First Night on the Town part 2

About a minute later, I’m perched on a chimney overlooking the alley where the scream came from. I’m too far up to make out much, but I could see it was two guys standing beside a white van and a third bigger man tossing the kid inside. I was also able to catch the last of the argument that the first two was having.

The first guy, standing the furthest from the van, “I still don’t like it. He’s not telling us why he needs these people.”

The second guy, leaning against the van, “Relax. We’re getting paid well for this gig. Just shut up, do as you’re told, or you’ll blow it for the rest of us.”

“I don’t care about getting paid. I just want---.” I had wanted to hear the rest of the sentence, but thought it would be better to help the kid first. Tuning them out I focus on what I’m about to do. Moving the shield from my back onto my right arm and creep onto the ledge. I’m going to take out the big guy, if I’’ have any chance at rescuing the kid. Taking a deep breath I dive off, holding the shield in front of me and bracing my right arm with my left. This is going to hurt. A LOT.

Picture of The Victor

There was no good reason why I didn't update the story last week, but I do plan to update later today. Until then here's a sketch from Stephen Legend from Duck Duck's The Urban Legends and his take on The Victor.

Second Tower Thursday

The Victor Statue: A life size bust of The Victor located near a playground in Central Park. It shows him protecting a small group of kids from the Emerald Elf. Under the bust is the inscription "A Hero to his last breath"

Fourth Temporal Tuesday

A scene from later this year.
Set in the room of a hospital.We see Virgil is sitting in a wheelchair beside the bed of a woman in her thirties. Virgil is yelling at the woman, "Was that [removed to avoid spoilers]? Was that my father?!"

Fourth Most Wanted Monday

Here's a little info on the man who killed The Victor, Gunner. He's now serving a lifetime sentence in Cheant (The Can) Prison for said murder and the known deaths of at least 132 other contract kills.

Real name: Will Tell
Age: 50
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Marital status: Widower
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 225 lbs
Known accomplices: Emerald Elf (chief employer)
Occupation: Hitman
Abilities: Master Marksman
Group affiliations: The Emerald Empire and the Spoiled Warriors(both formally)

Golden Age Sunday: Riding Sidecar Part 3

Riding Sidecar
Part III

After ten minutes without a trace of the Wild Pack, The Victor parked the bike onto the top of a hill, leaned back, and just listened to the park sounds. His grin seemed unaffected from the lack of progress. It’s almost like he was enjoying the chase.

After a minute of listening to the park animals, I decided to speak up, “How can three animal people just disappear?”

The Victor glanced over at me with a toothy grin, “You really can’t stop asking questions can you?”

Before I could say anything, he continued with a laugh, “I don’t mind, the reason we can’t find them is that they know the land. This is their home. We could be here of weeks and never find them. So we had to let them find us. Isn’t that right, Dyer?”

Dyer? Turning to look in the tree that The Victor had addressed that last line to, I saw a four-foot birdlike woman covered in brown feathers and wearing a backpack. She had been standing on a branch listening to us, until The Victor pointed her out. Jumping out of the tree, she screeched a reply, “Nice trick, scaring away my birds to bring me out. But you wouldn’t bag this bird.”

Kicking starting the bike, we sped after her. After a second, I realized what she was talking about. The bike sounded a lot quieter than it had ten minutes ago. It must have a stealth mode. And The Victor hadn’t been looking for the Wild Pack, he had been making has much noise as he could.

Turning to ask why he couldn’t tell me his plan, he beat me to it; “I needed you to act natural so they won’t catch on.”

After pushing a couple of buttons on the dashboard, he jumped onto the seat and said, “Take the wheel, I’ll get Dyer.”

“Take the what??!” Trembling I reach for the handles only to notice that a set had appeared from the inside of the sidecar. Grabbing them I start to wonder what other tricks the motorcycle had. I would love to see them, if I live that long.

Trying to steer, I was barely about to stop us from slamming into a tree. From beside me, “Keep her steady. It’s just like riding a bike.”

Missing another tree, I shouted back, “Easy for you to say, why can’t you steer?”

“I needed to get the rope from my saddle. Surf’s up.”

“What?!!” Glancing over to see what he was doing, I was surprised to see that he was standing on the seat like a surfboard with a coil of rope across his chest. His grin had grown even bigger. That showed me to laugh at The Co-Champion. I just wished I know how to drive.

Almost getting the motorcycle under control and missing another tree, I hear The Victor shouting “Gotcha!!!”

Looking up I saw that he had lassoed Dyer and was trying to reel her in when he shouted, “Tree!!!”

Turning back to the front, I saw a massive tree in front of us. I couldn’t steer around it and was getting ready for the crash when I heard The Victor say, “Guess its time to test the ejector.”

“The what?” Just when I was getting used to one special feature I was going to learn of another. Something sounding like a high pressed hose kicked on and shot the sidecar and me deeper into the woods.

From inside my helmet I heard The Victor say, “Keep your eyes open for the monkey.”

“What”

“Dorkin, he’s a monkey.”

Now I wished he was giving me more information. How can I find a monkey in the middle of Central Park?

First Titan Thursday

Professor Nice: A student of the occult, he was a member of The New York Patrol.

Real name: Conan Smith
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 197 lbs
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blond
Occupation: College Student
Abilities: Skilled in the occult. Able to project lighting from his hands. Emits a feeling of well being in those around him.
Group affiliations: The New York Patrol (formally)

Third Wordy Wednesday

Absorber: A superhuman that has the power to soak up one or multiple types of substances.

Third Temporal Tuesday

Okay for this Temporal Tuesday I wanted to do something different. Instead of giving you a random glimpse into the future, today's will focus on PC's past.

The Patrimony Universe was a lot like ours but split during World War Two. There was a soldier from the UK that almost every tactical win could be traced back to. He was able to plan for anything and anyone down to the second and would never let an enemy survive to learn from their mistakes. But after the war, because of his viciousness and his ego, his superiors give the credit to others and destroyed any prove of his time in service.

Bitter, he turned to crime. Because of his precision and the large pocket watch he carried, the press dubbed him Father Crime. Flattered, he took the name and started to wear a custom tux covered with clocks. He went on to terrorize London for three decades uncaught before disappearing without a trace. But during those decades any criminal worth their salt either worked for or died trying to replace him. Historians would later look back and mark Father Crime as the first supervillain and the first costumed person. The world was never the same.

Third Most Wanted Monday

You met his brothers, Bear and Davy-san, now its time to meet Sydney.

Sydney: The thinker and heart of the Hired Guns, he works with his brothers for reasons known only to himself.

Real name: Sydney Tones
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Martial status: Widower
Height: 5'10"
Weight: 180 lbs
Known accomplices: His brothers Bartholomew(Bear) and David(Davy-san)
Occupation: Muscle-for-hire/former history teacher
Abilities: Whip mastery and master planner/tactician
Group affiliations: Hired Guns, Sons of Crime(formally)

Golden Age Sunday: Riding Sidecar Part 2

Riding Sidecar
Part II

On Saturday I was so excited that I showed up an hour early. I hid on top of a tiny garage and waited. I do admit that I was also hoping to catch The Victor off guard and learn his identity. After all, fair is fair. It might have worked if the guy working in the garage I was on was making too much noise. I ended up the hour waving to passing pedestrians and missed The Victor showing up or so I thought.

At 10 am, the garage opened up and The Victor wheeled out his motorcycle. I noticed that he had added a yellow sidecar to it. Without even looking up at me, he said, “Okay let’s try her out.” I guess I really do need to work on my stealth.

I tried to hide my surprise, “Wait, you were the guy making all the racket?”

Gesturing at the sidecar like he was showing off a new car, “Just putting the finishing touches on The Crimson Sentinel’s new feature, The Co-Champion.”

Flipping off the garage, I landed just in front of the motorcycle. I gave The Co-Champion a quick unimpressed glance, and turned to The Victor, “A sidecar? Is that my big surprise?”

Getting on his bike, The Victor again gestured at the sidecar, “It’s more than just a sidecar. Hop in and I’ll show you. Your helmet is in the seat.”

Climbing in, I looked at my helmet. It was golden with a face of a squirrel on the visor. The helmet was polished and the paint had just dried. The detail was amazing, if I didn’t know better I would say The Victor had spend as much time on this that he had on The Co-Champion.

I put the helmet on and I looked up at The Victor; he had just put his helmet, it was crimson with a clear capital V on the visor. He was also wearing his trademark grin. Why did he do this? Not just the teamup, but also the whole hero thing.

Before I could continue with my thoughts, they were shattered by a booming voice in my helmet. “Attention all units, the Wild Pack are robbing the Tenth Ave Pantry.”

The Victor kick started the bike and pulled out onto the street. Trying to find something to hold onto as The Victor made a hard right, I asked, “Okay, what was that? And who are the Wild Pack?”

Giving a slight giggle The Victor answered, “More questions, I see. Well the first one is simple, just the police band, the helmets are designed to pickup any call for backup in a twenty block radius. As for the second, it’s kind of complicated. It’s less of who and more of what. The Wild Pack is a group of animal enthusiasts that have spliced their DNA with that a various animals. They are distrustful of anyone that isn’t part of their group, but they normally don’t venture out of their hideout unless they’re short on supplies. Stay out of their way and they usually stay out of yours.”

After that The Victor went quiet and focused on ducking in and out of traffic. I didn’t mind because I wanted to think over what he said. He seemed big on the exposition giving. Not that I minded, my dad once spent an hour explaining the history of New York Library. I remember Blue Be Dad talking about the Wild Pack before, but only to say that he didn’t want to face them alone.

About two minutes later, we pulled in front of Tenth Street Pantry and parked. The entrance was caved in, like someone had driven a car through it. Police were trying to keep away the crowd of onlookers, but turned to look at us. I suddenly felt exposed. I looked at The Victor to see what to do. He just waved at the crowd then folded his arms and lazily leaned back on his seat. I quickly tried to do the same, but the crowd just ignored me and just stared at The Cheerful Champion.

After a minute, a young officer in his early twenties walked over to us. The Victor sat up, looked straight at him, and said, “Rogers, right? Mind giving me the rundown on what happened?”

The officer to a formal stance and rattled off an answer, “Yes, Sir! Three members of the Wild Pack smashed though the front and took off with over $5,000 in food!”

The Victor laughingly said, “At ease, soldier. Did the Mr. Felder see which members it was? Or the direction they went?”

Rogers relaxed, a little, and said, “He said it was Dyer, Dorkin, and Geda. They went east towards Central Park.”

Kick starting the bike, The Victor said, “Very good. Thanks for the assist Rogers; I’ll make sure Officer Huntre hears about it. Let the officers in pursuit know to back off, don’t try to follow them into the park.”

As The Victor pull The Crimson Sentinel out of the parking lot, my mind went over the crowd and what the officer said. They had acted better in front of The Victor than I did. The crowd had been in awe and the officer had acted like The Victor was a superior officer. I know that the Hero Law gave us some freedom, but that was different. The Victor acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but knowing the names of both the owner and a random officer just show that to him it is. I don’t know who Officer Huntre was, but if The Victor wanted me to he would tell me, in great detail.

Turning my thoughts to the Wild Pack, I realized that they must rob this place a lot if the owner knows them by sight. What could they have used on the door? Rogers said the front door was smashed but there wasn’t any tire tracks on the ground. The Victor said they spliced their DNA with animals, but what animal could smash a steel door?

The Victor broke into my thoughts with a shout, “Why couldn’t they have listened?”

Looking up ahead us, I saw two demolished cop cars torn across the entrance of Central Park. A couple of officers were hanging from a few trees, battered but alive. Feeling like I might regret it, I asked, “Whoa, what happened.”

The Victor hopped off the bike and walked over to check on the cops, “Geda. Or as he likes to call himself, Lox.” After getting the cops onto the ground and giving them an all clear, he got back onto The Crimson Sentinel, and headed into the park. I didn’t know that The Victor had medical training. Maybe a hint to his secret identity.

As we rode into the park, I got a sudden chill. I hadn’t thought that that the Wild Pack would be easy to take down, but now I wasn’t sure if they could be.

First Night on the Town

It's late, so this is what I have so far.

First Night on the Town

The echo of my scream greets me as I swing my legs off the hammock. I listen for any reaction to my waking. No just the regular sounds. Mr. & Mrs. Mowrey in 6I is arguing about his cheating. He’s not; he just doesn’t want her to know that he’s addicted to the retro arcade shop that just opened up down the street. Paige Paige, yes that’s her real name, was taking care of her little bundle of screams down stairs. I hope I’m not the reason for the midnight singing. The city is giving the normal performance of sirens, combating music, and colorful language. I was awakened by the nightmare. By that memory.

Before I can let my thoughts continue I realize my hands are cramping and my lungs are burning. Releasing my breath and my grip, I land on the ground with a silent thud. Glancing over to the couch, I breathe a sigh of relief that Mom took Henri for the weekend. Last thing I need is to keep him up with my nightmares.

I walk over to the dresser and look up at the picture of the three of us at The Victorious Hero, right after I got back of New Orleans. No more putting it off. I shove the dresser towards the door, hoping this will work. Otherwise I will get a reaction from the neighbors.

The wheels I added move the dresser smoothly until the rope stops it just short of the door. I check to see if the rope can take the strain again. Good, it can. I lean to check to see if the freed floor safe has been tampered with.

Satisfied I stand up and reach under the picture for the key, my eye catching the small print on the bottom, ‘Familia Primus’. I nod inward to myself and repeat the promise to myself. Always family first, nothing else matters.

I crouch over the safe, inserting the key and placing my thumb on the handle’s scanner in one fluid motion. After turning the key and typing in the seven-digit code, I open the safe and look at the third and forth most important things in my life, my uniform and the journals. Which story will Henri want to hear when he comes back? The Thief Wars? Or maybe Coming Home? After pulling out the uniform I quickly close and lock the safe.

I stare at the bundle for a minute, not believing what I am about to do. The shirt is dark blue and has a giant dove on the chest, the wings reaching into the back in almost a hugging gesture, the wing tips almost touching. That wasn’t in my design, maybe its Dad attempt to be close to me. Shaking off the thoughts of family, I quickly get dressed.

I walk back to the picture and flip it over, revealing the mirror on the back. I look confused at my reflection. I stand wearing the uniform with dark blue gloves and boots, my dark hair flowing over my shoulders. What, why can I see my hair?

Then it hits me. You forget the mask, Virgil. I quickly take the shirt off, put my hair in a ponytail, and tape it between my shoulder blades. Can’t believe I forgot the mask. Bet The Victor never would have.

After making sure I have enough give so I don’t yank out hair, I put on the mask. Its reflective eyes and dark blue skin greet me as I look in the mirror. I muse over my mistake as I put the shield on to my arm. How can I be a symbol of peace and justice, if I’m making mistake before I’m even out on patrol.

I look down at the blue round shield, the bird in the center matches the one on my chest. Running my hand over the rim I look over at my desk and again nod to myself. Guess I’ll have to believe in what Teach taught me: ‘Bluff, luck, and raw talent when you have it.’

It’s time I stop stalling and make my move. I look over my apartment one last time. Hopefully I’ll be back. I walk to the door and start to run towards the side window, sliding the shield onto my back. I dive out the window barely slipping past as I aim for the rooftop below. Watch out New York, here I come.

Running across the rooftops, I test the flexibility of the uniform, leapfrogging over chimneys, flipping through clotheslines, and generally having fun, I should have done this much sooner. Landing on the nearest chimney, I look over the city. So where to start?

From somewhere nearby I hear, “Get away from me! Help!!! So---” Gotta love this city. Time to be a hero.

I head towards where I think the cry came from, listening for anything that will tell me if I’m right. Nothing. The cry belongs to a kid, can’t be any older than ten. Thick Brooklyn accent, what he doing in HK? Guess I’ll have to ask him.

First Title Thursday

Back2Back: A teamup book like DC's Brave and the Bold and Marvel's Marvel Team-up. The name comes from the fighting style most two man teams perform, fighting herds of bad guys with their backs together.

Second Wordy Wednesday

3T Rooms: Rooms that the W.H.O. use for training and recreation.

Second Temporal Tuesday

Future Storyline:

Comic: Earth: Threshold for E.T. and other Aliens
Summary: The Van Decan invade Earth, and the only hope for survival maybe the new mystery man guarding the heroes.
Year: Two

Second Most Wanted Monday

You met Bear last week. Time to meet his brother Davy-san.

Davy-san: The violent leader of the Hired Guns, he sells his karate expertise and his brothers' skills to anyone willing to pay.

Real name: David Tones
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Martial status: Single
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 170 lbs
Known accomplices: His brothers Bartholomew(Bear) and Sydney
Occupation: Muscle-for-hire
Abilities: Karate Master with near borderline superhuman reflexes
Group affiliations: Hired Guns, Sons of Crime(formally)

Golden Age Sunday: Riding Sidecar Part 1

Okay, here it is. The first Golden Age story. This follows Yellow Tail during her first teamup with The Victor.

Riding Sidecar
Part I

I sat on the edge of one of my favorite rooftops watched the sunset as I toyed with my whip. Dad was out of town doing work for Stile, and all my enemies were in jail. After patrolling for an hour after school, I had only found a purse-snatcher, and he handed it back as soon as he saw me. Bored without a case, I was planning to head back home when I saw him, The Victor.

He was dressed in a crimson bodysuit and half mask, and even though his back was to me chances were that he was also wearing his trademark grin. He was climbing a tree reaching for something. I didn’t know what until I heard him speak, his deep but gentle voice floated up to me, “Don’t worry Molly, I’ll get Cuddles.” He really does get cats out of trees.

I was trying to figure out who Molly was, when I saw the little girl. It wasn’t surprising that I had missed her. The angle from the roof had given me a good view of the street, but the girl was tiny enough to blend into the base of the tree until I looked for her. She was only five maybe six wearing a pink dress.

I ran down a few rooftops and swung across the street. I then ran up the rooftops until I was standing on what I guessed to Molly’s apartment building, all that took me less than a minute. If you’re wondering why I sneaked up on The Victor instead of just letting him know I was there, the answer was simple. The Victor is a legend, and I wanted to know if what I had heard was true or just stories and I could only do that with him unaware that I was there.

In the time I had gotten onto the roof, The Victor had climbed down the tree and handed her a large black ball of fur that could only be Cuddles. The Victor was now leaning on the tree talking to Molly. “Now Molly, I know you love to play with Cuddles, but you can’t do it outside.”

Molly had been hugging Cuddles, but had stopped when The Victor had started talking. Shaking her head, she said, “But he likes the outside.”

The Victor stepped away from tree now, “Molly, you know that’s not true. Every time you let him out he runs straight up that tree and won’t come down. The city scares him, so unless you want to his fur to turn white, you have to keep him inside. Now promise me Molly, that I’m not going to have to get him again.”

Molly sadly nodded and said, “Okay, I promise.”

The Victor produced a lollipop out of nowhere. His sleight of hand is impressive. “Good girl, here’s a lollipop. Now get inside, it’s getting dark.”

Molly again nodded and started to head inside. So he is good with kids too, I thought.

The Victor got onto his crimson motorcycle, The Crimson Sentinel I think, and was waved goodbye at Molly. I pulled my whip out, from the corner of my eye, I could see Molly waving goodbye as I swung after The Victor. I thought if I followed him something was bound to happen.

As I swung into a dead end alleyway I realize just one problem with this. I had forgotten whom I was following. Looking around the alley for someway that he could have given me the slip, I heard a voice from behind me say, “You may want to work on your stealth.”

I turned around to see The Victor leaning back on his bike with his arms crossed a smile on his face, “How can I help, Miss Tail?”

I tried to stutter a reply, “I… I… I…” Okay, so I was a little star struck. I lied a little when I said my reason for sneaking around was to see if he was what he pretended to be. I did want to see if the stories were true, but this was also the first time I had came face to face with a hero this famous. I mean he’s even a celebrity in the masked community.

Without skipping a beat The Victor responded, “You… You… You don’t need to be nervous, Miss Tail. I don’t mean to sound rude, but I do need to be somewhere. Just give me the lowdown and I’ll help anyway I can.”

Suddenly I felt like I was in the principle’s office. Looking down and shuffling my feet I said, “I don’t have a case at the moment, but I thought if I followed you something was bound to happen.” I stopped looking at ground and stared straight at The Victor, “Please, can I tagalong?”

To my surprise The Victor tossed me a helmet and said, “Get on. We can talk about it on the way.” On the way to where, I thought as I got onto the back of the motorcycle.

I held on to The Victor for dear life, trying to stay calm as we rode down the streets. This was my first ride on a motorcycle. I was blushing, but only a little, I mean I was ridding on the back of The Crimson Sentinel, with The Victor. The Victor on the other hand was very relaxed and was talking like we were in his kitchen even as we dodged back and forth between traffic, “Like I said, I have to be somewhere tonight and tomorrow is a school day. So Saturday will have to do.”

Not knowing what was going on I decided to ask a few questions, “Do for what? Hey, how can we even hear each other? And where are we going?”

For a second I thought maybe I shouldn’t be bugging the guy keeping us from slamming into a truck, but The Victor just answered the questions as he took another turn and stopped at a red light, “ Always asking questions, just like your father. Well, in the order you asked: our teamup, there’s a hidden mikes in the lining of the helmet and my mask, and your home.”

“You know where I live?!! Wait, our team up?!!”

Shaking his head with a small laugh, “Yes our teamup. Your father speaks very highly of you, and I had been looking forward to working with you for sometime. Sooner, is better than later.” He is as good as I had heard; I just hoped that he didn’t notice me blushing even more.

The Victor took one more turn and we stopped in front of a construction site. Looking around, I rattled off more questions, “Why are we stopping here? I thought were taking me home. And how do you know where I live?”

The Victor glanced over his shoulder giving me a small grin, “Again with the questions? Okay, this time in the opposite order you asked. Sauce makes your father talk, and I figured you don’t want your neighbors finding out that you are secretly Yellow Tail, the Wiry Teen.”

Pointing to the far end of the site he continued, “There’s the alley behind your apartment, so you should be able duck into room, away from prying eyes.”

After I got off the bike, I was about to ask more questions when The Victor beat me to it, “Oh yeah, our teamup. Meet me Saturday at the corner of Simon and Chambers, around 10 am, I should have a surprise for you.”

As I was hiding my suit and gear in the back of my closet, I thought over what The Victor had said. Blue Beak... I mean Dad had let The Victor find out our secrets identities. I’m going to have to find someway to fix that. He also said he was looking forward to working with me. Why would the famous Crimson Crusader want to work with me? I hope Dad didn’t tell him all our secrets.

After I got ready for bed, I looked up the address that The Victor had given me. Turns out it’s a junkyard, weird. Even weirder was that the junkyard was owned by a charity organization called Winning Back Our Streets. Well I get to work with The Victor; I just had to wait a few more days.

Issue 0: Golden Till The End

From 1987 to 2002, Manhattan was under the ever-vigilant eye of The Victor. With his trademark grin, trickster mind, acrobatic skills, and his never-ending optimism, The Crimson Crusader faced gangs, disasters, supervillains, and the odd cat stuck in the tree. It would have stayed that way if I hadn’t stopped him.

I watch as he, in his trademark crimson bodysuit and half mask, reaches down from a tree and hands a kitten down to a little girl.

I watch as he waves goodbye to a pair of police officers and a tied up and very unhappy robber, and rides off on his crimson motorcycle. The robber is tied to a light pole and his would-be loot is sitting on his head.

I watch as he, covered in soot, hands a baby to their tearful mother. The firefighters work to contain the building he was just in.

I watch as he just stands in his iconic hands on hips pose, not even entering the dark alley, and sends the pair of thugs into a panic.

I watch as he stands on a float flashing his trademark grin and waving at his cheering fans.

The Victor was loved by children, praised by the police, adored by parents, feared by criminals and celebrated by all.

Well, maybe not all. In the corner of my eye I see a dark green skinned man with pointed ears and long snow-white hair wearing a black business suit glaring at the parade and its celebrated hero.

I see now that Emerald Elf, the Architect of Bedlam, isn’t alone. Behind him is his team The Spectrum of Evil.

The femme fatale with the short black hair in the blood red bodysuit is the much-feared Red Rouge, the Thorny Thief. Standing next to her is a pale frail looking woman in Victorian dress with striking white hair. She could only be Silver Sage, the Murderous Mystic. Towering beside her is a huge dark skinned man of muscles wearing Viking body armor. The Destructive Giant, Blue Barbarian, be he. And finally the militaristic looking man in the Nazi uniform can only be White Warrior, the Fist of Fascism.

I shake with fear, The Spectrum of Evil didn’t take lightly to the Cheerful Champion stopping their various scheming and acts of criminal intentions. From plugging up White Warrior’s plans to purify the city to catching Red Rogue during her latest medieval heist, The Victor was there to stop them. From outsmarting Blue Barbarian during one of his many destructive rampages to defeating one of Silver Sage’s rituals with a last minute save, The Victor was there. No matter where the Spectrum turned The Victor was always stood between them and success.

I watch as they attack the parade. White Warrior is holding the police at bay; Blue Barbarian is cutting down lamppost; Silver Sage is starting fires with her umbrella; Red Rouge is throwing daggers at the hot air balloons; and Emerald Elf is just leaning on his cane, enjoying the chaos. The only thing that got The Spectrum to work together was their complete hatred of the Agile Guardian.

Normally together The Spectrum of Evil wasn’t a match for him, but now they had the element of surprise. I watch helplessly as they corner against the very float he was ridding on moments ago. Each member The Spectrum has a weapon ready to give the killing blow. Emerald Elf has sparks coming off his cane; Red Rogue is twirling a pair of throwing knives; Silver Sage has spell on her lips; Blue Barbarian has his axe raised; and White Warrior is aiming his gun.

I wonder why The Victor is surprisingly calm and what exactly he is pointing at behind. I suddenly feel a ping of hope as The Spectrum looks in horror at the lighting, arrows, throwing knives, and a whip strike the ground at their feet. Of course, when The Victor couldn’t defeat them alone he would turn to his team, The New York Patrol. I see them now standing behind him.

Professor Nice, Student of the Occult, is the preppy looking man in the grey vest and tan khakis with the blank white stare. Light N. Blue, The Walking Battery, stands just left of him, her smooth skin sky blue skin in the bright white power suit giving her away, if not the electricity crackling from her hands would have. Quiver, The Arrow Queen, stands just off to the right from them wearing her dark purple bodysuit and bandanna mask, her namesake bag resting on her shoulder and aiming her bow with one of her many trick arrows. Just over her left shoulder, I can see a man in a light blue bodysuit holding a fistful of throwing knives. He’s wearing a cowl shaped like a bird’s beak, makes sense since he can only the Avian Guardian, Blue Beak. And if there was any doubt of who he was it would be destroyed by the appearance of the teenage girl in the light yellow bodysuit and squirrel mask, his young partner The Wiry Teen, Yellow Tail, twirling her whip. If The Victor needed help he didn’t need to look far.

I watch as The Spectrum is led into prison vans, with The New York Patrol looking on. At the end of the line I see Emerald Elf laughing. I begin the shake and sweat again. Despite all his talents and allies, The Victor wasn’t able to keep that Merchant of Mischief Emerald Elf behind bars for more than a minute.

In fact, of all The Victor’s enemies, Emerald Elf was the worst. I watch as he leaps backwards from the police van, laughing his maniacal laugh. In the van, I can see the charred remains of the two prison guards.

I watch he sells the small bags of the lush green meta-drug Ambrosia to a crowd of dope-eyed teenagers.

I watch as he walks grinningly away from an exploding police station.

I watch him laugh as shots a father of two dead, the new orphans holding each other and sobbing.

I watch as he stands at the head of a table surrounded by his men and divide up the city.

I watch as he grinningly kills one of his men just to shock the others into line.

He killed police by the hundreds, destroyed families, unified parts of the criminal underworld, and generally feared by those around him. Except of course by The Victor. I watch as The Cunning Caviler lands on the table and confront Emerald Elf, who has a look of delight, not fear, on his face.

I watch Emerald Elf and his men being led into a prison van. So the game continued, The Victor would capture that Wily Imp.

I watch as Emerald Elf walks away from a flaming prison van. And that Murderous Madman would escape to spread chaos for another day.

I watch as Emerald Elf converses with a group of cloaked figures. That is until Emerald Elf and his new found allies decided to change the rules.

The Victor, battered and bleeding, shoves me out of the way of the shotgun blast, screaming, “VIRGIL NO!!!” as he takes the bullets meant for me. I awake covered in sweat screaming the name of my beloved; my violent rising tosses the hammock from side to side, threatening to come off the doorway. I awaking screaming, “Queenie!!!”

First Tower Thursday

Adriana's: A restaurant & bar ran by the owner Kevin Smith (not that Smith) located in Harlem. It is built in the style of a Spanish hacienda and stands two stories tall. Near the waiting room are two shrines one to Adriana, Kevin's late wife, and and the other to Gquen, his late daughter.

First Wordy Wednesday

From the PC Encyclopedia:

3T (Touch, Tone, Texture) Technology: Projected holographic images that look, feel, and sound like the real thing

First Temporal Tuesday

Okay here's a scene from Year Three

Trenchcoat, "I'll need some candles."
Selma walks over across the room and stands next to a large cabinet. Opening it up asks, "What kind?"
Moving out of the way to gather some supplies, I can see the cabinet is filled with candles of every size, shape, and color imaginable.

First Most Wanted Monday

Bear: As cruel as he is simple, this once promising lineman is the muscle for the Hired Guns.

Real name: Bartholomew Tones
Age: 25
Ethnic group: Caucasian
Martial status: Single
Height: 6'8
Weight: 350 lbs
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
Known accomplices: His brothers David(Davy-san) and Sydney
Occupation: Muscle-for-hire/former linebacker
Abilities: Can bench press 1,000 lbs and skilled in wrestling
Group affiliations: Hired Guns, Sons of Crime(formally)

The Schedule

The PC Universe will be updated on a set schedule. There will be an event everyday, ending with new story at the end of the week.

The events will be:
Golden Age Sunday: A series of cliffhangers set in the Golden Age. They will be about The Victor, but told by whomever he's teamed up with.
Most Wanted Monday: A look at some of the most wanted supercriminals in the PC Universe.
Temporal Tuesday: A sneak peak into future story lines or scenes.
Wordy Wednesday: A word from the PC Encyclopedia

Because I have very little of the following, I've decided to rotate them ever three weeks.
Tower Thursday: A look at important locations from the PC Atlas.
Title Thursday: A look at a comic that I will be doing, eventually,.
Titan Thursday: A look at a hero from the PC's Golden Age.

And finally the main event:
Update Friday: A continuation of the PC Universe story.

Virgil: The Man Under The Mask

Just like my last post, this a repost from my old blog that has been updated for the new changes I have planned.

Before I start telling the stories, I thought I would tell you a little about Virgil. The best way to describe him is that he is a pacifist with access to nuclear weapons. The pacifist part is literal, but the nukes are figural, but no less lethal. He wasn't always so easygoing, being a hellraiser in his youth, but events in his life changed his views. One such event haunts him everyday.

He hates guns, and believes heavily in gun control. He has a nanadan rank in Aikido, but tries to talk his way out before using it. And he never fights in front of his son, Henri, (pronounced Henry). He splits his time between his son and mother, Alicia, helping his neighbors, and working as a private investigator/security consultant. He considers himself an Independent Investigator, and tries to avoid taking unsavory cases, while working mostly pro bono. And he doesn't date because he views himself as a danger to women.

One final thing to know about Virgil is that he is trying to be the everyman, but he can't be. He has too many things that set him apart from the everyday person and the least is that he's a masked crimefighter.

What's To Come/Why to Read

For those who've read my old blog, this is pretty much the same post over there, just updated.

I plan on using this blog to test out some stories I'm writing for my own comic universe. They will range from cats in trees to planet conquering aliens. I'm a big fan of play on world and mysteries; so anything from the name of a character to what they say, may hint at something to come. This universe is set in modern times but has Silver Age themes, so many stories will range from tongue in cheek to dead series.

Now the first year in the comics will focus on Virgil Huntre who is about to bring the Silver Age to life. This year also focuses on Nikoli Stile, a walking legend famous for starting the Era of Heroes, and The Victor, a crimefighter who started the Golden Age and whose death also ended it.

Like I said before this is for stories I'm writing, I can't even draw stick figures, so your welcome to submit your own takes on the descriptions. If I like yours and want to use it in my comics, I'll credit for your work and try to find someway to repay you, with a tribute character, some kind of public announcement, or something else.

Now for the reason you should care. I want your honest opinions. Are the stories lame? Did I tell a story in ten chapters that could have been told in five or less? Even tiny things. Did I misspell a word? Did I misuse a word? Did I use a ten dollar word when a dime word would have worked? This is an interactive process, so your opinions will have effect on the way I tell the stories.

Stay tuned for the first story. And please give your opinions.

My Comic Universe, Take Two

I'm slowly taking down my old blog DaniAllie Universe and reposting the information here and on other blogs that will come out of this. The difference to the old blog include writing it like a book and updating it on time. The first post will come tomorrow, Saturday, and continue everyday until the new schedule is set up, and then it will be everyday, but oddly enough, Saturday. Good luck to anyone who tries to follow me and hopefully this will not become another headache.