems to be lacking the substance that our parent’s music once carried.

 

Where do I begin…

 

Me and Alabama head coach Nick Saban in statue form.

Me and Coach Saban

Well, you could say I was born into an Alabama family. With my dad being born and raised in Tuscaloosa, Alabama and my mom growing up a few miles outside of Tuscaloosa in Samantha, Al. You could almost say I was destined to be an Alabama fan. The truth though is, as a kid I wasn’t even too big of an Alabama football fan. Sure, I liked them and the colors were my favorite but as a youth I was more into basketball than anything. Basketball is and forever will be my first love and I never even considered the idea of playing football. LOL I could remember going to friends house and they’d play 7 on 7 and I’d sit off to the side to do “Commentary”. I honestly didn’t get too deeply invested into Alabama football or any college football at all until I was in middle school. At this time my dad used to tell me a bit more about his college years and would tell me of how he always dreamed of going to Alabama but because of tensions at the time he never was allowed the opportunity. At the time and even now I still didn’t really buy that from my dad, but what I did buy from that was my dad’s genuine admiration of another program I became a fan of…..

USC logo

Southern Cal

The way my dad’s voice and entire demeanor changed when he talked about USC shocked me. I mean, having grown up around my old man and seen his dismissive attitude toward everything college football related it had been years(1992) since I saw him have any sort of positive attitude about USC. So, every day on the way to school I’d ask him more about those times and learn about OJ Simpson, and how Southern Cal’s trouncing of Alabama basically did more for sports integration in the state than any piece of legislation could. Around that same time Pete Carroll began to revive the program and of course I became a fan! Talented players along with that “Cool” vibe that came from being in L.A.? USC was the business! hahaha. Though personally in retrospect now, I believe the only reason my dad was such a big fan of Southern Cal was due to his unhealthy love for the Los Angeles Lakers. ‘Course, this post isn’t about his fanhood. Now, while I’ve got you here there’ s one other sports program I’m an absolute fan of…

Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, and Dennis Rodman.

Jordan, Pippen, and Rodman unbelievaBULL.

The biggest thing I was a fan of as a child and even now at times is the Chicago Bulls. A lot of that has to do with my unhealthy admiration of Michael Jordan and his exploits of sports athletics and swagger. The rest had to do with seeing the passionate fanbase and the efforts their teams put forth no matter the talent level. No can ever convince me that there was a greater NBA team than the 96 Bulls squad that won 72 games. I mean, to this day I can remember the starting lineup music and every player on the roster from the Bill Wennington’s to the 10 day contracts of free agent guard Randy Brown. It was insane to see what that squad to do night in and night out on a basketball court because of how much pride they took in WINNING. Not only that, but they did in an era where the NBA still had some of it’s remaining grit from the 80’s.

 

Now, since I’ve listed my three fanhoods I’d like to point out a few peculiarities about myself in regard to being a fan of a sports team.

 

#1. I have never have and never will own a jersey with another athlete’s name on the back.

- I don’t know if it’s a mental thing because I played sports at a high level, or just some sort of inner narcissistic streak but I just can’t do it. Hahaha.

#2. Up until recently, I have never really owned a lot of my teams paraphernalia.

-As a kid I had maybe 1-2 shirts Bulls championship shirts and one or two Alabama windsuits haha. But other than that I never really owned any team gear outside of a team I played for. It wasn’t anything against or about me supporting my programs I just have never been too big on what type of clothes I wore and what not. As I’ve gotten older that’s changed considering the assortment of Alabama gear and Bulls attire I’ve accumulated. I still need to acquire some Trojans swag at some point though.

 

 

I think this sums up my fanhood, hope you guys enjoyed learning a bit more about me.  Before you guys go, if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favor and checking out a great source of information on Alabama Football over at The Houndztooth.com. They’re a great source for all things related to Alabama Athletics and will keep you up to date with the latest in college football recruiting, through their ensemble cast of awesome writers and good folks!

 

Here’s an update to the blog schedule:

 
07/26 – Original piece
07/28 – Original piece
07/30 – Music post.
08/01 – New Audio blog Controversial Jack!

Future blogging schedule, short excerpt, and idealistic thoughts!

Hey all, welcome back to An Insomniac’s Dreams!

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted so I’ve decided to make this update as action packed as I could. So, let me get started by posting the upcoming blogging schedule.

07/19 – Sports related blog.
07/20 – Something for my big sister’s birthday.
07/22 – MMP promotion
07/24 – Original piece
07/25 – Original piece
07/26 – Music post.
07/27 – Audio blog

So, that’s 1,2,3, – 7! Yes, SEVEN blog posts on the way in the near future! I’ve already gotten 3 of them prepared so I really look forward to seeing what you guys think of things.

Also, very recently I had a birthday. Birthday swag

Sure, I don’t look very enthused..but off of 3 hours of sleep eh, who could blame me? Had a pretty solid day on that evening with my sister’s taking me out to eat and another friend treating me to the movies. Weekend wasn’t what I expected but, I finally got to see Maleficent and make a trip to the arcade with one of my good buddies! I also obtained Mario Kart 8! so, a lot of Luigi DEATH STARE has been going on.

Before I get to the excerpt, I’d like to make a formal request of my readers and all future readers as I’ve had an ideal in my head for a while I’d like to share it with you folks. For the longest time I’ve always envisioned this blog becoming something more than a release for all my creative energy each time something in my life has frustrated me or dampened my spirits. Now that I’ve had it around for a bit longer and developed a bit more of an identity I’ve begun to expect more. I would really appreciate it you guys began to help me turn this little humble blog into a bustling community of writers, readers, and creative people in general. Now, I’m sure you’re wondering how you can help me build this community…well for starters you can help me out by being a bit more active in the comments. Share your thoughts with other readers and try to interact with them more when you agree or disagree with their thoughts. Make new friends and in a lot of cases follow their blogs as well. I’ve had lots of consistent commentary from several very talented and awesome folk. I’d love to see you guys support them as well so we can build a unique chain of give and take all the while developing something extraordinary and uplifting! So, if you agree with this chain of thought and want to help please help me out by following and adding these great folks to your blog read as well.

 

Sammus- Super dope music and updates on the career of one of my favorite artists.

 

Nike Writes- Introspective, timeless, and awe inspiring writing from one of my mentors. :)

 

Dyscyplnynary Action- Reviews of music, life, and general awesomeness.

 

Put a Wedge In It- Relationship coaching, writing, and introspective from another of my writing mentors.

Chanice Nykole- Another one of my talented friends. She offers meal plans, positive messages, and can SANG!

In The Mix With Shoom- Exclusive music, interviews, and material from talented podcast host Shoom Isaacs. Someone I’ve become a very big fan of lately.

The Superficial Queen- One of my favorite writers who’s work will always evoke some sort of emotion from you. Check her out!

 

The Houndztooth.com- Sports blog that covers one of the most rabid fanbases in all of sports.

New Mommy New Life Style- Blog home of a fairly new writer friend of mine who I think has the potential to really carve out a special place here in our world!

 

Eddie Lamar Sharpe Jr- Home to one of the writer’s I respect most on the web. Very introspective and very talented author on the rise.

 

Mocha Memoirs Press- Home to erotic fiction and some of the most talented writers I’ve ever interacted with!

It’s actually MMP’s birthday month, here are some unique details on what’s to come!SaleBanner2014

Mocha Memoirs Press began in 2001, but reopened our doors in July 2010 with the hope of spotlighting fantastic fiction in the genres of science fiction, horror, fantasy, and romance. Each year we do something fun for our birthday, and this year will be nodifferent.

Since we’re giving gifts, it’s Christmas in July! What’s in our holiday sack?

Gift #1-New fiction! Four new titles will launch our TOIL, TROUBLE, AND TEMPTATION line.

Gift #2- MMP GIFT bag. It will include the following:

  1. A sample of our books (both horror anthologies, a science fiction title, two erotic romance titles, and a fantasy title).
  2. A MMP tee-shirt.
  3. A MMP journal to write down your own inspiring ideas.
  4. Starbucks® coffee
  5. Other surprise goodies.
  6. All will be contained in a MMP cloth bag.

(You have to sign up for the MMP Newsletter to enter. More details to follow on our blog and our Facebook group).

Gift #3-Black Friday sale in the summer-All Christmas and holiday stories are .99!

Gift #4-Sizzling Deals for HOT summer nights-All erotic romance titles are $2.99 or LESS!

Gift #5-Select science fiction, fantasy, and horror titles are $1.00 or 0.99.

 

 

There’s a few more writer/blogger folk I’d like to promote, but this is all I could squeeze in for now. Now that I’ve got that out of the way, here’s an excerpt from a piece I’m currently revising and preparing to share with the world. I hope you all enjoy and PLEASE leave me some commentary after you finish reading!

 

**********************************************************

 

The Emissaries of Evil were busily explaining their employer’s insurance policy to a client.

 

Of course as the Emissaries of Evil were criminals, the insurance policy they were selling was far better than one you’d receive from a legitimate company. When a criminal sells you an insurance policy it is absolutely certain that the disaster he’s selling it for will occur if you don’t pay.

 

The Emissaries of Evil were stressing this point.

 

“You know,” said Ray, the group’s field leader, “Egghead doesn’t like to be let down…”

 

“I’m very sorry sir,” muttered the storekeeper.

 

“With the Emissaries of Evil, you don’t get sorry,” whispered Ken. “What you get is hospital bills if we don’t get paid.”

 

“Do you want a demonstration?” asked Bruce, the most violent of the four enforcers.

 

“Yeah, ’cause we can do that!” said Jim, his voice subtly muffled by his faceplate.

 

“See?” laughed Ray. A man did not become an enforcer at his young age without a damn terrifying laugh.

 

“The general opinion in this room is you should pay up…”

 

The shopkeeper was not a brave man, but he considered that a better option than being a brave corpse. He began to get them the money. That was when the whistling started. It was shrill, slightly off-key, and had a quality that caused your teeth to chatter in your skull. Ray glanced at the others. Criminals are, as a rule, rather uneasy at having a protection shakedown being observed, as witnesses rarely grasp the subtle nuances of the deal.

 

“Ken. Bruce. Go outside. See who it is.”

 

The pair nodded and headed out.

 

Jim glanced at Ray, clearly offended. “How come you always send them out first?”

 

Ray froze for a second. This would take some thought. “Because you’re the only one I trust to guard me.”

 

“Oh. Thanks, Ray!”

 

Ray breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Bruce returned. “Umm, guys—you should see this….” They followed him out.

 

There, on the side of a building, a young man in a red cape stood whistling.

 

This was far more disconcerting than it sounded, as he was quite literally standing on the side of the building, as if it were the ground, while gravity failed to have the least effect on him. The Emissaries stared at him awhile. Finally, Ray coughed. “Um—excuse me—what are you doing…?”

 

The young man turned to look at him. His face was astonishingly pale, and rather strikingly ugly. He shrugged with almost suspicious casualness. “I’m out for a walk.”

 

Ray glanced away. The longer you looked at the young man, the more you got the horrible feeling that you were the one in defiance of the laws of physics. “On the side of a building?” asked Ray forcefully. This resulted in another shrug. “It’s the only way to beat the smog, really.” The boy gave a mild laugh. “Can you believe they’re selling air now? I mean—air. Sad, isn’t it?”

 

Jim scratched his head—or tried to, the large metal helmet getting in the way. “Are you a superhero?”

 

The young man snapped his fingers in apparent frustration. “Damn. You had to ask that question.” He sighed. “Yes. Yes. I am.” And with that he leapt off from the wall, floating down with eerie grace. He glanced at the Emissaries confidently. “So I guess now comes the part with all the screaming, and the yelling, and the cries of mercy, and the passing out?” He looked around distractedly. “Could you promise not bleed on me too much? I’m finding the dry cleaning bills horrible.”

 

Ray stared at him. “Do you realize who we are, idiot?”

 

His opponent scratched his chin in thought. “An all-male Judy Garland impersonation group that’s turned to evil?”

 

Ray frowned. “No!”

 

“Oh,” said the superhero in resignation. “Liza impersonators, then?”

 

“NO!” shouted Ray, offended.

 

Now he seemed puzzled. “Don’t tell me you’re not all male?”

 

It was at that point that Bruce lost his temper. “We are the Emissaries of Evil, you fool!”

 

“Gosh,” laughed the hero bashfully. “That was going to be my next guess! Boy, I’m bad at these things…”

 

“Shut up!” shouted Bruce. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with! Well, we will tell you!”

 

The young man nodded. “Right, right. And then we’ll get on to the part with all the screaming, and the yelling, and the cries of mercy, and the passing out…”

 

Bruce raised his hands, revealing gauntlets with buzzsaws built into them. “I am the Gladiator! Master warrior, and assassin!”

 

“Because power tools just scream ancient Roman ritual warrior…” muttered the young man.

 

“Quiet!” screamed Bruce.

 

Ken threw off his cloak, and flexed his muscles, revealing the greyish bodysuit underneath it. “And I am— Rhino! I have the strength and the charging power—of a rhino!”

 

Ray summoned a solar flare at the tips of his fingertips. “I am their leader, Solarr—the solar-powered man!”

 

Jim stepped forward, and started up his suit’s power cells. An eerie blue glow covered him. “And I am Cobalt Man. The—well, cobalt powered man…”

 

The man nodded. “Took you a while to come up with those names, didn’t it? I bet you strained your minds and stayed up the entire night, trying to think of something that conveyed the awesome spectacle of might that is you…”

 

Ray snarled. “Listen you—laugh all you want…you’re outnumbered four to one!”

 

The young man smiled slightly. “But don’t you want to know who I am…?” He spread his hands, and waved them menacingly. “I am… DR. STRANGE!” There was a peal of thunder, which was quite unusual when you considered that there were no clouds out at the moment. “Master of the Five Elements! Wielder of mystic forces beyond the mortal ken! Guy who can talk in a really florid manner, and use lots of adjectives!” Dr. Strange stared at them forcefully. “Can you say these things as well? Can you even understand them?” He smiled. “Please respond. We’d be delighted to hear from you.”

 

****************

 

So, what’d you guys think? I know it’s a bit unpolished but, this is just a small segment of what I’m working on. Leave comments below and thanks all!

Wrote a bit recently, thought I should share!

Hey guys! Been a while since I updated sooooo here you go! here’s an excerpt from my continuing story Unreal Estate hope you folks enjoy!

***********

‘Tidying up’ was too cutesy of a word for it. Mallory was a lean, mean cleaning machine. Whatever machismo he could gather unto himself he did, eliminating dust and dirt like a focused filth assassin. He was the Zen master of tidying up—a familiar and comfortable state of daily routine.

He ran the dust-sweeper around the corner of the coffee table, eliminating a dustball kicked up by Eiko’s playing—Most Terrible Lizard King™ was doing battle with Peacemaker Pretty Soldier Biiko™ in her lovely pink camouflage with matching pink non-violent stun weapons, and so far the only casualty was the carpeting.

He scooped up the end result of the horrors of plastic war, then rounded the next corner, asking Lorelei to put her legs up—she promptly put them behind her head, which made him do a bit of a double take, but then it was back to the Zen cleansing routine.

Kisei smoothly shifted her legs onto the L-bend in the couch before Mallory even got there, opting for the more sensible route of simply relocating them while giving Lorelei her usual look of mild disdain. As usual, Lorelei bit back with a sarcastic comment which Kisei ignored, as she resumed writing in her journal.

The carpets finished, it was time to break out the feather duster. He ran it over the various framed pictures of Eiko and Meiko from their earlier days, and took special care to clean the one recent group photo they had taken during the Nippon stopover; the only picture of Mallory in the House, and most importantly, the only picture where Mallory and Meiko were together…

On a whim, he walked over to the RealNet Workstation where Meiko was browsing job listings, and dusted her a bit. She flinched and then sneezed when he flicked the duster over her face… and they both shared a laugh, a wonderfully silly and heartfelt laugh.

Just one perfect moment in time, one which Mallory never wanted to end. If he spent the rest of his days like this, with all of them, he’d be the happiest man in the multiverse…

In order to maintain that happiness, he tried his best to ignore the ghost. Dusting Meiko’s Workstation screen a bit, he moved on to dusting the engine in the alcove behind her. Then he’d have to head to the kitchen and clean up Meiko’s last attempt at proving her worth in the field of cooking, and he could move on to the laundry…

The ghost stood in his way. His expression hadn’t changed since he got there—one of anticipation, of prompting. Prompting Mallory to take some sort of action…

“Leave me alone,” Mallory said, pushing past him. “I’m happy. Just leave me alone… I couldn’t do anything even if I wanted to. Not against him—”

Him. The memory alone broke his trance, and broke his wonderful moment.

Because immediately, he was there. And he didn’t wait, he didn’t pause, just as before—he simply burned it. All of it. In one horrifying moment everybody he knew and loved was gone in a flash of purple fire. All that remained was himself and himself and himself. Mallory and Mallory and Mallory, Mallory and the ghost M and the killer Multi…

Multi, who was wearing a sweatshirt much like Mallory’s, except with the black and the white of its yin-yang reversed.

Mallory awoke in an instant. It was better to wake an hour ahead of schedule than to have nightmare after nightmare.

Short action scene from an upcoming story

Hope you all enjoy this bit. Wrote it out last night after I finished doing a bit of reading.

 

*****

 

“Akiko the Empty, I presume?” Richmond Gray asked of what appeared to be thin air.

“That is correct, Silent Knife,” the thin air replied. “How did you know I was here?”

Gray laughed slightly. “Why, I would have to be blind to miss a woman of your beauty.”

“You have nowhere to run to this time, Knife. No girders to hide behind, no corners to run to. Just a big empty stone room.”

“Ah, you forget the rubble and bodies behind me. Mostly my allies’ work, of course, so messy. But effective nonetheless.”

“You have nowhere to hide, nowhere to run,” taunted Akiko. “I can see everything you do, but you can’t see me. You will die.”

“Of course I will die,” said Gray cheerfully. “Everyone dies. However, it still remains in question if you will be the one to kill me.”

“Then let us answer it,” said Akiko as she launched a flight of her tiny needles.

Needles that the Silent Knife effortlessly sidestepped.

“Impressive,” said Akiko as she moved stealthily to a new location, the voice software on her suit echoing it so as to make it seem like she hadn’t moved at all. “But can you do it again?” Another volley, and another effortless sidestep.

“You shouldn’t rush so much,” suggested Gray. “This is only our second date, after all. I’m sure you can do better than that.”

Akiko mentally cursed and moved. Perhaps the voice software was defective? Or maybe he was just good enough to hear through it. Whatever the case, he wouldn’t be so lucky next time. Aiming perfect for his lower back, she shot-

-and he dodged again, a single quick movement that left his coat hanging in the breeze, so fast you couldn’t even see him move.

Akiko fired again and again quickly, but with no more effect than the first time. Snarling, she began moving as rapidly as she could while remaining stealthy, firing at uneven intervals. Left, right, even up onto the walls and ceiling, it didn’t seem to make any difference. Every shot was precisely dodged with seemingly no effort at all.

Richmond Gray turned to face her, to face the invisible her that he should be able to see, and he said, “Do you want to know how I can do that?”

Mentally, she screamed YES, but her pride and honor would not allow her to beg out loud. Instead, she moved slowly, as quietly as she could, to the left.

Gray’s eyes followed her. She froze, and so did his eyes.

“The thing most people don’t realize,” he said cheerfully, “is that every weapon has strengths and weaknesses. There is no such thing as a perfect weapon. Take your needles, for instance. They are weaker and slower than bullets, but also smaller and without the flash and bang of guns. A good weapon for someone like yourself who hides in the shadows as an invisible presence. Better to give up power and speed to maximize your invisibility. However, this choice creates new weaknesses even as it gives you strengths. In this case, the slow speed of the needles gives me time to dodge after I hear them being fired.”

“But how do you know where the needles are coming from?” Akiko nearly screamed. “How can you tell where I am?”

The Silent Knife began to walk slowly forward, straight at Akiko’s fearful form. “The weakness of your suit,” he said happily, “is sound. I couldn’t take advantage of it at the club with all the terribly loud music, but in this place it is simple to hear your footsteps and keep track of your location.”

“Th-that’s impossible! My stealth is perfect! It’s impossible for you to hear me!”

“My dear, you are wearing a suit of metal mesh and walking on stone. You are very quiet, but far from total silence. You provide just enough sound for me to locate you.”

“How can you hear me when I can’t even hear myself?” asked Akiko as she desperately raised her arm and shot a last volley of needles at the slowly approaching figure. He dodged aside and rushed forward the last few feet, twirling his knife to cut through Akiko’s crossbow and press against her invisible throat in one fluid motion.

My Writing Process:

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What are you currently writing?

I haven’t gotten much time to write as I usually like between my job and this school semester rapidly coming to an end. But, when I’m afforded the time to write I’ve been working on three very different stories. Yet another rewrite for Magical Girl Hunters, making some edits for consistency with Unreal Estate, and an untitled mob/mafia action story.

What makes your work different?

I think my work is different because I do my best to incorporate different elements that have entered my interests or life and try to turn them into something everyone can relate to. With Magical Girl Hunters it’s my take on several different anime with a hint of Tarantino-esque and Noir. With Unreal Estate it’s that classic Rom-com that everyone loves to take their date too minus the clichés. The manner in which I present these different mediums and my ability to make them appealing to all readers is what I feel makes my work different.

Why do you write what you do?

I write what I do most of the time as a coping mechanism. I’ve dealt with some pretty nasty and unfortunate circumstances in my life so I use my writing in order to escape from all the negativity that tries to dominate me. It’s actually pretty funny, when I’m pretty content or in decent spirits I won’t write much of anything at all and I tend to get really lazy about it. If I’m angry, depressed, or oozing negativity from my pores then I can rattle off 10,000 words of texts in a few hours if I’m left to my own devices.

What is your writing process?

When I first began writing, I used to do the online roleplaying thing. Via e-wrestling and chat rooms when I was in middle school. E-wrestling roleplaying used to consist of writing promos or vignettes for characters and addressing your opponent and developing an ongoing story a your opponents wrote their own vignettes in response. As a former athlete I’ve always been real competitive, so back then I used to spend hours on end writing, working, and tweaking these vignettes to make them look like some of the text I’d read in books. Back then I was reading a lot of different types of literature but most of it consisted of traditional pieces like Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, and The crucible. But outside of school I was diving into graphic novels from Marvel and DC with a lot of Japanese anime starting to pepper my interests. All of these influence led to me developing different concepts a certain way which has continued on to this day.

 

Step 1: Imagine a setting. In a lot of cases I’d do this by going out at night to a park or something. Or just when I rode in the car with my dad somewhere imagining an area and writing down everything I could think of about it. From how it felt, the colors, what type of bugs were around, etc.

Step 2: Develop a character. This is something I’ve never had issue with as each time I’ve ever written someone they’ve always been based off of someone in my life. When I first came up with the idea for Controversial Jack for example I’d been reading up on a lot of characters like Xelloss from the Anime Slayers and Loki from Marvel. Once I developed that main character the next step would be pretty easy….

Step 3: Give that character a supporting cast and goals. This has always been easy for me. I consider myself pretty good at this due to a lot of my influences. I’ve actually got a word document on my computer full of different characters that I will sort through and pull from whenever necessary in order to best align them with my protagonist/antagonist.

Step 4: Develop the scenery. Basically figure out where I want the story to take place and what type of time frame the story will take place in.

Step 5: Write. The easiest part of the process.

 

Eh, I think that sums it all up. For now, let’s consider this “Draft 1″ for now lol. The next person in this blog tour will be http://thequeenofthesuperficial.wordpress.com/ I’m sure her writing process will be infinitely more interesting than my own. Hope you folks enjoy!

tribeonewon

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