Captain Uni

Uni's Character Depository And Post Workshop

I S S U E # 3
I S S U E # 3

A L L T I M E L O W
A L L T I M E L O W

P A R T T H R E E
P A R T T H R E E

I sprint out of the room, leaving the battered and bruised bodies of Bobby and Billy behind. The hallway is dark save for a light at the end, the red glare of an exit sign. I race towards it as I hear more footsteps hammering down behind me. I look over my shoulder to see more of the jackal-headed orderlies running after me.

Rᴜɴ!

I gasp as I hear the voice but don't stop running. "K-Khonshu?"

Yᴇꜱ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏᴏʟ! Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ! Cʟɪᴍʙ, Mᴀʀᴄ! Gᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ!

I don't stop. I throw myself through the exit door and slam it shut. I look around for anything to block the door with, finding a large shelf that I toss in front of it. After a moment, a bang sounds, someone trying in vain to push past the brace to open the door. But it holds strong. They're not getting through just yet. I sigh in relief.

Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ɴᴏᴡ. Tʜᴇʏ'ʟʟ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ. I ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏꜰ, Mᴀʀᴄ.

Immediately I move to start walking up the stairs, only to falter as I remember what Crawley said: that I need to go deeper. I look to my right at the stairs leading down. It seems to be sapping the light out of the room, leading into an abyss.

Wʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ? Gᴇᴛ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ!

"Sorry old bird, but I trust Crawley a hell of a lot more than I trust you." With those words, I turn to the staircase leading down, and begin my descent. Khonshu screeches in my ear indignantly, but I try my best to block him out. As I go down, I can hear his voice fading away, along with the banging on the door. It hits me after a moment that the staircase hasn't turned to wrap around itself, it's just continuing on down into a pit.

I try to wrap my cape tighter around myself when I find that it's not on me anymore. My hands, once wrapped with the scrap pieces of fabric, are instead covered by white leather gloves. I look down at myself and find I'm dressed in a fine suit, shining white in the black void. "What the hell?"

A loud THUMP! sounds to my right and I find that I'm no longer in the void but rather back in the hospital. The lights are fully lit but no one else is around. I look at a door to my right that's slightly ajar and hear another thump from behind it. Cautiously, I open the door and step inside, finding a sarcophagus that's rocking back and forth.

^{_{"C'mon, let me out! For God's sake let me out!"}}

I recognize that voice, probably because it's my own. "JAKE!" I rush over to the coffin and force it open, grunting in exertion as I pull off the cover. A wave of relief washes over me as I see Jake beneath the cover. He looks up at me in awe. Wordlessly, I offer him a hand.

"Marc?" I nod. He grabs my hand and hauls himself out, groaning a bit. "Oy vey, that sucked ass..." I steady him as he steps out onto his own two feet. He looks at me for a moment, then gestures to my face. "What's, uh... What's this?"

"Huh?" I reach up and touch my face, finding that I'm wearing a mask. I take it off and look at it in my hands: white, featureless, with an embroidered crescent moon on the forehead. "I... Have no idea, honestly." I look back at Jake and find that he's holding back tears. "You good, Ja-" I'm caught off guard as he wraps his arms around me in a bear hug, holding me tight.

It's strange, being hugged by yourself, but it feels like a warm embrace from a loved one. He's like my brother, in a way. I wonder for a moment how long he's been wanting to do that. "Had no damn clue how I was gettin' out of that one, Marc... Thought I was done for. Then you show up lookin' like a reject comic book character, more than usual I mean, craziest drek I've ever seen..." He pulls away, looking me in the eyes with his hands still on my shoulders. His lips are quivering slightly but still held upwards in a grin. I smile and pat his arm. "Where the hell are we? And where's Steven?"

"I'm pretty sure that this is our mind... As for Steven, I don't know. I was lucky to find you." I look around the room. It's completely empty save for the sarcophagus, just beige walls and white tiled floor. "We should get out of here. We've got to find Steven."

Jake nods, "Don't gotta tell me twice." I turn back to the door, only to find that it's no longer a steel door with a windowpane like you'd find in a hospital but rather a thick wooden door with a simple bronze knocker. On the right hand side of the doorpost, right at eye level, is a mezuzah. I look back to Jake and see he's just as confused as I am, putting his hands up in the air to show he doesn't understand either.

"Alright... Let's see what's behind this door." I turn the handle and push it open.

We step into a hallway, one that I recognize instantly as my heart sinks into my stomach. To my right is a set of stairs, the edges of each step chipped and the wood scuffed. Hanging on either of the walls are photos of a family, my family: my father, my mother, my brother, and myself. Jake steps next to me and examines the photo as well. "... If you wanna go, we can find a way outta here."

"... This isn't real. This is just our mind. And I think we need to confront whatever is here if we want to find Steven and get back to the real world." I walk through the hall to the family room. There I find myself and Randall sitting on the couch, Rand slowly pulling a Jenga piece out of a precarious tower. It collapses, the pieces flying all over the table and floor with a loud CRASH!

"Oh no..." Randall looks at the fallen tower with a quivering pout.

"Hey, it's alright," my younger self says, wrapping an arm around his (our?) little brother. "That's just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes."

"Do I have to pick it up?" Randall asks, still upset.

"Nah, I got it. You wanna play Uno instead?" The younger me starts to pick up the pieces as Randall smiles.

"Yeah! I'm gonna beat you this time!" I wince slightly at Randall's volume. I know what's about to happen next. Jake places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

A booming voice calls out from upstairs, "What's with all the FUCKIN' SHOUTING!?" Even as a grown man, the voice still makes me shudder. I turn to look at the stairs as the dull thumping of footsteps beat down on them, and see him: Yitz Perlman. My father's loyal student of the Torah, a young man who was about ten years older than me and always babysat myself and Randall when my parents were out. That meant he took naps on the upstairs lounge's sofa and did bad things to us if we woke him up.

His eyes are full of sleep and his face is twisted into a scowl as he steps into the living room. "I thought I told you little fuckers that if you woke me up it'd be bad fuckin' news for both of you!" He points an accusatory finger at Randall. "You, fat boy, you the one that made that loud ass fuckin' noise and started yelling at the top of your fuckin' lungs?"

Randall's lips quiver and his eyes fill with tears that he's trying hard to fight back. Young Marc shakes his head and stands up. "No, it was me! I did it!"

"Oh, we playing fuckin' Spartacus around here? Fine. You're off the hook, lardass. Marc!" His finger shifts to point at the boy. "You're coming with me." Young me freezes as he locks eyes with Yitz. "I gotta tell you twice, retard? COME ON!" Like a well trained dog issued a command, he follows after Yitz.

Down into the basement.

I can feel my heart pounding, my blood pumping battery acid that burns my veins. My breathing is heavy and fast, too fast. Jake and I follow Yitz and myself down into the basement. Yitz stops halfway down and that causes my younger self to pause as well.

Then Yitz kicks him down the rest of the stairs.

I feel every bump, the edge of the wood cutting into my ribs and arms and legs and my head smashing into the concrete floor. Yitz cackles as he watches the fall. Then, he slams the door shut.

"Yitz! Yitz, please! I'm sorry!" the boy cries out. He gets no response. The basement was only used for storage, rarely ever ventured into. Yitz took all the light bulbs out of the sockets so it was enveloped in complete darkness. Young Marc curls up into a ball on the floor, scrapes on across his body bleeding slowly. He sobs.

"Hey, don't cry," a small voice says from the darkness. Marc looks up at the voice.

"Huh? W-who's there?"

"I'm a friend. Bloody hell, he did a number on you, huh?" A boy in a green sweater steps out from the darkness and sits down next to Marc. "Right muppet that chav is. Thinks he can just push everyone around like he's king of the world. He'll get his one day."

Marc sniffles. "You think so?"

The other boy smiles. "I know so. We'll show him, together."

"Who are you?"

"Like I said, I'm a friend. Best friend you'll ever have. You can call me Steven. Steven Grant." Steven extends a hand. Marc looks at it warily for a moment, then shakes it. "We're going to be good friends."

The boys fade away into mist. Darkness envelopes everything. I'm shaking. Tears are streaming down my face. Then I hear a banging sound, like the sarcophagus Jake was in being moved around. I look to my left and see another one before me, standing upright. I turn around to look behind me and find Jake standing there still, having stayed silent through that whole ordeal. "That should be our boy right there," he says, and I nod.

Together, the two of us pry the sarcophagus lid off and throw it to the floor. Beneath it is Steven, taking in a shuddering breath. He looks at the two of us with the most relieved expression I've ever seen on his (my own) face. "Oh thank God," he mumbles, before falling forward. Jake and I catch him and help him stay standing.

"Don't know how long I was in that damn casket. Thanks, lads." He wraps his arms around the two of us and we all squeeze each other, the three of us breathing a collective sigh of relief. We part, Steven pulling back to look at the two of us as he keeps a hand on each of our shoulders. "Good to see you two... Where in the hell are we?"

"Long story short, Grant, we're in our own head."

"Come again, Jake?"

"Trapped in our mind. Forced to relive our traumas and all that gut shtopn. We're still tryin' to find a way out."

I nod. "We've probably got a ways to go, but at least now we're together." I hear a door open behind me and the three of us all turn to look at it. In the void, a door frame has appeared, the door opening into blinding white light. I look at the two of them and we all nod together.

"Let's go."

We step into the light.

Absolute Comics: Odyssey [Invite Only]

I S S U E # 2
I S S U E # 2

A L L T I M E L O W
A L L T I M E L O W

P A R T T W O
P A R T T W O

My eyes open slowly. The pain sets in immediately, my head throbbing and soreness blossoming from my nose and ribs. The room is bright, fluorescent lamps hanging from the ceiling and drowning me in white light. I try to get up but I'm held back by restraints. I look around in a panic, finding myself in a room even more barren than the last, and see the two orderlies who beat on me. They've both got sick grins on their faces.

"Ready for your shock therapy, moon man?" Billy asks, sticking electrodes onto my forehead.

"Please, I'm not supposed to be here! I'm Moon Kni-MMPH!" Bobby sticks a gag into my mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, that's all you ever talk about, Spector," Bobby sighs, then flips the switch on the machine.

Agony. Electricity coursing through my skull, frying my brain. Thoughts slip away from me, my mind turning to mush as the currents pass through it. My body convulses, my back arching. I try to scream through the gag but it just comes out muffled. I can hear the two laughing as blackness takes me.

When I open my eyes again my vision is blurry. The light is dimmer than it was in the shock therapy room, making it easier for my eyes to adjust as I open them further. I can hear faint conversations and a news report playing on a TV. I'm sitting in a chair in some kind of living area, people milling around or sitting at tables. I look up towards the sound of the news report, seeing a TV mounted on a wall. My vision clears and I read the headline.

MOON KNIGHT FACES OFF AGAINST BLACK SPECTRE IN DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN

"- caught this footage of New York's favorite vigilante Moon Knight facing off against one of his many enemies, the ebony-clad Black Spectre. The two were duking it out on the street while a crowd watched on, but both fled before the authorities could arrive. Despite our station reaching out to them for a statement, the NYPD has made no comment on the event."

A voice chimes in from nearby, "Careful there, my boy. That refuse will putrefy your brain, moreso than that shock therapy they love to dole out around here." I look over to see an old man with a craggy face and shoulder-length gray hair standing a few feet away from me. He turns to me and smiles with a grin missing several teeth. "It's all part of the lie, anyhow. Pure fabrication."

I realize that I recognize him. "Crawley...?"

Crawley's smile widens. "Ah, I see you remember me. That's good."

"What are you doing here? What am I doing here?"

"You see, we're here because someone with great power wants to control you. Erase you. Supplant you. But if I know you, Jake, I know you'll fight like hell to free yourself."

Jake. Oh God, where's Jake? And Steven? I can't feel them, can't hear them. My heart starts pounding. After a moment, I take in a breath to steady myself, then look back at Crawley. "It's Marc right now, Crawley. I... I don't know where Jake is. Or Steven."

"I see. You're being broken down. Divide and conquer. Easier to erase your being when they do that. Don't worry, my boy. You'll find Jake and Steven."

I pause and look around the room. "So this place, it's... It's not real?" It feels real.

"It's all in your mind, Marc. These walls, this place. It is a tomb. Notice the lack of windows? That's because you are buried."

"How do I get out?"

"One might think you'd need to climb out, but the truth is, you need to go deeper."

I'm mulling over Crawley's response when a door opens. A few patients step through it, heading back to their rooms. A woman with glasses and red hair up in a bun stands in the doorway. She wears a plastic smile and holds a clipboard. "Alright, Group G, time for art therapy."

"That's us, Marc." Crawley makes his way into the room. A few others follow after him: Frenchie, Gena, Marlene. They're all here. What the hell have I gotten them into? I consider whether to play along or try to break out right now, and after a moment decide to do the former for the time being. I stand up and head into the room.

It's a small room with a circular table in the center and six chairs surrounding it. The walls are adorned with sheets of paper either coated in watery paints or covered in drawings composed of crayons and markers. On the table is a stack of blank paper and art supplies, paints and brushes and crayons and markers. My friends and the doctor all take seats at the table. After hesitating for a moment, I take my seat next to Crawley and the doctor.

"Alright everyone, today we're going to do something simple. I'm going to give you free rein to use any of these art supplies to draw one thing: your happiest moment. It could be anything, as long as it's something that you hold onto preciously. You'll have 20 minutes to draw. At the end, we'll present them and explain what we drew. Sound good?"

Gena raises her hand. The doctor points at her to say her piece. "Will you be playing music for us, Dr. Emmet?" So that's her name.

Dr. Emmet smiles. "Of course, Gena. Here, I'll play your favorite song to start." She pulls out her phone and pulls up Spotify, then plays a song. Instantly the melody brings back Jake's memories of late nights in Gena's diner, sipping coffee and eating flapjacks as that same song played. Gena loved to play it on the jukebox whenever business was slow.

I shake off the memory as everyone gets to work. After a moment I get to work on my drawing as well, grabbing a black marker. It's all I'd need. We continue our work, the only sound the ever evolving soundscape reflecting the taste of those at the table. RnB for Gena, 70s rock for Crawley, French pop and dance for Frenchie, 2000s pop rock for Marlene. Nothing for me though.

Eventually, a timer sounds off and Dr. Emmet stops the music. "Alright, let's see what everyone drew. Why don't you start us off, Gena?"

Gena lifts her page and shows everyone the drawing. It's a drawing utilizing a wide array of colors, pinks and blues and reds and greens and everything in between. It depicts her in stick figure form standing in front of her diner with two smaller figures. Her boys? "That's lovely Gena. Is that where you used to work?"

Gena smiles. "Yes ma'am. This is the day I opened my diner with my baby boys Raymond and Richard. I had worked so hard to do it, saved up all the money I made to be able to open my own business."

"I think I speak for all of us when I say I'm very proud of you, Gena. I'm sure your boys are too." Gena's smile lessens at that, but she nods. Dr. Emmet looks over to Crawley. "Okay Bertrand, it's your turn."

Crawley presents his drawing. It's more subdued, only black marker on white paper. It's a few stick figures sitting in a circle. I'm not quite sure what it is. Dr. Emmet seems just as confused but doesn't falter. "What does your drawing represent?"

"Why, it's my first time leading an AA meeting. I was getting into social work before I found myself here." Crawley grins.

"I didn't know that about you, Bertrand. That's very admirable. Admitting you have a problem is a hard thing to do."

"Admitting I had a drinking problem was years ago. Helping others admit it was a more recent development."

Dr. Emmet looks over to Frenchie. "Jean-Paul, what did you draw?" Frenchie lifts his paper and shows it off. It's far more developed than either Gena's or Crawley's, actual shapes and well-defined lines instead of stick figures, depicting Frenchie and a man sitting at a table together. "Oh my, that's very well drawn. What does it depict?"

"Zis is my first date with zee man who would become my husband, Robert," Frenchie says. It hits me like a sucker punch. Frenchie got married? To a man, no less? I didn't even know that he was gay. We didn't have any secrets between us, so why would he keep that from me? Did he feel like he needed to hide it? I don't even know what to think.

"Beautiful, Jean-Paul. You have a future as an artist."

"Ah, no, no... It is just a hobby." Frenchie sighs, then looks back to Dr. Emmet. "You may move on."

Dr. Emmet looks to Marlene next. "Alright then. Marlene, what have you drawn?" Marlene shows us her page. My eyes widen. It's half-way between Gena and Crawley's stick figures and Frenchie's well-detailed drawing, the art depicting Marlene holding a baby in her arms. "Is that your child?" Dr. Emmet asks.

"This is the day my daughter Diatrice was born," Marlene says.

The floor drops out beneath me when I hear that. A daughter. Marlene has a daughter. Am I the father? Dr. Emmet smiles and nods at Marlene. "How old is she now?"

"Fourteen months. She said her first word right before I came here. It was 'Moon'." As I listen, I can feel tears pricking at my eyes. I take in a shuddering breath and wipe them away before anyone notices.

"How precious." Dr. Emmet turns to me, not seeming to notice the flurry of emotions running through me. "Last but not least: Marc, are you ready to show us what you drew?"

I nod, then lift my page to show everyone. It depicts the statue of Khonshu in the tomb, the moon shining above and a stick figure meant to be myself beneath it. It's funny. The happiest day of my life was the day I died. The day I became a weapon for a god.

Dr. Emmet frowns. "Marc, what did I tell you about this?"

I'm not sure what she means. "About what?"

"This, Marc." She gestures to the drawing. "Khonshu, Moon Knight, all of it. It's regressive. Dwelling on those fantasies just holds you back from seeing your treatment through." She reaches out and yanks the drawing from my hands, crumpling it up. "No more of this." She stands and walks over to a bin to toss it in.

I'm stunned, unsure how to react. I look over at the others at the table: Crawley is frowning, but the others have glassy looks in their eyes, seeming far away after seeing that. Then I realize that Dr. Emmet isn't looking at me right now. Thinking fast, I grab the black marker I was using and a pencil, keeping them held tight in my hand and lowering it below the table so she can't see. No one comments on it.

Dr. Emmet steps back over to the table but doesn't sit. She grabs her clipboard and pulls a pen from her shirt pocket, marking things off. "Save for that last bit, I believe this was a very productive session. I'm glad I got you all thinking about good times in your lives. Focusing on the good times will help you in your treatment." She looks back at us and smiles. "That's group. You all can head back to your rooms now, it's almost time for lights out."

She heads over to the door and opens it, allowing us to step outside. I'm the last one out, locking gazes with Dr. Emmet as I'm leaving. Her eyes are soulless, belying her pleasant demeanor. She's not human. She's a monster. I need to be able to See her true form, the true form of the orderlies as well.

I make my way back into my room and sit on the bed, waiting. The lights in the hallway go out after about twenty minutes. I grab the marker and the pencil off the bedside table and get to work, grabbing the stark white bed sheet and pillow cases. I use the pencil to tear open holes in one of the pillow cases for me to see out of, then use the marker to draw Khonshu's symbol of the crescent moon onto it. I tear the other pillow case into strips that I wrap around my hands. I slide the pillow case mask over my head and tie the bed sheet around my neck.

Then, I scream.

I scream as loud and long as I can, continuing until I hear the hammering of running footsteps from down the hall. I clench my fists and wait. The door bursts open and Billy and Bobby step through, looking furious. "Goddammit Spector, what the fuck are you screaming about... Now?" Billy trails off as he sees my get up.

"Nothing. Just wanted to get your attention. I wanted to see your true faces..." I see now that they're not human, just like I suspected. They're beasts with jackal heads and claws, and they look terrified as they take in my form. I bask in their fear. "... So I could pound the living shit out of them."

"Uh oh, Billy."

"Uh oh is right, Bobby."

I leap forward with a raised fist. "Knight knight."

Uni's Character Depository And Post Workshop

I S S U E # 2
I S S U E # 2

A L L T I M E L O W
A L L T I M E L O W

P A R T T W O
P A R T T W O

My eyes open slowly. The pain sets in immediately, my head throbbing and soreness blossoming from my nose and ribs. The room is bright, fluorescent lamps hanging from the ceiling and drowning me in white light. I try to get up but I'm held back by restraints. I look around in a panic, finding myself in a room even more barren than the last, and see the two orderlies who beat on me. They've both got sick grins on their faces.

"Ready for your shock therapy, moon man?" Billy asks, sticking electrodes onto my forehead.

"Please, I'm not supposed to be here! I'm Moon Kni-MMPH!" Bobby sticks a gag into my mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, that's all you ever talk about, Spector," Bobby sighs, then flips the switch on the machine.

Agony. Electricity coursing through my skull, frying my brain. Thoughts slip away from me, my mind turning to mush as the currents pass through it. My body convulses, my back arching. I try to scream through the gag but it just comes out muffled. I can hear the two laughing as blackness takes me.

When I open my eyes again my vision is blurry. The light is dimmer than it was in the shock therapy room, making it easier for my eyes to adjust as I open them further. I can hear faint conversations and a news report playing on a TV. I'm sitting in a chair in some kind of living area, people milling around or sitting at tables. I look up towards the sound of the news report, seeing a TV mounted on a wall. My vision clears and I read the headline.

MOON KNIGHT FACES OFF AGAINST BLACK SPECTRE IN DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN

"- caught this footage of New York's favorite vigilante Moon Knight facing off against one of his many enemies, the ebony-clad Black Spectre. The two were duking it out on the street while a crowd watched on, but both fled before the authorities could arrive. Despite our station reaching out to them for a statement, the NYPD has made no comment on the event."

A voice chimes in from nearby, "Careful there, my boy. That refuse will putrefy your brain, moreso than that shock therapy they love to dole out around here." I look over to see an old man with a craggy face and shoulder-length gray hair standing a few feet away from me. He turns to me and smiles with a grin missing several teeth. "It's all part of the lie, anyhow. Pure fabrication."

I realize that I recognize him. "Crawley...?"

Crawley's smile widens. "Ah, I see you remember me. That's good."

"What are you doing here? What am I doing here?"

"You see, we're here because someone with great power wants to control you. Erase you. Supplant you. But if I know you, Jake, I know you'll fight like hell to free yourself."

Jake. Oh God, where's Jake? And Steven? I can't feel them, can't hear them. My heart starts pounding. After a moment, I take in a breath to steady myself, then look back at Crawley. "It's Marc right now, Crawley. I... I don't know where Jake is. Or Steven."

"I see. You're being broken down. Divide and conquer. Easier to erase your being when they do that. Don't worry, my boy. You'll find Jake and Steven."

I pause and look around the room. "So this place, it's... It's not real?" It feels real.

"It's all in your mind, Marc. These walls, this place. It is a tomb. Notice the lack of windows? That's because you are buried."

"How do I get out?"

"One might think you'd need to climb out, but the truth is, you need to go deeper."

I'm mulling over Crawley's response when a door opens. A few patients step through it, heading back to their rooms. A woman with glasses and red hair up in a bun stands in the doorway. She wears a plastic smile and holds a clipboard. "Alright, Group G, time for art therapy."

"That's us, Marc." Crawley makes his way into the room. A few others follow after him: Frenchie, Gena, Marlene. They're all here. What the hell have I gotten them into? I consider whether to play along or try to break out right now, and after a moment decide to do the former for the time being. I stand up and head into the room.

It's a small room with a circular table in the center and six chairs surrounding it. The walls are adorned with sheets of paper either coated in watery paints or covered in drawings composed of crayons and markers. On the table is a stack of blank paper and art supplies, paints and brushes and crayons and markers. My friends and the doctor all take seats at the table. After hesitating for a moment, I take my seat next to Crawley and the doctor.

"Alright everyone, today we're going to do something simple. I'm going to give you free rein to use any of these art supplies to draw one thing: your happiest moment. It could be anything, as long as it's something that you hold onto preciously. You'll have 20 minutes to draw. At the end, we'll present them and explain what we drew. Sound good?"

Gena raises her hand. The doctor points at her to say her piece. "Will you be playing music for us, Dr. Emmet?" So that's her name.

Dr. Emmet smiles. "Of course, Gena. Here, I'll play your favorite song to start." She pulls out her phone and pulls up Spotify, then plays a song. Instantly the melody brings back Jake's memories of late nights in Gena's diner, sipping coffee and eating flapjacks as that same song played. Gena loved to play it on the jukebox whenever business was slow.

I shake off the memory as everyone gets to work. After a moment I get to work on my drawing as well, grabbing a black marker. It's all I'd need. We continue our work, the only sound the ever evolving soundscape reflecting the taste of those at the table. RnB for Gena, 70s rock for Crawley, French pop and dance for Frenchie, 2000s pop rock for Marlene. Nothing for me though.

Eventually, a timer sounds off and Dr. Emmet stops the music. "Alright, let's see what everyone drew. Why don't you start us off, Gena?"

Gena lifts her page and shows everyone the drawing. It's a drawing utilizing a wide array of colors, pinks and blues and reds and greens and everything in between. It depicts her in stick figure form standing in front of her diner with two smaller figures. Her boys? "That's lovely Gena. Is that where you used to work?"

Gena smiles. "Yes ma'am. This is the day I opened my diner with my baby boys Raymond and Richard. I had worked so hard to do it, saved up all the money I made to be able to open my own business."

"I think I speak for all of us when I say I'm very proud of you, Gena. I'm sure your boys are too." Gena's smile lessens at that, but she nods. Dr. Emmet looks over to Crawley. "Okay Bertrand, it's your turn."

Crawley presents his drawing. It's more subdued, only black marker on white paper. It's a few stick figures sitting in a circle. I'm not quite sure what it is. Dr. Emmet seems just as confused but doesn't falter. "What does your drawing represent?"

"Why, it's my first time leading an AA meeting. I was getting into social work before I found myself here." Crawley grins.

"I didn't know that about you, Bertrand. That's very admirable. Admitting you have a problem is a hard thing to do."

"Admitting I had a drinking problem was years ago. Helping others admit it was a more recent development."

Dr. Emmet looks over to Frenchie. "Jean-Paul, what did you draw?" Frenchie lifts his paper and shows it off. It's far more developed than either Gena's or Crawley's, actual shapes and well-defined lines instead of stick figures, depicting Frenchie and a man sitting at a table together. "Oh my, that's very well drawn. What does it depict?"

"Zis is my first date with zee man who would become my husband, Robert," Frenchie says. It hits me like a sucker punch. Frenchie got married? To a man, no less? I didn't even know that he was gay. We didn't have any secrets between us, so why would he keep that from me? Did he feel like he needed to hide it? I don't even know what to think.

"Beautiful, Jean-Paul. You have a future as an artist."

"Ah, no, no... It is just a hobby." Frenchie sighs, then looks back to Dr. Emmet. "You may move on."

Dr. Emmet looks to Marlene next. "Alright then. Marlene, what have you drawn?" Marlene shows us her page. My eyes widen. It's half-way between Gena and Crawley's stick figures and Frenchie's well-detailed drawing, the art depicting Marlene holding a baby in her arms. "Is that your child?" Dr. Emmet asks.

"This is the day my daughter Diatrice was born," Marlene says.

The floor drops out beneath me when I hear that. A daughter. Marlene has a daughter. Am I the father? Dr. Emmet smiles and nods at Marlene. "How old is she now?"

"Fourteen months. She said her first word right before I came here. It was 'Moon'." As I listen, I can feel tears pricking at my eyes. I take in a shuddering breath and wipe them away before anyone notices.

"How precious." Dr. Emmet turns to me, not seeming to notice the flurry of emotions running through me. "Last but not least: Marc, are you ready to show us what you drew?"

I nod, then lift my page to show everyone. It depicts the statue of Khonshu in the tomb, the moon shining above and a stick figure meant to be myself beneath it. It's funny. The happiest day of my life was the day I died. The day I became a weapon for a god.

Dr. Emmet frowns. "Marc, what did I tell you about this?"

I'm not sure what she means. "About what?"

"This, Marc." She gestures to the drawing. "Khonshu, Moon Knight, all of it. It's regressive. Dwelling on those fantasies just holds you back from seeing your treatment through." She reaches out and yanks the drawing from my hands, crumpling it up. "No more of this." She stands and walks over to a bin to toss it in.

I'm stunned, unsure how to react. I look over at the others at the table: Crawley is frowning, but the others have glassy looks in their eyes, seeming far away after seeing that. Then I realize that Dr. Emmet isn't looking at me right now. Thinking fast, I grab the black marker I was using and a pencil, keeping them held tight in my hand and lowering it below the table so she can't see. No one comments on it.

Dr. Emmet steps back over to the table but doesn't sit. She grabs her clipboard and pulls a pen from her shirt pocket, marking things off. "Save for that last bit, I believe this was a very productive session. I'm glad I got you all thinking about good times in your lives. Focusing on the good times will help you in your treatment." She looks back at us and smiles. "That's group. You all can head back to your rooms now, it's almost time for lights out."

She heads over to the door and opens it, allowing us to step outside. I'm the last one out, locking gazes with Dr. Emmet as I'm leaving. Her eyes are soulless, belying her pleasant demeanor. She's not human. She's a monster. I need to be able to See her true form, the true form of the orderlies as well.

I make my way back into my room and sit on the bed, waiting. The lights in the hallway go out after about twenty minutes. I grab the marker and the pencil off the bedside table and get to work, grabbing the stark white bed sheet and pillow cases. I use the pencil to tear open holes in one of the pillow cases for me to see out of, then use the marker to draw Khonshu's symbol of the crescent moon onto it. I tear the other pillow case into strips that I wrap around my hands. I slide the pillow case mask over my head and tie the bed sheet around my neck.

Then, I scream.

I scream as loud and long as I can, continuing until I hear the hammering of running footsteps from down the hall. I clench my fists and wait. The door bursts open and Billy and Bobby step through, looking furious. "Goddammit Spector, what the fuck are you screaming about... Now?" Billy trails off as he sees my get up.

"Nothing. Just wanted to get your attention. I wanted to see your true faces..." I see now that they're not human, just like I suspected. They're beasts with jackal heads and claws, and they look terrified as they take in my form. I bask in their fear. "... So I could pound the living shit out of them."

"Uh oh, Billy."

"Uh oh is right, Bobby."

I leap forward with a raised fist. "Knight knight!"

Absolute Comics: Odyssey [Invite Only]

I S S U E # 1
I S S U E # 1

A L L T I M E L O W
A L L T I M E L O W

P A R T O N E
P A R T O N E

When I wake up I feel a throbbing ache in my guts and whimper in pain. Clutching at my stomach as I pull myself to my feet, I look around to find that there's nothing around me but dunes of sand. After a few moments I begin to take steps forward, stumbling through the endless desert. I look up to see a starry night sky, the full moon gazing down on me and providing me with light to travel by.

Am I dreaming? I can't tell.

I don't even realize until I'm standing at the foot of a statue that I've found my way to a massive temple, the structure dwarfing me. I feel a strange tightness in my chest as I look at the statue, a swirl of emotions running through me that finally settles on contentment despite the pain clawing through my stomach. This is the face of my father. This temple is my home.

^{_{Mᴀʀᴄ, ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ?}}

"Yes father," I whisper.

^{_{Cᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ, ᴍʏ ꜱᴏɴ.}}

I make my way into the temple, one hand still clutching my stomach as I trace the walls with the other hand, my fingers sliding over hieroglyphs depicting a hooded man facing off against numerous adversaries. Memories slowly trickle into my mind, flashes of white cloth and red blood, fleeting moments of peace and endless times of violence. My brain throbs, seeming to reject the information being fed into it.

^{Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ, Mᴀʀᴄ. Kᴇᴇᴘ ɢᴏɪɴɢ.}

The voice makes me press on further despite the pain. I keep moving forward through the halls of the temple before I find myself standing before a stone door with a crescent moon carved into its face. I can feel my father behind it. Without a moment of hesitation, I push the door open and step through into a white void.

Hᴇʟʟᴏ, ᴍʏ ꜱᴏɴ.

The pain increases and I find myself falling to my knees before him. "Khonshu... Whole body is on fire. Feels like I'm dying..."

Tʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ.

"Don't wanna die... Hurts..."

Tᴏ ʙᴇ ʀᴇʙᴏʀɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴅɪᴇ. Bᴜᴛ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ʀᴇʙᴏʀɴ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ.

Khonshu reaches out a hand and presses a finger against my forehead.

"I can't watch you do this to yourself, mon ami."

"You made me hideous. I'm going to kill you, Moon Knight."

"I'm taking her with me. Don't try to contact us. Ever."

"Gonna gut you like a pig, Spector."

"KHONSHU! IS THIS ENOUGH!?"

"AAAHHHHHHH!" I jolt awake, looking around me in a frenzy trying to figure out where the hell I am. The walls are beige and the room is spartan, only a bed and a small table beside it. It's completely unfamiliar. I'm laying on the floor with a blanket tangled around me. I fight to get out of it and as soon as I escape its grasp the door to the room opens.

Two men step inside, a white man with a ginger mullet and glasses and a black man with an afro and a beard. They're both big guys, not body builders but beefy enough. They're dressed in hospital scrubs, white as the snow. "The hell are you screamin' about now, Spector?" the one with the afro asks.

"Gonna wake up the whole damn ward, you keep yelling like that," the one with the glasses adds.

"Please, I don't know where I am! You need to help me!" I plead, looking up at them.

"Hear that, Billy? He needs help."

"I hear him, Bobby. Here Spector." Billy picks me up by the shoulder. "Let me give you some help."

He sends a fist into my face and blood spurts out of my nose as I fall to the ground in a heap. I groan in pain, turning over to look up at them. Billy looks at the splatter of blood adorning his shirt and sighs. "Shit, Spector, you got blood all over my scrubs. What I tell you about making a mess?"

Bobby kicks me in the stomach and I yelp, clutching at my guts. "Khonshu, please..."

"Con-shoe? The fuck is a con-shoe?"

"Never heard of it. Think our man here is a little confused. Maybe he needs some extra medicine to help him sleep." I look up to see Billy producing a syringe from his pocket. He steps up to me and grabs me in a chokehold, squeezing tight.

I try to croak out, "No... No, don't..." He sticks the needle in my bicep and injects. My whole body suddenly feels like a bag of cement and my vision begins to go dark.

"Night night, Spector."

"Knight... _Knight..."

Uni's Character Depository And Post Workshop

Complete MK CS

M R . K N I G H T
M R . K N I G H T

^{"Welcome to the Midnight Mission. My name is Mister Knight. How can I help?"}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ Marc Spector Steven Grant Jake Lockley _________________________________________________________ 31 | Single _________________________________________________________ The Midnight Mission | Jewish-American A L L I E S & A N T A G O N I S T S A L L I E S & A N T A G O N I S T S _________________________________________________________ [+] A L L I E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ DR. ANDREA STERMAN - Marc's therapist. ◼ REESE WILLIAMS - A young woman turned into a vampire against her will by the Structure who serves as the receptionist for the Midnight Mission. (Upcoming) ◼ "SOLDIER" - A former soldier who left the life behind to care for his mother. (Upcoming) ◼ DR. YEHYA BADR/HUNTER'S MOON - "Ally" is a dubious term. The other Fist of Khonshu, an Egyptian doctor who operates a clinic in the Wedge. (Upcoming) ◼ GREER GRANT NELSON/TIGRA - A half-human half-feline vigilante and occult investigator. (Upcoming) A N T A G O N I S T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ KHONSHU - Marc's former patron, trapped in the Overvoid by Marc's own hand. ◼ KENNETH RICHMOND/TUTOR - The head of the Structure, a rising power in the vampiric world with chapters all over the country. (Upcoming) ◼ ZODIAC - A man without a name, without a past, with only one purpose: breaking Moon Knight. (Upcoming) F O R M E R A L L I E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ JEAN-PAUL "FRENCHIE" DUCHAMP - Marc's former best friend and pilot. Currently lives in New York City running a restaurant with his husband. ◼ MARLENE ALRAUNE - Marc's former lover and the mother of his daughter, Diatrice. Currently lives in California. ◼ GENA LANDERS - An old friend of Marc's that he cut off after his fall from grace. Currently lives in New York City, still running her diner. ◼ BERTRAND CRAWLEY - An old wino and former informant of Marc's who Marc cut off after his fall from grace. Currently lives in New York City, leading AA meetings while still bumming around Gena's in his free time. Characters I Have My Eye On For Future Arcs Vic Sage/The Question Helena Bertinelli/Huntress Count Dracula Jack Russell/Werewolf By Night - P O S T C A T A L O G U E P O S T C A T A L O G U E _________________________________________________________ Issue #1 - All Time Low, Part 1 -

T H E S T O R Y S O F A R... T H E S T O R Y S O F A R... ___________________________________________________________________________________ Marc's life began in Hub City where he was raised by his father, a rabbi at the local synagogue who tried to teach him to abhor violence. As a boy, he developed Dissociative Identity Disorder, forming the alters of Steven Grant and Jake Lockley, and at the age of 12 he was interred at Putnam Psychiatric Hospital in rural Illinois. At the age of 19, Marc's father passed away, and he was allowed to leave the hospital to attend the funeral and sit shiva at his childhood home. That evening, he escaped from the window in his bedroom and disappeared into the night. Enlisting in the Marine Corps, Marc served a tour in the People's Republic of Sin-Cong, fighting in the Sin-Cong War which had been going on for ten years at that point with no end in sight. He was a decent enough soldier, but he experienced episodes where he would wander off in the middle of the night, hearing a voice calling to him from the moon. After a particularly bad episode where he was found wandering in a minefield without any clothes on, his superiors looked into his past and discovered his time at Putnam. They dishonorably discharged him and were going to put him on a plane back to the States. He did the obvious thing and went AWOL. Wandering throughout the world for a while, serving as a gun for hire and partaking in underground fight rings, Marc was eventually found by Jean-Paul "Frenchie" DuChamp, a fellow mercenary that partnered up with him. During this time they also met a woman named Layla El-Faouly, who would become Marc's lover. The trio spent several years fighting together throughout the world, from the Middle East to Africa to South America and everywhere in between. During a job in Syria, Layla was killed, leading Marc on a downward spiral that ended with him and Frenchie being contracted by Raoul Bushman, a leader of a mercenary group that were planning to hit a dig site on the Sudanese-Egyptian border. Frenchie was hesitant to accept a job from the man, knowing of his reputation, but Marc only saw the dollar signs. They joined up with him and set out for the dig site. There they found that a great tomb had been unearthed, the excavation team led by a man named Dr. Peter Alraune and his daughter Marlene. Dr. Alraune pleaded with the mercenaries not to disturb the dig site and was gutted by Bushman in response. Marc snapped out of his selfish stupor and found himself sucker punching Bushman, and in response Bushman beat him half to death and left him to die after looting the tomb and executing the dig crew save for Marlene. Marc crawled his way into the tomb, finding himself beneath a statue of the god Kʜᴏɴꜱʜᴜ. Marc died in the tomb. Rɪꜱᴇ, ᴍʏ Fɪꜱᴛ. And then he lived again. Donning a white robe, he set out after Bushman's mercenaries, finding his way to a town they were ransacking and rescuing Frenchie and Marlene. He took out the mercenaries but found that Bushman was gone. The three of them made their way back to America, finding themselves in New York City where Marc used the resources that he had Steven save in offshore accounts to purchase a manor and set himself up as the vigilante known as Moon Knight, Khonshu's Fist of Vengeance. For four years, Marc operated as Moon Knight, falling in love with Marlene and battling many foes, such as the Midnight Man, Stained Glass Scarlet, Morpheus and Black Spectre. His most enduring foe was of course Bushman, who Marc squared off with many times over the years. As time went on, Marc found himself becoming more and more brutal thanks to Khonshu's influence. At first he acted as a heroic figure, only using as much force as necessary to take someone down, but eventually he found himself crippling and maiming his opponents. He tried his best not to kill anyone, but it was clear he was getting closer to doing so. Then that night finally came. A year and a half ago, he had another encounter with Bushman, one that pushed the vigilante to his limits. The two squared off on the rooftops of Manhattan and Bushman managed to send Marc over the edge of a building to fall into an alley. Marc's legs were broken and Khonshu was crying for vengeance, for violence. When Marc managed to get the upper hand by flinging a crescent dart into Bushman's eye, he got on top of the sadistic mercenary and used a crescent dart to carve off Bushman's face, presenting it to Khonshu as tribute. It wasn't the first time that Marc Spector had killed a man, but it was the first time that Moon Knight had. Marc was horrified with what he had done and shut himself out from the world, hiding in his manor. He drove away his friends and Marlene, saying things he could never take back so that they would leave him behind. Marlene took their newborn daughter Diatrice and left for California, while Frenchie found love and opened a restaurant with his new partner. Wallowing in his now empty home, listening to Khonshu for a year straight, Marc finally decided that he was done with the vengeful god and checked himself into a mental hospital, hoping to drown Khonshu out with drugs. That was when Khonshu tried to take over Marc's mind. Trapped in a mental world, one where minutes seemed like days, Marc found himself in an archaic mental hospital where he was beaten and subjected to excessive electric shock therapy. All of his friends were there, and after sorting through his trauma and accepting himself for who he was, he realized what was going on: Khonshu was trying to push him out of his body and take over. Confronting the god, Marc broke Khonshu's influence over him, severing their connection. When he came to back in the real world, only an hour had passed. Marc stayed in the hospital for a month and then was released. Revitalized, Marc returned to his hometown of Hub City, deciding to operate under a new alias: Mister Knight. He opened the Midnight Mission, a place where the downtrodden could come to him with their problems and he could solve them. Together with Steven and Jake, Marc is ready to begin a new chapter of his life, where the three of them can be their own man. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) __________________________________________________________________________________ With my initial arc wrapped up, I'm now ready to interact with the larger world and crossover with other players. Marc will primarily be operating in Hub City and will occasionally travel across the country to deal with other problems, be they mundane or supernatural. I do have some arcs planned focusing on characters and organizations such as Hunter's Moon, Zodiac, The Structure, and Count Dracula, but most of those will still be open to interaction from whoever wants to play ball with me.

_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

^{"I'm the one you're supposed to see coming."___}

Absolute Comics: Odyssey [Invite Only]

M O O N K N I G H T ( ? )
M O O N K N I G H T ( ? )

^{"I can't remember how I got here... Feels like I'm missing chunks of my brain."}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ Marc Spector Steven Grant Jake Lockley _________________________________________________________ 31 | Taken (?) _________________________________________________________ N/A | Jewish-American A L L I E S & A N T A G O N I S T S A L L I E S & A N T A G O N I S T S _________________________________________________________ [+] A L L I E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ KHONSHU - Marc's patron, or maybe just a hallucination. ◼ JEAN-PAUL "FRENCHIE" DUCHAMP - Marc's best friend and pilot, or maybe another patient in the hospital. ◼ MARLENE ALRAUNE - Marc's lover, or maybe another patient he has a crush on. ◼ GENA LANDERS - A diner owner and friend of Jake's, or maybe another patient who misses her old job. ◼ BERTRAND CRAWLEY - A local wino and friend of Jake's, or maybe another patient who's been in the hospital longer than Marc. A N T A G O N I S T S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ DR. EMMET - Marc's psychiatrist. ◼ BILLY AND BOBBY - Two orderlies that regularly beat on Marc. Characters I Have My Eye On For Future Arcs Vic Sage/The Question Helena Bertinelli/Huntress Count Dracula Jack Russell/Werewolf By Night - P O S T C A T A L O G U E P O S T C A T A L O G U E _________________________________________________________ [+] V O L 1 : R E B O R N ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Issue #1 - All Time Low, Part 1 Issue #2 - All Time Low, Part 2 Issue #3 - All Time Low, Part 3 Issue #4 - All Time Low, Part 4 -

T H E S T O R Y S O F A R... T H E S T O R Y S O F A R... ___________________________________________________________________________________ For five years, Marc Spector has been Moon Knight, the Fist of Khonshu and protector of the overnight travelers. He has a loyal crew of friends consisting of pilot Jean-Paul "Frenchie" DuChamp, lover Marlene Alraune, diner owner Gena Landers and informant Bertrand Crawley, people who will stick by him through thick and thin and provide support for his crusade. With the help of his alters, multi-millionaire entrepreneur Steven Grant and cab driver Jake Lockley, Marc watches over New York City. He has his flaws and troubles, but he's made a life for himself, one that he's happy with. Marc Spector is Moon Knight. Or is he? Waking up in a psych ward with foggy memories of his life as a superhero, Marc finds himself faced with TV reports of a Moon Knight out in NYC who's not him and finds that everyone from his former life is also locked up in the hospital with him. The orderlies regularly beat him and subject him to excessive electric shock therapy while his psychiatrist Dr. Emmet confronts him with the reality that he's been in Putnam Psychiatric Hospital since he was 12. He doesn't know what to believe anymore. Marc Spector is insane. P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) __________________________________________________________________________________ Jumping forward farther along in Marc's career than my last Moon Knight run, my initial arc is going to be a reimagining of Jeff Lemire's seminal run on Moon Knight from 2016 which reconstructed the character and greatly altered his status quo (and was subsequently ignored by the godawful Bemis run immediately after). This is a Moon Knight who's already established but doesn't remember any of his career and is faced with the dilemma that he may not have even been Moon Knight at all. Through his journey in the mental hospital and flashbacks to the life that he thinks he lived, I hope to examine Marc, Steven and Jake's characters and explore not only their actions as Moon Knight but also their relationship with each other and the people in their lives.

_{__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________}

^{Cᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ, Mᴀʀᴄ?___}

Worlds Collide: A Merged Universe Superhero Roleplay

I've taken some time at work today to think this over and I think it's in my best interest to also withdraw from the roleplay. Godspeed you crazy bastards.

Worlds Collide: A Merged Universe Superhero Roleplay

[snipped tag] Only immediate thing i have to do is Bailey meeting Simm for a training montage and then i'm all good to go for that.

Also, i'm writing up the Lantern character sheet now. I'm hoping for Hal and Sinestro to maybe make an appearance... And if there's time enough to introduce Dex-Starr, i kinda want him to show up In a dapper lil' tux.

@mattmanganon

Uni's Character Depository And Post Workshop

"I am Marc Spector. I am Steven Grant. I am Jake Lockley. And we are going to be okay. We are going to live with who we are. We are Moon Knight. And we never needed you."

Worlds Collide: A Merged Universe Superhero Roleplay

And in line with rocketrobie's sheet, here's an idea I'd like to run in tandem with his concept.

My Hider

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

The Nostalgia Critic

---

^{_{Doug Walker ♦ Critic ♦ Illinois ♦ Channel Awesome}}

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:

---

^{”Hello, I'm the Nostalgia Critic. I remember it so you don't have to!“}

Doing a justice for the denizens of the internet, now Mr.Walker has his spectacled eyes set on the DC universe! With numerous feats under his belt, The Nostalgia Critic will be perfectly accepted in the DC universes with the likes of Super-man and Arnold Burnsteel. HE will be shunted from the CACU (Channel Awesome cinematic Universe) and put in the dc universe via going into the phantom zone from his universe and then put into the dc universe from there.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

---

The Nostalgia Critic is really cool and I want to write him out in a collaborative format. Being around Linkara for so long Doug would obviously want to bring his critic powers to the super hero scene and help the citizens of the planet. Why do I want play him? I don’t know man I’m a mess, my car wasn’t working and now that’s it’s running it need body work and all of my time has been taken up with that or school work to the point that I feel guilty for doing anything else and all my interests have fallen to the wayside to the point I don’t know if I like any of them anymore and I also just really enjoy the Chennal Awesome movies so why wouldn’t I want to play him!

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

---

I’m going to make him turn into a version of doctor insano in season two and have him deal with that

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

NC: Man, I remember that being a good teaser.
(He clicks on the video, and it plays)
Jor-El (voiced by Doug): Even though you have been raised as a human being, you are not one of them. (NC nods) They can be a great people, if they wish to be. I have sent them you, my son. (NC mouths, "Fucking awesome!", as the Superman logo appears) Superman.
NC: Man, that still holds up. Too bad the movie sucks ass.
(He clicks on something on YouTube, and several videos on how bad Superman Returns was are shown)
NC: The hell is this? I watched one Superman Returns video. It doesn't mean that's all I want to see.
(He clicks on another part of the YouTube site, only to come up with even more Superman Returns videos. NC groans and then clicks on the "Trending" page, which seems to be trolling NC now, because it consists of nothing but Superman Returns videos)
NC: No, Superman Returns will never be trending!
(He then does a search on news, and several videos on the Snyder Cut come up)
NC: Okay, that's a little different.
(He clicks on a video, and a nerdy woman in glasses, played by Tamara, appears)
Nerdy woman: Hey, movie nerds! Today, I want to talk about the Snyder Cut and how it's not Superman Returns.
NC: (confused) What the shit?
Nerdy woman: Now, I for one am shocked that's not Superman Returns. I mean, everything pointed to the Snyder Cut being Superman Returns. (NC stares in shock) ...Superman Returns!
(NC sighs and clicks on another video. This one is hosted by one of the Chart Guys (played by Malcolm))
Chart Guy: Today on "But the Chart Says...", we're going to be taking a look at the likelihood of the Snyder Cut becoming a hit. (NC sighs with relief) But seeing as how you clicked on a Superman Returns video, every video you see now has to be about that.
NC: (incredulously) How do you even know that?!
Chart Guy: You might be wondering to yourself how I would even know that. Well, if you look at the chart...
(He gestures toward a chart, which has appeared in the corner, which reads, "CLICK ON YOUTUBE VIDEOS = ALL RECOMMENDED VIDEOS WILL BE ABOUT THAT". NC sighs and throws his head around in frustration, realizing there is no other way out)
NC: All right, I guess I'm talking about Superman Returns.
(The title for Superman Returns is shown, followed by footage of it. Dozens of posters of various superhero movies, both made before and after this movie, are also shown in the opening thoughts)
NC (vo): In 2006, with almost 20 years since the last Superman movie, and several bizarre attempts with (Images of Nicolas Cage, Robert Downey, Jr., and Ben Affleck are superimposed) several bizarre people gone awry, Superman Returns settled on the master of comic book movies... (A rapid-fire montage of comic book movie producers is shown, before settling on Bryan Singer) ...at the time, Bryan Singer. He achieved surprising success with the first two X-Men films, so he seemed like a good middle-of-the-road choice for the Man of Steel. The only problem was, it was 2006. While superhero movies were just starting to make a comeback, they were nowhere near the powerhouse they are today. People didn't exactly know what the best way to handle them was, so they were mostly played pretty safe. Say what you will about comic book films after, but there's no doubt several of them pushed the envelope. Before then, even the biggest hits didn't take that many risks. Superman Returns might be the crowning achievement of playing it too safe. While certainly tapping on ideas that could be made interesting, it retreaded way too much of what's already been done before, resulting in a major bore-fest. Audiences mainly said the deep stuff is fine, but Superman doesn't even throw a punch in this, causing the film to majorly underperform at the box office. So, what happened to turn arguably the most popular superhero of all time into an excuse to catch some (An image of the Superman logo is superimposed, but with a Z instead of an S) super Zs?
(NC is shown coming into his review room)
NC: Let's talk about this two-and-a-half hour snoozer, as nobody else who talked about it I think could actually stay awake.
(The nerdy woman suddenly wakes up)
Nerdy woman: What? Oh. Uh, yeah, I tried, but I guess no one can get through this without falling asleep.
(The Chart Guy is shown holding a pillow and a blanket)
Chart Guy: I just thought that a pillow and blanket were required when discussing anything about this movie.
NC: (sighs) Let's snore our way through this with Superman Returns.
(The Chart Guy immediately falls asleep)
Chart Guy: (snoring) Charts, charts, charts, charts...
(The movie begins on the planet Krypton, Superman's home planet)
NC (vo): Okay, let's talk about, in my opinion, the biggest problem with the movie, and it's right at the beginning...
NC: Superman missing for years.
NC (vo): The excuse they go with is, astronomers discovered distant remains of Krypton and he vanished.
NC: Kinda weird, but I guess it could be interesting...
NC (vo): ...if we see the mindset, what led up to it, the choice of leaving his new home and the people he loves to possibly reconnect with the past one.
(Instead, it's all explained with simple text on the screen)
NC (vo): Nah, just text it to us! (Green arrows point out Superman's disappearance, told in a single sentence) In fact, only one sentence explained what happened; the rest reminds us what we already know! Is anyone going into a Superman movie really not aware of this information?
NC: It's like starting off The Dark Knight with...
(Text pops up reading: "Bruce Wayne is the guy dressed as a bat". Then after a beat, another word is added: "Dumbass". We then cut back to Superman Returns)
NC (vo): It may seem odd spending the majority of time focusing on what's not needed, but you'll find that's kind of the wedding theme of this movie; it's gonna pop up over and over.
(The title for the movie is shown, which is identical to the original Superman, music and all)
NC (vo): So, you'll quickly put together this is supposed to take place in the same universe as the Richard Donner films, using the same theme and even casting their lead (Images of the two actors playing Superman are shown: Christopher Reeve and Brandon Routh) based on how much he looks and sounds like the late Christopher Reeve.
(Cut to a clip of the original Superman)
Superman (Christopher Reeve): (to Lois Lane) Well, I certainly hope this little incident hasn't put you off flying, miss. (Lois shakes her head)
(Cut to a clip of Superman Returns, on an airplane, which Superman had just saved from going out of control and crashing (given the oxygen masks hanging from the ceilings))
Superman (Brandon Routh): (to the crowd he had saved) Well, I hope this experience hasn't put any of you off flying.
NC (vo): Judging by the credits, you might think maybe this could work. The music and visuals are pretty cool, getting you hyped up...
NC: ...but tell me if this matches the style of the Donner films...
(As the credits end and the camera closes in on Earth, there is an abrupt cut to black for a beat before flashes of lightning illuminate the exterior of a mansion, with several cars parked outside)
NC: (dramatically) Superman battles (now imitating Scooby-Doo) g-g-g-ghosts!
NC (vo): This immediately doesn't match! It'd make more sense if this popped up after that shot...
(The mansion, illuminated by lightning, is shown again. This time, the words "Super Scooby Doo Where Are You!" pop up, while the Scooby-Doo theme plays)
NC (vo; singing): Super Scooby-Doo, where are you? (normal) It looks like a dying old millionaire is leaving to Lex Luthor for, sadly, the exact reason you would expect.
Millionaire: (to Luthor) You've shown me pleasures that I've never known.
(A shot of a CG-animated girl is shown in the corner)
Girl: Ewwww! (covers her mouth)
NC (vo): ...as the cast of Knives Out discover this via a snarky Kevin Spacey performance.
(Lex Luthor, who seemed to have hair as he entered the room, pulls on his hair, which comes off his head easily, revealing that it was only a wig, and his dome is as bald as ever. He gives his wig to a little girl)
Luthor: You can keep that. The rest is mine.
(The little girl screams)
NC: Agreed. By far, that's the most shocking thing Kevin Spacey will ever reveal about himself.
NC (vo): Meanwhile, in Smallville, we see Superman's mother [Martha Kent, played by Eva Marie Saint] playing Scrabble with her dog... She might be nuts. ...as something lands in her backyard.
(As Martha looks out the window to investigate, she spots a huge meteorite crashing into the ground. Cut briefly to a clip of (I don't know what the movie is))
Man: Vegas.
(Cut back again to Superman Returns)
NC (vo): It looks like it's Clark, played this time by Brandon Routh, arriving home via Kryptonian pod. You might be wondering where he got that pod from. Did he make it? Did he find it?
(A clip of the original Superman movie, showing the pod Kal-El was delivered in as a baby is shown)
NC (vo): Is it the one he was delivered to Earth in, made to fit a grown man instead of a baby?
(The opening words about the astronomers discovering the remains of Kryptonian is shown in the corner)
NC: We wrote you a sentence! (reaches out hand) Check, please!
(We then cut to a ship in a storm, rolling over some violent waves as it does)
NC (vo; singing to the Gilligan's Island theme): The movie started getting dull, this boring film will flop...
(Meanwhile, Luthor and his henchmen enters Superman's Fortress of Solitude)
Henchman: Was this his house?
Luthor: This is where he learned who he was.
NC (vo): Lex Luthor goes searching for Superman's home once more, as this version is kinda (A shot of the poster for Halloween is superimposed) Halloween-ing itself, as rather than work with the challenges of (Posters for remakes/sequels of classic movies are shown: Creed, Escape from the Planet of the Apes, The Purge: Election Year, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse) the previous bad films like other clever franchises, Singer does what he always does: says, (Posters of X-Men: Days of Future Past and Superman Returns are shown) "Nah, I don't wanna," (A shot of an Etch-a-Sketch is shown shaking) then shakes up the franchise like an Etch-a-Sketch. So now, (Posters for the first two Superman movies are shown briefly) only Parts 1 and 2 are canon, even though I can't think of anything in (Posters for the third and fourth Superman movies are shown now) III and IV that technically gets in the way of anything here. In fact, I'd argue if Superman is aware (A shot of Luthor in the first movie is superimposed) Lex Luthor knows where he is, he'd upgrade his security a little bit, at the very least to beef up (A shot of a German shepherd is shown) Krypto [Supes' dog]. And yes, I do appreciate the irony that a film ignoring previous installments in a franchise is (Posters for later movies featuring Superman are shown: Man of Steel, Batman v Superman, Justice League) ignored by the continuing installments in the franchise.
(Jor-El's face appears in one of the crystal screens)
Jor-El (Marlon Brando): My son...you do not remember me...
NC (vo): Luthor comes across a crystal with Superman's father, played by Marlon Brando's...let's just assume pissed-off ghost, who is unaware he's talking to Luthor.
Luthor: Tell me everything...starting with crystals.
NC: And cinematography...
(Shots of wide-angle closeups in other Singer productions are shown)
NC (vo): ...as Singer is still convinced wide-angle closeups are the only shots there are.
(We then cut back to the Kent farm, where Clark Kent is seen)
NC (vo): Clark wakes up at his mother's, has a flashback to when he was a kid playing with his powers, and tells his mom he didn't find anything on his journey.
Martha: Five years to find what you were looking for. Your home.
Clark: That place was a graveyard. I'm all that's left.
NC (vo): You might be wondering what he's talking about exactly. What are the details of this already-vague setup?
(The "astronomers" message is shown next to NC again)
NC: The sentence is (points to it) right there! You're gonna make him think he did a bad job!
(The message shakes up and down, with the sound of crying added in, as though the message is the one crying. NC looks at it)
NC: No, no, no, sentence, you were great, you did wonderful. (points at camera) They're wrong!
NC (vo): Apparently, this is enough to jump right back to normal, as Clark goes back to the Daily Planet, ran by the loud and eccentric Perry White, played by the sleepy-eyed and fascinatingly disinterested Frank Langella.
(A montage of clips of White is shown)
White: I want to know it all, everything. / Lois, Superman. / (looking at a piece of paper) What are these, lottery numbers? / Yeah, that makes you an expert, so you're gonna do them again. / Great Caesar's Ghost! / Come on!
NC: This man was Skeletor! (A shot of Skeletor from He-Man and the Masters of the Universe is shown) There was no way he was told to go bigger, and he held back!
Clark: Thank you for giving me my job back.
White: Don't thank me, thank Norm Parker for dying.
Jimmy Olsen (Sam Huntington): (to Clark) It was his time.
NC: The doctor said (A shot of Superman firing his eye laser beams at what looks like Norm Parker is shown in the corner) twin lasers through the heart, but we all know it was old age.
NC (vo): He also discovers Lois Lane, played by "I'm this many" Kate Bosworth, won a Pulitzer for her story "Why the World Doesn't Need Superman". (A shot of the editorial is shown, along with additional words added in by NC...) "...and Clark Kent is a Douche too".
Jimmy: (looking at a photograph of Lois, who has a child of her) He looks just like his mom. Fearless reporter Lois Lane is a mommy.
NC: (as Jimmy) She gave birth when she was fifteen! (normal) No, seriously, check the birth date. (A shot of Bosworth's page on IMDB is shown, showing she was born on January 2, 1983) Do the math. A little weird.
NC (vo): Lex returns to the mansion, where they see one of the dogs ate the other!
Kitty Kowalski (Parker Posey): (looking at dog, still chewing) Weren't there two of those?
NC: Dammit, that's so dark, I kinda have no choice but to love it.
NC (vo): ...where he tells Kumar to test the power of the crystal on a model of the city.
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