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Just to let everyone know it seems Imgur has for whatever reason been blocked in the UK. This is my main image hosting website of choice, so if anyone has any recommendations for others please let me know. Unfortuantely the below is all I see if something is posted through Imgur!
I'll be catching up on what posts I haven't read this morning, and I'll get another Bat post up later today!
This is Downing Street's way of protecting you from my going crazy with AI art for my characters (seriously, I even had a set for Teth as Marvel's Captain Marvel if MB's game had rolled on)
<Snipped quote by Cyrania>
I uh...
Wrote that part a week ago and did not notice the mention in Sep's sheet.
<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>
Now I gotta do Thorsday.
I mean, the name Thursday is literally that :D
My only hope of writing is when I have child care during the week, so the idea of posting anything during the weekend is out for me.
Happy Man of Steel Monday to those who celebrate.
I think you meant Middle School Monday.
AMNESTY BAY, MAINE
FRADON MIDDLE SCHOOL
Monday was taking an L.
But sloppy joe day? That was winning.
“Hey, look, it’s Ar-turd.”
Called out from the cafeteria line, the tow-headed boy glanced over to where another middle schooler was giving his best performative rendition of trying too hard before the usual crowd on hangers-on eager to be seen as the in crowd.
It was sloppy joe day. If the prospect of an epic fail on a math test next period couldn’t bring him down, then even a level 100 asshole like Michael Sardinia had no chance.
As the line slowly shuffled by the table where Michael had gathered his sycophants, Arthur feigned ignorance as he seemed to fumble a moment over recognition. “Oh, it’s Sardine, right? There’s a swim meet coming up next week. You’ve lost to me... how many times, again? Oh, right, all of them.”
The other boy just scowled.
“Wow, that must be embarrassing,” Arthur quipped, as his section of the line was starting to move on past the table.
“You had a half-second last time, Ar-turd!” he heard Michael call out to his back.
With a dismissive gesture, the blonde boy just fired back, “Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. Next week will be different.”
As the line continued to progress, Arthur picked out some silverware and a tray, eventually scoring the coveted slop of a meat-like substance loosely piled atop a bun. The very definition of life is good.
And there was still an apple flavored juice box, too? Total W rizz.
It wasn’t until he’d passed the cashier and confronted the daunting task of finding a table that Arthur’s future seemed anything but bright.
Table selection was totes important. Sitting with the wrong people was, like, a total...
HELP!
Arthur’s head turned sharply, his eyes searching for the source of the muffled, desperate voice before he realized...
...it hadn’t been a voice at all.
But sloppy joe day? That was winning.
“Hey, look, it’s Ar-turd.”
Called out from the cafeteria line, the tow-headed boy glanced over to where another middle schooler was giving his best performative rendition of trying too hard before the usual crowd on hangers-on eager to be seen as the in crowd.
It was sloppy joe day. If the prospect of an epic fail on a math test next period couldn’t bring him down, then even a level 100 asshole like Michael Sardinia had no chance.
As the line slowly shuffled by the table where Michael had gathered his sycophants, Arthur feigned ignorance as he seemed to fumble a moment over recognition. “Oh, it’s Sardine, right? There’s a swim meet coming up next week. You’ve lost to me... how many times, again? Oh, right, all of them.”
The other boy just scowled.
“Wow, that must be embarrassing,” Arthur quipped, as his section of the line was starting to move on past the table.
“You had a half-second last time, Ar-turd!” he heard Michael call out to his back.
With a dismissive gesture, the blonde boy just fired back, “Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. Next week will be different.”
As the line continued to progress, Arthur picked out some silverware and a tray, eventually scoring the coveted slop of a meat-like substance loosely piled atop a bun. The very definition of life is good.
And there was still an apple flavored juice box, too? Total W rizz.
It wasn’t until he’d passed the cashier and confronted the daunting task of finding a table that Arthur’s future seemed anything but bright.
Table selection was totes important. Sitting with the wrong people was, like, a total...
HELP!
Arthur’s head turned sharply, his eyes searching for the source of the muffled, desperate voice before he realized...
...it hadn’t been a voice at all.
“Oh no...“Time seemed to stop. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as he broke into a sweat. The cafeteria seemed to loom large around him as he was suddenly drowning in a sea of voices.
...did I get the memo? Shiiiiiiiit, you ain’t taught in front of a class in 15 years. Tell me how to do my job.
...nine months until I’m tenured. Can’t come fast enough.
His breathing quickening, the boy tried to recover and hurry past the teacher’s table.
”Get back in my head... get back in my head... get back in my head…” the boy repeated to himself, as desperation started to kick in.
Bitch thinks she’s soooo mature just ‘cuz she already got her period.
The boy took a sharp turn, moving as quickly as he could from where he’d picked up that stray thought. His face glowing bright red as the desperation turned to full blown panic attack.
He dropped the tray and bailed out into the hallway, the cacophony of thoughts talking over each other stifling and drowning out all but the pounding of his heart in his ears. The child burst through the door to the boy’s bathroom and never even realized he’d torn it off its hinges when he had.
Hiding in the back stall, Arthur climbed up onto the toilet and curled into a ball, burying his face and tears into his legs as he tried to will the voices away.
Why can’t I be normal?
...did I get the memo? Shiiiiiiiit, you ain’t taught in front of a class in 15 years. Tell me how to do my job.
...nine months until I’m tenured. Can’t come fast enough.
His breathing quickening, the boy tried to recover and hurry past the teacher’s table.
”Get back in my head... get back in my head... get back in my head…” the boy repeated to himself, as desperation started to kick in.
Bitch thinks she’s soooo mature just ‘cuz she already got her period.
The boy took a sharp turn, moving as quickly as he could from where he’d picked up that stray thought. His face glowing bright red as the desperation turned to full blown panic attack.
He dropped the tray and bailed out into the hallway, the cacophony of thoughts talking over each other stifling and drowning out all but the pounding of his heart in his ears. The child burst through the door to the boy’s bathroom and never even realized he’d torn it off its hinges when he had.
Hiding in the back stall, Arthur climbed up onto the toilet and curled into a ball, burying his face and tears into his legs as he tried to will the voices away.
Why can’t I be normal?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Arthur’s bus stop was a pier.
In the morning, his dad brought him in by boat to the jetty and Arthur walked up from there. In the afternoon, it was reversed. Waiting on the jetty for his dad to come pick him up.
As Tom Curry brought the boat alongside, he leaned his head out of the small pilot house to ask, “How was sc...“
As he hopped down into the boat, the boy answered by throwing the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and then pulling the drawstrings to cinch it down as if trying to hide his face.
“Math test was that bad,” the man reasoned aloud, pausing a moment to debate if he should do something as he watched Arthur go to the bow of the boat – as far away from Tom as he could get – before ultimately swinging the boat away from the jetty and easing the throttle back to nudge the boat into motion as they set sail for the island.
Arthur had always thought he was normal.
It wasn’t until he’d wanted to do sports that he realized he was anything but. His dad wouldn’t allow it. Not any of the ones Arthur had suggested at first, anyway. They’d finally agreed that he could try for the swim team. But even that had conditions on it. At practice and at competition, parents to the left and right of him would be encouraging their kids to do their best, to give it their all.
And his dad? Dial it back, Arthur. Make sure you're only slightly ahead of the others.
That’s when everything had started to come into focus for him. He was stronger than other kids his age. He knew what people were thinking, like he was in their head instead of his own. And not just with people, either.
And he didn’t hold his breath under water like other kids either. In fact, he breathed easier underwater. It was like a second skin.
He was a freak.
Was his mom a mutie? Is that why his dad wouldn’t talk about her?
...help, please...
His eyes were red. Tears streaking down and his nose running as he tilted his head back and looked up.
It was the same voice he’d heard at lunch. Only weaker. Struggling.
Dying
His eyes glowed as the boy’s gaze fixed on a point over the horizon. Dropping the hood back, the boy’s blonde hair flitted in the wind as he turned and shouted, “DAD, THERE’S SOMEONE ON THE REEF!”
From behind the wheel, the man stuck his head out of the pilot house as he questioned if he’d heard that correct. The reef? “WHAT!?” How in the hell could he know that? The reef wasn’t even visible from here.
“THERE’S SOMEONE ON THE REEF!”
Something he heard in Arthur’s voice made the decision for him. “HOLD ON!” he called, opening the throttle as the boat lurched forward as the power took hold and the man steered it toward the very danger the lighthouse was meant to warn sailors away from.
The orcas also appeared, sprays of exhaled mist shooting up as the pod swam on either side of the boat.
The reef and surrounding shoals were in view. And starting to get larger. Cutting the throttle, “TOO MANY ROCKS UNDER THE WATER. THIS IS AS CLOSE AS I CAN GET,”
In the morning, his dad brought him in by boat to the jetty and Arthur walked up from there. In the afternoon, it was reversed. Waiting on the jetty for his dad to come pick him up.
As Tom Curry brought the boat alongside, he leaned his head out of the small pilot house to ask, “How was sc...“
As he hopped down into the boat, the boy answered by throwing the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and then pulling the drawstrings to cinch it down as if trying to hide his face.
“Math test was that bad,” the man reasoned aloud, pausing a moment to debate if he should do something as he watched Arthur go to the bow of the boat – as far away from Tom as he could get – before ultimately swinging the boat away from the jetty and easing the throttle back to nudge the boat into motion as they set sail for the island.
Arthur had always thought he was normal.
It wasn’t until he’d wanted to do sports that he realized he was anything but. His dad wouldn’t allow it. Not any of the ones Arthur had suggested at first, anyway. They’d finally agreed that he could try for the swim team. But even that had conditions on it. At practice and at competition, parents to the left and right of him would be encouraging their kids to do their best, to give it their all.
And his dad? Dial it back, Arthur. Make sure you're only slightly ahead of the others.
That’s when everything had started to come into focus for him. He was stronger than other kids his age. He knew what people were thinking, like he was in their head instead of his own. And not just with people, either.
And he didn’t hold his breath under water like other kids either. In fact, he breathed easier underwater. It was like a second skin.
He was a freak.
Was his mom a mutie? Is that why his dad wouldn’t talk about her?
...help, please...
His eyes were red. Tears streaking down and his nose running as he tilted his head back and looked up.
It was the same voice he’d heard at lunch. Only weaker. Struggling.
Dying
His eyes glowed as the boy’s gaze fixed on a point over the horizon. Dropping the hood back, the boy’s blonde hair flitted in the wind as he turned and shouted, “DAD, THERE’S SOMEONE ON THE REEF!”
From behind the wheel, the man stuck his head out of the pilot house as he questioned if he’d heard that correct. The reef? “WHAT!?” How in the hell could he know that? The reef wasn’t even visible from here.
“THERE’S SOMEONE ON THE REEF!”
Something he heard in Arthur’s voice made the decision for him. “HOLD ON!” he called, opening the throttle as the boat lurched forward as the power took hold and the man steered it toward the very danger the lighthouse was meant to warn sailors away from.
The orcas also appeared, sprays of exhaled mist shooting up as the pod swam on either side of the boat.
The reef and surrounding shoals were in view. And starting to get larger. Cutting the throttle, “TOO MANY ROCKS UNDER THE WATER. THIS IS AS CLOSE AS I CAN GET,”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Lord Vulko, Surface-Dwellers.”
Time was running out and still he had no answers. Orm likely had an army waiting for them, baiting the resistance into a battle on his terms. A battle they weren’t ready for, even if reinforcements came from Tritonis – which wasn’t a guarantee – they’d never arrive in time.
“Leucothea’s tits, what now?“ the greying figure swore, looking over to where the sentry pointed out a boat bobbing in the distance.
Time was running out and still he had no answers. Orm likely had an army waiting for them, baiting the resistance into a battle on his terms. A battle they weren’t ready for, even if reinforcements came from Tritonis – which wasn’t a guarantee – they’d never arrive in time.
“Leucothea’s tits, what now?“ the greying figure swore, looking over to where the sentry pointed out a boat bobbing in the distance.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Without even realizing it, the boy’s eyes were alight like sapphires on fire.
“I SEE HIM!” he called, pointing to where he could make out a small form atop the reef’s highest point above the water.
“I’LL CALL IT IN TO THE COAST GUARD STATION!” his father called back.
The Coast Guard? Not good enough. Arthur could feel that presence starting to slip away. “YOU’RE NOT GONNA LIKE THIS,” the boy announced, kicking off his shoes and shrugging his way out of the hoodie and t-shirt.
“WHAT WAS THAT?” Tom called, sticking his head out of the pilot house.
Breathe in.
Breathe out/
He was a freak. And he wasn’t holding anything back. “Get sendy,” he uttered to himself, as he crouched down.
Then he jumped.
The bow of the boat dipped sharply with the force, Tom colliding with the wheel as the stern came up out of the water for a moment.
As he watched, for a moment, the man could have believed that kids could fly.
The problem being that Arthur hadn’t put any thought to what came next. The exhilarating high of the altitude very quickly giving way to no shortage of questions as the sea began rushing toward him very quickly.
Then an orca breached, rising out of the water underneath him as if to catch him. The boy flailed around as he planted the landing. Which, if you had a massive W and planted the landing, but no one was around to see it, was it still an L?
Pushing off of Willy, the boy made a shorter hop that carried him to the dead corral outcropping that jutted up from the sea.
Now he could see who it was on the reef clearly. It was another boy. Grayish, almost scaly skin, but definitely a kid close in age to him. Snagged in what looked like a rusted anchor chain?
Arthur skipped the introductions and instead went straight to grabbing the chains. “I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’m doing,” he offered.
Pulling the chain, the links shattered in his hands as he stooped down to help the boy up.
Which was when dudes in funky glow-y suits started popping up out of the water.
It didn’t take Arthur more than a half-second to realize they weren’t friendly.
“I SEE HIM!” he called, pointing to where he could make out a small form atop the reef’s highest point above the water.
“I’LL CALL IT IN TO THE COAST GUARD STATION!” his father called back.
The Coast Guard? Not good enough. Arthur could feel that presence starting to slip away. “YOU’RE NOT GONNA LIKE THIS,” the boy announced, kicking off his shoes and shrugging his way out of the hoodie and t-shirt.
“WHAT WAS THAT?” Tom called, sticking his head out of the pilot house.
Breathe in.
Breathe out/
He was a freak. And he wasn’t holding anything back. “Get sendy,” he uttered to himself, as he crouched down.
Then he jumped.
The bow of the boat dipped sharply with the force, Tom colliding with the wheel as the stern came up out of the water for a moment.
As he watched, for a moment, the man could have believed that kids could fly.
The problem being that Arthur hadn’t put any thought to what came next. The exhilarating high of the altitude very quickly giving way to no shortage of questions as the sea began rushing toward him very quickly.
Then an orca breached, rising out of the water underneath him as if to catch him. The boy flailed around as he planted the landing. Which, if you had a massive W and planted the landing, but no one was around to see it, was it still an L?
Pushing off of Willy, the boy made a shorter hop that carried him to the dead corral outcropping that jutted up from the sea.
Now he could see who it was on the reef clearly. It was another boy. Grayish, almost scaly skin, but definitely a kid close in age to him. Snagged in what looked like a rusted anchor chain?
Arthur skipped the introductions and instead went straight to grabbing the chains. “I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’m doing,” he offered.
Pulling the chain, the links shattered in his hands as he stooped down to help the boy up.
Which was when dudes in funky glow-y suits started popping up out of the water.
It didn’t take Arthur more than a half-second to realize they weren’t friendly.
I was working with AI to create a comic panel as a visual insert for a moment in my upcoming post that I felt could really benefit from a graphic, and in the process of trying different models I wound up with this image of Arthur that I thought too cute not to share.
The model had a flatter color palette and a slightly more anime output than my usual one (which I wound up going back to in order to create the comic panel), and it doesn't do his mop of hair justice so I doubt I could use it in a post. But cute.
The model had a flatter color palette and a slightly more anime output than my usual one (which I wound up going back to in order to create the comic panel), and it doesn't do his mop of hair justice so I doubt I could use it in a post. But cute.
@Archangel89 what, if any, is the public knowledge of the Green Lantern Corps?
<Snipped quote by Master Bruce>
It was iconic.
MB: How can we help stress that this is a year 1 game?
Me: *Has The Flash almost lose to Condiment King*
Me: Does this help?
I mean, with Marvel folded in, I just assume Condiment King is yet another variant/alternate reality identity for Kang the Conqueror.
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