Saturday, October 31, 2015
1/ Clea's hands grasp the golden ringlet set with a large sapphire resting upon her brow. We can only see from just under her eyebrows to just above her hairline. She is going to remove the Flames of Regency.
Dormammu (OP): Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown, eh, niece?
2/ She kneels in front of Dormammu, offering him the crown of the Dark Dimension's ruler. He is reaching out for it, all too happy to take on the responsibility, even though he is Faltinian at his core.
Dormammu: I believe one of your terran bards coined that particular turn of phrase, but who can be bothered to keep track.
3/ At his touch, the Flames begin to merge with Dormammu's already fiery personage.
Dormammu: At last! The Flames of Regency fall to their rightful owner. Now...
4/ She walks away from her uncle. Stephen Strange has his arms around her tenderly, but the look on her face is not one of acceptance. Behind them, Dormammu throws out an arm as he issues Clea's banishment.
Dormammu: Be gone! Once again, this is a place of true magicks. There will be no need for the parlor tricks of misguided children or the interference of street wizards here any longer.
Strange: Ignore him, Clea. Let this Ozymandias alone to look upon his works.
5/ Over her shoulder, Clea gives the Dark Dimension's new master a final warning.
Clea: I will return... Uncle.
Friday, October 30, 2015
Thursday, October 29, 2015
1.1: A dark panel covered in little specs of light shining through like stars in the sky. Clea’s narrative captions hang in space like Hazel’s handwriting in SAGA, so they look like they’re dangling in the black like constellations.
1. CLEA [CAPTION]: When we came here my father and I had nothing.
1.2: The lights turn on to a degree. We can see shades of NORTH AMERICA in the constellations.
2. CLEA [CAPTION]: It wasn’t like…
3. CLEA [CAPTION]: …Let there be light!
1.3: A SLASH OF LIGHT crosses the night sky, like someone is cutting into the fabric of space-time. Edges of color leak through it.
4. CLEA [CAPTION]: No. Someone performed surgery.
1.4: CLEA appears in the darkness, framed by the constellations, her finger up to her lips. This is a MEDIUM SHOT, so from her chest up, but she’s not wearing what she would normally be wearing—something slightly more tasteful. She’s wearing a colored shirt, a string of pearls light up her face and accent her silver hair.
5. CLEA: That’s when he came for me.
1.5: DOCTOR STRANGE blasts through the scalpel tear in dimensions.
1.6: They stand next to each other in the newly illuminated DARK DIMENSION.
6. CLEA [CAPTION]: He brought the anthropocene: The age of humans in the Dark Dimension.
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Monday, October 26, 2015
CLEA (off-panel): For the last time, I don't know who your baby's father is!
SFX (off-panel): slam!
CLEA (off-panel): argh!
2 - Clea stomps into the kitchen, clearly frustrated. Doctor Strange looks up from chopping.
DOCTOR STRANGE: Something the matter, honey?
3 - Clea hands over a piece of paper to Doctor Strange. Strange takes it, interest on his face.
CLEA: I don't understand it. I took out an ad and everything, just like Danny and Luke suggested.
4 - Doctor Strange looks at the paper, a small smile on his face.
DOCTOR STRANGE: Did they by any chance write that ad for you?
CLEA: Why do you ask?
5 - Focus on the paper / ad. Doctor Strange's hand is visible at one side holding the paper. There's some copy at the top referring "Horrible hauntings? Monstrous maulings? There's a solution for you!" Some of that can be cut off by the panel border, as the focus is on the following words:
It won't cost a fortune. I'm telling you don't miss this chance. Clea is here to help! Call me now!
That said, four words in that block of text are much bigger and bolder, causing them to stand out
Fortune Telling Miss Clea
Which, along with the "Call me now!" could lead to a much different interpretation than what Clea is likely going for.
DOCTOR STRANGE (off-panel): No reason.
Sunday, October 25, 2015
When asked, David had the following to say about himself:
David Press lives with his librarian/musician wife in New York’s Adirondack Park. By day he teaches writing, comics, and film at Paul Smith’s College. He’s been writing comics in one form or another since he was thirteen starting with Mark Waid and Mike Wieringo’s run on The Flash. He’s currently revising a novel called Emerson, which follows two high school students who realize that their writing can alter reality. He leaves his notes at davidpress.net.
Please join me in re-welcoming him to the site!
Saturday, October 24, 2015
1/ Dr. Crowe bursts through the back door of a small shop and into the main room. It is after hours. Atop him is a large, clay man. A golem. The first glyph in the Hebrew word "emet" (truth), carved into the golem's forehead, has been scratched out to make the word read "met" (death). Crowe is worse for wear, his clothing torn in multiple places and the beak of his mask partially bent. His hands, in particular, are bloodied. Through the doorway, his assistant Nora has her crossbow readied, and has fired an arrow into the back of the golem's head, where it sticks with a soft splut.
Caption: The key to a golem's destruction is often the removal of a single glyph from the word that has been fed into it.
2/ The golem, distracted, has Crowe pinned to the ground, but is more interested in Nora. Underneath him, Crowe tenses a bloody fist.
Caption: Or carved into its forehead.
3/ Swinging with all his might, Crowe's fist connects, flinging the golem's head back. Droplets of blood from Crowe's wounds fly into the air, and where they hit the golem, what counts as skin starts to sizzle.
Caption: Or on a sign hung around its neck.
4/ The golem dissipates. Crowe has risen to one knee as he shields himself from the thick cloud of monster dust. Nora has so many questions, but advances hesitantly.
Caption: There really are too many methods to imbue formed clay with such a brutal mockery of life.
Crowe: Blood magic.
5/ Crowe stands triumphantly over the pile of golem dust, but the battle is not yet won.
Caption: But the most dangerous of all involves blood.
Crowe: The word was merely a ruse. This... thing. Whoever sent it...
Crowe: This is personal. Very personal.
Friday, October 23, 2015
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Monday, October 19, 2015
Set-up: a number of gruesome deaths befalling excavation and construction crews beneath the catacombs of Rome have been discovered to be at the hands of a 2000-year-dead Centurion soldier. He has fought off police and army, got past our hero, Doctor Crowe, and is about to reach the surface...
Panel 1- POV, from the top of the catacomb stairs. The CENTURION has nearly reached the top, his rictus grin of rotted teeth bared, sunken eyes gleaming in palpable victory.
CAPTION: One cannot stop a plague by attacking the symptoms...
Panel 2- same POV as panel 1, except the CENTURION is at the top, but the manic confidence is gone, replaced by horrified shock.
CAPTION: ...but rather by wiping out the source of the disease...
Panel 3- from behind the CENTURION. Wide shot of St. Peter's basilica, the large crucifix of Jesus center.
Panel 4- the CENTURION is kneeling in front of the stairway. DOCTOR CROWE comes up behind, readying to swing a giant Roman war hammer.
CROWE: Do you see, foul Roman? Your battle lost, your victory stolen. Not now...
Panel 5- same as panel 4, except CROWE has swung the hammer, demolishing the CENTURION's head.
CROWE: ...but two thousand years ago.
2 - Close-up of a frog in the water (such as this). It isn't really necessary to have much further detail to the panel than the frog.
NORA (off-panel): ...what is this?
3 - Doctor Crowe puts out an arm in front of Nora and holds out his crossbow with the other. He continues to look directly at the frogs.
DOCTOR CROWE (1): We need to go.
DOCTOR CROWE (2): Now.
Sunday, October 18, 2015
1 CAP DR. CROWE: The chilling memory still haunts me to this day. I was a fool to think that I could stop the grisly inevitable.
2 DR. CROWE: Now, miss, let's have a look at that arm of yours.
The werewolf stands before them on its haunches, towering over Dr. Crowe and the servant girl. Dr. Crowe has armed his steam-powered crossbow and has it pointed directly at the werewolf.
3 DR. CROWE CAP: I had miscalculated the severity of his affliction, and the treatment only served to accelerate his turn.
4 WEREWOLF: ROAAARAGH!
5 DR. CROWE: Quick! Get behind me!
The beast pounces on the servant and begins violently ripping her to bloody shreds.
5 SERVANT: AIIIIEEE!!
Dr. Crowe fires his crossbow and sends an arrow directly into its black heart. It roars out in pain.
6 WEREWOLF: ROAAARAGH!
7 DR. CROWE: Damn you, beast! Don’t make me do this!
Dr. Crowe stands over the slain beast. His crossbow rests proudly on his shoulder.
8 CAP DR. CROWE: In the blink of an eye there was so much meaningless death.
9 CAP DR. CROWE (2): If only they had sent for me sooner.
10 CAP DR. CROWE (3): If only.
This creation has allowed me to play in a few sandboxes that I sincerely enjoy as a writer -- horror, pulp and action/adventure. As a reader, there’s nothing that appeals to more than a book that simply entertains and allows you to forget about any real world problems, if even for a brief moment. Blending these genres together, and having a character like Dr. Crowe lead the charge, has allowed me to create the entertaining kind of book that I would pick up at my local comic shop.
In the interim, I'll turn it over to Corey to tell you more about himself:
Corey Fryia is a comic book writer and occasional editor from Bowling Green, Kentucky. He’s the writer/co-creator of “Doctor Crowe” from 215 Ink, the co-editor of “Out of the Blue: A Collection of Strange Stories” and the upcoming sequel, “Out of the Blue: A Collection of Campfire Tales,” and has had shorts published in various independent publications. You can find more info on Corey's work by visiting coreyfryia.net and follow him on Twitter @coreyfryia.Watch out for his excellent pick - and his equally killer script - later today!
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Apologies for all the late entries recently, and thanks to Grant for posting The Orient Express' Why? for me in a pinch. Hopefully things will be smoother sailing from here on out. At least for a little while. And, in case you missed them, my entries for Ashkan Honorvar's Heroes and The Orient Express are now live, so go read them!
1/ A hooded figure in black leather armor whispers hatefully into the Archduke's ear as he presses the monarch up against the railing of his oration balcony. He is simultaneously plunging a jeweled dagger deep into the Archduke's gullet. The blood gushing from the wound stains the white and purple vestments of the former ruler of this world.
Myrgos: For my sister...
2/ Myrgos withdraws his blade, pulling back to stand in full view. He is a drow, flanked by a large man with red hair wearing full plate, a woman barely visible under a midnight blue cloak with the hood drawn, and a kentauride with short cropped hair and tribal brandings up and down her exposed arms. The redheaded man cradles his large hammer, the cloaked woman stands still as a statue, and the kentauride has an arrow nocked, but not aimed.
Farrar: Is-- Is that it? Is it over?
Violca: No. Not yet.
3/ Profile. Close. From within her cloak, Violca has drawn a handful of dust, raised it in front of her face, and is blowing it towards the unsteady figure of the Archduke.
4/ He backs up, tripping and about to plummet to his death over the rail.
Archduke: No! Not like this! Not--
5/ The Bazaar. The speck of the Archduke's body can be seen as it falls from the balcony. The multitudes watch on in silence. The tyrant has departed this world.
Caption: "Take my life, but take it in vain, as an innocent's, and pray to your God that the blood you shed today may never be visited upon you."
6/ Myrgos. Sneering. He spits from the corner of his mouth.
Myrgos: Good riddance.
Friday, October 16, 2015
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
MAGUS: YOUR LORD GOD!
Monday, October 12, 2015
CAPTION (ELIZABETH) (1): It's the same old story.
CAPTION (ELIZABETH) (2): When there's lots to go around.
2 - Closer-in on one of the market stalls. Two guards are hassling a lone vendor, who looks tired and scared.
CAPTION (ELIZABETH): Someone will always want more.
GUARD: You're not late again, are you?
3 - Pull back slightly. An elderly woman (Elizabeth) at her own stall looks on at the scene unfolding. She doesn't look happy. She wears an outfit that's all black. The man pulls out a small bag, presumably filled with coins, and nervously passes it to the guards.
CAPTION (ELIZABETH): I used to complain to Archie that someone should stand up to them.
VENDOR: No, no. It's all here!
4 - The guards walk over to Elizabeth's stall. They wear the easy going attitude of people who know they have all the power. If on panel, Elizabeth is openly outraged.
CAPTION (ELIZABETH): Eventually, I convinced him to do just that.
GUARD: Afternoon, Mrs. Walder.
5 - Elizabeth is as mad as ever. A similar bag of coins sits on her table / counter, although she doesn't openly gesture to it, instead focusing her rage at the guards. They don't really care.
ELIZABETH: Just take it already.
6 - Elizabeth is alone at her stall, the guards have left (along with the coins). She cries openly.
CAPTION (ELIZABETH): I still wish I hadn't.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Exterior of a fantasy-inspired city. Our protagonist is a young street urchin named Lukas. He is wading through a crowd on his way to the booths of the city's street market.
Lukas (caption): A new month means new vendors. And that means new suckers from all over the kingdom.
Lukas, with a pitiful expression on his face, accepting a bowl of soup from an old woman. There is a large cauldron of soup in her little market stall.
Lukas: May the gods of plenty grace you.
Lukas (caption): The villagers from the East always help with food.
Lukas coughing into one hand while accepting a small bronze coin in the other. The man giving him the coin is a wizened fellow selling trinkets.
Lukas: Silba, the healer-
Lukas (SFX): cough
Lukas: -bless you.
Lukas (caption): In the West, they give small coins to ward off sickness.
Lukas bowing his head with a pair of socks in his hand. The woman giving him the socks is selling clothing.
Lukas: Your kindness returned a thousand-fold.
Lukas (caption): Up North it's good luck to give a child clothing.
Lukas, sitting on the railing of a small bridge, looking across a small waterway. He is chewing on an apple.
Lukas (caption): They come from all over with their little customs. Thank the gods they do.
I'm sure this picture speaks to people in different ways. But it made me think of the meeting of different places and cultures. The bridges, designed to bring two places together. And a city market, which is a living mixture of different cultures brought together.
For this week, the topic is about the meeting (and possibly clashing) of different places or cultures. How is a meeting place different? Or how do people act in these places? What happens when different cultures meet and mingle? What happens when they don't get along? It's all fair game.
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Europe, 1930s. Jacques carries the bags of some well-dressed older patrons onto a stately and high class train car. The train station around them is large and there are a few well-dress patrons milling around. Jacques is outfitted in a uniform.
Jacques (caption): I knew working on the Orient Express would be glamorous.
Jacques holding a small tray with a placid look on his face as a young well-dressed woman holding a martini glass berates him.
Jacques (caption): I got to rub elbows with the moneyed elite.
Well-dress woman: This tastes of swill. Make a better one!
Panel Three:Jacques holding a small bag for a well-dressed young man as the young man vomits violently into the bag.
Jacques (caption): But I was never made to feel lesser than them.
Vomiting man: Huuuuuurrrrph!
Jacques staring into a bathroom/water closet. He has rags and a bucket in his hands and look of incredulous disgust.
Jacques (caption): And, yes, the job had its downsides.
Jacques standing on the outside back railing of the last car of train, a cigarette in hand/mouth, looking out and admiring something unseen with a wide smile of contentment.
Jacques (caption): But I got to experience the most wonderful luxuries.
Reveal the stunning beauty of the European countryside which is what Jacques was admiring in the previous panel.
Jacques (caption): Some that even the guests could not enjoy.
Friday, October 9, 2015
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Monday, October 5, 2015
Sunday, October 4, 2015
1/ An outdoor cafe in a well-populated European city. The streets are idly busy with mid-afternoon pedestrians and traffic. A slender man man with spectacles sits alone, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.
2/ Having picked up and shuffled the paper to the desired page, the man is about to take a sip from his cup when a voice draws his attention. He glances up with nary a hint of interest.
Pike (OP): I see that you have received my telegram.
3/ Taking a seat across from him is another man, slightly more rotund than his companion and brandishing a prominent mustache.
Pike: I must admit, I was wary of the endeavor at first, but it seems to have all worked out in the end, eh? Little Jacques fulfilled his end of the bargain. Now all that I ask is that you fulfill yours.
4/ Far overhead, a large train passes by on a suspended bridge. From our view on the surface of the water below, we can just make out a glinting bag falling in a graceful arc. Someone has just thrown a bag out the window of the train.
Victim (OP): STOP! THIEF!
5/ The bespectacled man finally gets a sip of his coffee.
Geoffries: Very well.
6/ Beneath the water, maybe even a continued shot of the scene set in 4/, a third man with indiscernible features is clutching a bag with at least one strand of pearls about to fall from it. He is wearing rudimentary scuba diving equipment. What we would now definitively identify as antique.
Geoffries: For conspiracy, extortion, and attempted murder--
7/ Pike. A look of abject terror on his face. Behind him stand two appropriately-uniformed officers.
Geoffries (OP): Llewellyn Pike, you are under arrest.
About 130 years ago, this little train company started up. You might have heard of it. Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits? ... Okay, maybe not. But I'll bet you've heard about their little train(s) that could: The Orient Express.
Yeah. Thought so.
Setting off for Giurgiu, Romania, le Express d'Orient left Paris on October 4, 1883, and even though the first train didn't exactly provide the most luxurious travel, that is exactly what The Orient Express and CIWL have become synonymous with.
The train itself features prominently in Bram Stoker's Dracula, Ian Fleming's From Russia, with Love, and, well, Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express. But, if literature isn't your thing, you still might have heard about it from Doctor Who, Chuck, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, or every piece of fiction with a train in it produced after October 4, 1883. Roughly.
Having said all of that, know that our theme for this week does not need to be taken entirely literally. If you don't want to write about a historic train, don't. Put it in space, or underwater, or through the center of the earth. Snowpierce it up. Just make it fancy!
And, as always, if you're one of those people still standing on the platform, gazing longingly down the track, it's time to get that ticket punched.
Perry is yet another writer whom I met through Comics Experience, and I was such a fan of his scripts that I knew I wanted to have some of them grace our own pages. Now, I can cheerfully say they will.
As Perry puts it:
Perry Kent is a writer who lives in the Pacific Northwest. He has been making up stories his whole life and has been putting pen to paper since the first time he fell in love with a book. After recently discovering that people actually want to read some of his stories, he has been earnestly clacking away at his keyboard. Still fresh to the cutthroat, swashbuckling world of serious storytelling, he hopes to be putting his work out into the world any day now. When he makes brief forays onto the internet he can be found on Twitter (@TheOtherPerry) stalking other writers and comic creators.
Please join me in welcoming him to our shores.
Saturday, October 3, 2015
1/ Fire and metal. An extreme close-up of an ongoing battle. Exactly what's happening is unclear.
Caption: Evel Knievel once said he'd crawl to Cape Kennedy to go to the moon.
2/ Pulling back, the Human Torch is ferociously attacking Colossus, whose organic steel is somehow holding its shape under the intense heat.
Caption: But not if he was gonna be the second man there.
3/ Colossus grabs hold of the Human Torch's foot. He is about to swing his upwardly-mobile opponent into the ground when, ...
Ghost Rider (OP): Enough!
4/ Both of them recoil in pain, hands immediately going to their heads like they're experiencing the worst migraine imaginable.
5/ Ghost Rider. He is standing over the crumpled form of The Orb. Piotr and Johnny are both looking dazed. Not surprising for two superheroes coming to the sudden realization that their thoughts and actions have been completely fabricated for the past... who knows how long. They are in a castle in Latveria. More precisely, in the mysteriously unoccupied throne room of one Doctor Doom.
Ghost Rider: What the Hell are you two doing here?
Friday, October 2, 2015
Thursday, October 1, 2015