Heroid

((My birthday is right after Christmas, so all my life I've lived with "this is your Christmas present AND your birthday present." So I'm familiar with sucky birthdays. But recuperation from surgery/injury usually means some er... interesting... medications (if they don't make you sick). I suggest putting on Led Zeppelin, Houses of the Holy or Santana, Abraxas and enjoying the altered state. ))

Ain't nuthin' more humiliatin' 'n rescuin' some lady from some baddie an' then hearin' her talkin' ta her friends about how she got rescued by th' "Pizzabot"...

((To see the anti-hero done right, watch Cool Hand Luke. Or Casablanca. Or John Wayne in the Searchers. All are movies that anyone who likes film should see.

The thing about anti-heroes in comic books is this: the anti-hero sooner or later faces a choice where he has to do something heroic. Otherwise, he's just a schlub. Or a villain. And once you have him do that in a serial setting, he either has to go, "nah, I did that, but it didn't make me grow as a person," or he has to go, "I did that, and now I can't just go back to what I was, so what the hell do I do now?" The first example is how it's usually handled. The second example would make a damned fine series, but hardly anyone goes for such journeys of growth and self-discovery.

As far as the heroes crossing into the grey-zone -- that's why the new Hal Jordan Justice League doesn't interest me at all. It's stoopid. Especially with the characters they've picked for it. James Robinson is one of the best writers around, and maybe he can make it work, but the "taking the fight to the bad guys before they strike at us" premise sounds like some other idiot idea that I spent eight years trying hard not to think about. If you're going to do that, you need a covert team of heroes -- like Birds of Prey or the Outsiders; not Shazamarvel and Supergirl! D-u-m-b. Almost as dumb as having your heroes who have been poker buddies for years fighting a war in the street (only to find out later that some of them were aliens in disguise!).

Read Fables. Read Perhapanauts. Read Invincible. Read Ultimate Spider-man. Read Astro City. Comics done right. There are more, and you guys probably read some of them, but those are mine.

End rant. ))

((And I want to add -- the best anti-hero comic book I have ever read is Road to Perdition. It is so wonderful. Not a superhero in sight, but daaaaamn. If you like sequential storytelling, then you have got to read this! ))

((Champions is a different game. It has cell-shading, which I thought at first would be cool, but after seeing it in action, I realize it's just murky and somewhat ugly. Costume pieces tend toward the silly too. Like when Jack Kirby parodied his own work in Not Brand Echhs (old, old superhero satire comic put out by Marvel in the 60's). Haven't seen anything about Champs to recommend it.

The things Angry_Angel posted about are all part of CoH: Going Rogue, which should hit the stores about the same time as Champs Online. In it, heroes and villains will be able to do arcs that can cause them to change their convictions so that heroes go villain and villains become heroes. Not sure which of my own characters that might effect.

There will be some new powersets involved, which, if rumors are right one of them will be pistol blaster. Yes -- a pair of Glocks going "Powpowpowpow" -- or maybe blazing sixguns! The possibilities are endless!

And I16 is gonna be awesome also. Hope you have time to stick around for just a bit longer Sorah, just to see the new toys. ))

Other than Miu, the Armisters, and Tiny, I have made few friends here in the Isles. That doesn’t really bother me. Even when I first arrived at Maggie’s Rock, and enjoyed a brief spell of popularity, even among the “Populars”, I didn’t think that much of it one-way or the other. Popularity and unpopularity; many friends, or few; it doesn’t matter. It is the quality of the friendship that truly matters, not the quantity.

Still, in a place like Etoile, even if you can’t have too few friends, you can have too many enemies. So it was that when I accidentally set a group of acquaintances – the gang known as the Orphans – against my uncle Johnny Marcone (no, not that Johnny Marcone… not that one either… nor that one… yes – that’s the one) and it resulted in his death, I was more worried about how many enemies I was going to make than I was about losing potential friends or causing a death in the Family.

Miu (she knows them, or one of them, at least) said that they were very upset with me. And considering that I know at least two of them are homicidal maniacs who revel in bludgeoning and eviscerating their foes, well… I’d just rather not have them upset with me.

And on the other side of the matter, my grandfather, Angelo Camilleri called a Council of War over the matter. It seems that the Orphans not only killed my uncle, they invaded his building and killed his entire crew. The Marcones and their allies do not take kindly to such incursions.

Of course, I didn’t know that the Council of War was about the Orphans. I am not privy to such business yet (still a boss-in-training). But when Miu told me about the Orphans’ vendetta against me, and what they had done, it wasn’t hard to figure things out.

And so it is that I am standing in the den in my grandfather’s home, with around twenty or so ill tempered and angry mobsters staring me down.

“Mickey, what are you doing here?” Grandfather says.

“Oh… I… was looking for you. Am I disturbing something?”

Someone mutters something about my accent. I’ve never really developed a decent Sicilian voice, and so I think I sound a bit effete to them. My grandfather shoots the one who muttered a killing glance, and then turns his attention back to me.

“You should call me on the phone, Mickey. I’m busy.”

“Yeah, this is man’s business,” someone says, “you should go to the kitchen where the women are.”

My grandfather gives another angry glare and when he turns back to me, I see that a bit is of it is reserved for me.

“Mickey, go home to your girlfriend. This isn’t anything you need to know about.”

“Why not, Angelo? Let the kid get his hands dirty.”

“Yeah, my boy’s right here with me. He ain’t afraid of a fight! Or is this kid too much like his old man, Carli?”

Things are getting tense. It’s time to carry out my plan.

I have powers you see, some from my father, and some from my mother. From my mother I inherited all of these wonderful psi powers that allow me to stun foes and even hemorrhage brains and also TK powers that allow me to move things around with my mind to the point where I can now transmitter objects. My father’s gift to me was a far more terrible power. The power of Truth. With but a touch I can either reveal or hide the truth from someone. It is a heavy responsibility and I do not take it lightly.

These men who hold me in such disdain, and my grandfather who is trying his best to make me into a man he can be proud of, they do not expect what happens next, which is exactly why it works so well.

I psi-blast the entire room, leaving everyone in it (except of course, me) in a stunned stupor. Then I quickly go one-by-one to them and tell them this story: The council killed Uncle Johnny and his crew; the Orphans are a minor nuisance at best and not worthy of the Family’s interest; and indeed, the Council attacked you here, tonight, and if not for the quick action of yours truly, all of the bosses in this room would have been killed.

To prove my story, I place an empty gas canister in the middle of the floor. It has the Council’s insignia on it. Oh! I almost forget! I pick up the canister and give myself a good whack on the head with it to make it look as if I’ve been in a fight.

Within a few minutes, they all wake up, the bosses and their right-hand men. They remember things exactly as I describe to them. I fill out the story as I go, not making myself too much the hero. They all leave the room, filing out one after another, shaking my hand and clapping my back. I hate lying, but this… feels good.

The last out is Gino Marcone and his attendant, a tall, powerfully muscled man with a shaved head and tattoos. He looks very familiar. He smiles as he shakes my hand, then punches me on the shoulder. Something about his fist feels familiar…

((I always thought the Worst Song Ever as officially designated by the Popular Music Critics and Fans Association (PMCFA) was this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DGNdvKvbxYQ

After all, there haven't been very many Top 40 hits about canibalism. It needs some sort of designation. ))

((Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie was brilliant. I loved it. The show didn't work for me at all, but then, I'm probably aging more into Matlock...

And Sorah and Sid -- there is a graphic novel called "Fade from Grace" that is brilliantly executed all the way around. One of the best superhero stories I've ever read, but definitely not standard superhero fare.

Also, anyone not reading Fables is missing a great book.

Speaking of standard superhero fare: Astro City is going back on a monthly schedule as is Powers! Astro City is de bomb if you like superheroes! And Powers is de bomb if you don't (as you typically get to see one meet a grisly fate about every other issue).

And one more beef against Marvel -- they don't need the Sentry. It was a wonderful mini-series, and when they wrapped it up, they should have left the character forgotten.

Agents of Atlas is awesome, but alas, it ties into the regular Marvel U. continuity.

I hate continuity. It's ruining the industry. ))

((Hi, Garielle. Welcome to Virtue.

But I must say, from the title of your thread I was expecting either Mick Jagger or Lucifer, but you don't seem much like either of them, which is probably just as well.

As far as your age, I'm going to assume you are the median age in that range and say you're 69. Yay! Someone older than me and that old pirate! ))

((Sorah, sweetie, you know I'm pulling for you! ))

((*Still wants to see Sorah draw Birds of Prey... even if it's not currently around. ))

((I always wait for the dvd, but I might make an exception for this one. ))

((I make my living like most people do -- with a tube of chapstick and a jar of vaseline. ))

((Well **** me and call me peckerhead -- it does.))

((I'm just wondering if the ******* thing that censors posts works here like it did on the other ones.))

((I was missing the old boards, but this thread is really helping me adjust. See, I thought the new look would change things. And some people had strange, new avatars and sigs and stuff...

But, now it feels just like home, with a fresh paint job. Or maybe the bathroom redecorated with a new toilet and everything...

Anyway... I ramble...

Gonna post right after this to test one more thing out about these new forums...))

((Sorah! It's you! *fanboy squee*

Glad to see you back! ))

A small room in the same building as “Michael Marcone’s” apartment…

“It ain’t normal.”

“Whuddaya mean?”

“I mean he’s what? Sixteen? Seventeen? An’ he’s got a cutey like that livin’ with ‘im an’ ya don’t never even see ‘em kiss ‘er?”

“Maybe he’s a good boy.”

“Hey… At that age, there ain’t no good boys.”

Chuckles.

“I tell ya, we need ta put some equipment in th’ bedrrom.”

“Th’ boss says that’s off-limits – ya pervert.”

“Serious. Somethin’s goin’ on here – ‘r not goin’ on if ya git my drift…”

“What’s goin’ on right now?”

“They’re jus’ talkin’.”

“Yeah? ‘Bout what?”

“Somethin’ about her ‘findin’ herself’.”

“She oughta be findin’ herself under him.”

Chuckles.

“Wait – lookit! On th’ livin’ room cam.“

“Whut?”

“They’re goin’ inta th’ bathroom t’gether.”

“We gotta audio bug in there, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Turn it up an’ see whut we get.”

“Crap – all I hear is th’ shower runnin’.”

“Hey, that’s a good sign. Maybe he’s getting’ her wet.”

Chuckles.

“Water’s already off. Must notta worked out…”

“They ain’t come out yet – don’t see ‘em on the livin’ room camera.”

“Heh. Sounds like a blow-dryer runnin’.”

“Maybe she misunnerstood whut he wuz askin’ her ta do…”

Chuckles.

“Hair-dryer’s stopped.”

“Lookit – I see ‘em now – they’re comin’ out an’ headin' ta th' boudoir…”

“Now that’s more like it.”

“Damn. That’s one fine piece o’ –“

“—jailbait fer you, ya pervert.”

“Yeah… still wish we hadda camera in th’ bedroom.”