Challenge #00002: Toad V Spiderman
Toad (either Evo or movieverse) meets Spiderman. Hilarity and quipping ensue?
I can not decide which Toad to use.
Round 1: Evo-Toad V Spiderman
“Where you goin’, lady? Don'chu know this street ain’t public property?”
Ah, the catch-cry of the lesser soon-to-be-very-bruised looser. Peter swung in, landing on a nearby roof and hustled down a handy wall.
Three punks in similar bargain-basement street gang wear were moving in on a rather elongated lady burdened with shopping.
“The city planning department might disagree with you,” said the lady.
“Damn, that’s a tall-ass bitch,” said thug#1.
“Need a stepladder to teach her manners,” said thug#2.
“Need a stepladder jus’ ta fuck her,” cackled thug #3.
And then a voice right by his ear whispered, “The fuck you doin’, fool? Yo’ gonna ruin our sting.”
Peter looked to his right, where a fourth tatty youth hung on the wall much like himself. “I’ve heard of hanging around the streets, but this is extreme.”
The teen glared at him, his too-wide mouth twisting in a voluminous expression of distaste. “Mouth like dat, ’s a wonder those tights ain’t black an’ blue, yo.”
“Hey, at least I have some style!”
“As in, goin’ outta style?”
“This way nobody knows who I am.”
“Psh. An’ nobody cares…”
The lady down in the street said, “Gentlemen…”
Both boys looked down. The lady had the three thugs neatly hog-tied and moaning in discomfort. “I appreciate the extra back-up, dear; but I think I’d prefer it better if said backup was focussed on our task?”
The tatty teen’s toothy rictus was possibly wider than his mouth. “Um. Whoops? Sorry, Sara.”
Peter sighed. He was nobody’s favorite neighborhood spiderman, tonight.
Round 2: Movie-Toad V Spiderman
The man currently making his slow progress down the alley was being boxed in by four denizens - and this neighborhood crawled with denizens - who had rightfully singled him out as easy pickings.
Little did they know that this poor fellow was under the prodigious protection of Peter Parker, the friendly neighborhood Spiderman!
The limping, shambling man evidently figured out he was being boxed in and stopped in a relatively clear area of the alleyway.
“You lot fuck off,” he growled. “I’ve already had a bad fuckin’ day.”
The four toughs came out of concealment and moved in, laughing. Grinning like crocodiles.
“Bout t’ get worse,” said the spokesthug.
Just as Peter leaped to the rescue, the shambling man exploded. Both arms and one leg lashed out at three of the thugs, knocking them away. And, in the case of the guy who got the walking stick, delivering internal injuries on the side.
Peter aimed himself at the fourth man, but the erstwhile victim had plans for him, too. The injured man spat something at the fourth fellow’s face.
It hardened just as Peter’s flying foot connected with it.
Peter managed to land with his dignity intact, and his foot stuck to a felon’s face. “What the hell?”
“The fuck d'you think you are?” demanded the injured man.
Even in the half-light, Peter could see he was in a bad way. Bleeding. Burned. Wet and filthy. Like he’d been beaten, struck by lightning and left to drown in the bay. “Just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman trying to make a difference,” He shook his foot. It was stuck solidly to the man’s temple. “Is there a solvent for this stuff?”
“Dunno,” said the injured man as he continued on his way.
Round 3: WATXM-Toad V Spiderman
Toad was many things, but he was not the sort of sick psycho who would abandon his gang.
Even when his gang abandoned him.
He kept away from public places. After a debacle like that one, he didn’t need another mutant-inspired riot on his ass. Not after barely escaping with his life.
The Brotherhood had left him to fend for himself, as they frequently did, after getting themselves the heck out of dodge. Toad was used to this. He went through hay, hell and high water to find his gang again and they always accused him of turning up like a stray cat.
It was enough to make a fellow feel… unwanted.
“Well, lookie what we have here,” cooed a street tough.
Well, crap. On top of everything else, he had to wander down Yancy Street in a moment of inattention.
“Aw, it’s a little lost mutie,” said tough#2.
“Where you goin’, mutie?” said tough #3.
Things were not looking good for Mrs Toynbee’s only son.
“He’s going over the meadow and through the woods,” said a voice from above. “Isn’t that the way to Grandmother’s house?”
To a man, they all looked up.
Dangling upside-down on a cord with no visible means of support, was a teenager in a full-body stocking. Red and blue. Patterned with webs and a spider.
Fucking vigilantes. You never knew whose side they were on.
“Sod off,” said Toad. “I got this.”
“It’s four against one,” objected the vigilante.
“Yeh,” admitted Toad. “’S what nearly makes it fair.”
Bonus Round: Dresden-Codak-Toad V Spiderman
[This incarnation of Toad belongs to Dresden Codak artist, Aaron Diaz. I apologize in advance for any wrong I bestow upon him by messing with his characters and world]
Witness the paragon of perfection, Peter Parker, pounding punks prodigiously! Just another day at work for your friendly neighborhood Spiderman!
This one went a little differently when he went to assist the victim. A huddling figure tying itself -himself- into knots trying to hide himself from the entire world.
“Hey, it’s okay, now. Badguys are all gone.”
The figure huddled tighter.
Peter made sure the thugs were safely trussed up for the police before he knelt by the huddling man.
“It’s okay. I don’t bite.” He dare not touch someone so afraid. For all he knew, this guy had a whole newsstand’s worth of issues. “I’m… I’m a hero.”
Rustling from inside the trench coat, and a slip of paper emerged.
It read, Heroes kill monsters.
Monsters? What the hell?
“Hey. No. I don’t kill anyone. And I don’t go after anyone who’s obeying the law. Okay?”
The figure gradually untangled. Long, skinny arms. Equally long, skinny legs. What Peter had thought was some kind of green hood was the man’s head.
Either he was a mutant or Peter had tripped over some really amusing drugs.
“You’re a frog?”
Those wide, green eyes had an ocean of sorrow and pity for him as the froggy man picked up his belongings and hurried away. As if the frog-man understood something deeper that he could not, or would not communicate to Peter.
He spent years wondering what the hell he was missing out on, because of that look.
Announce
I put a submit box in so y'all can give me springboards with greater ease.
Whack something in there. See what pops out.
Challenge #00001: Sara with a Manual while on Ordeal
geekhyena answered: Have you read Diane Duane’s work? If so, Sara with a Manual while on Ordeal.
I am not remotely familiar with Duane. I should pick her up, one of these days. Nevertheless, I shall attempt this with my own reality(s).
Fiction ho!
Manual Ordeal
“So…” Hank drawled. “A few questions…”
“Do keep them brief.” Sara turned a page, frowning. It was written in two languages by someone who barely understood either of them. Using it as a rosetta stone to decipher what was left of the controls was, if not an exercise in futility, at least something to stop her going mad with boredom. “I am trying to concentrate.”
“How long has this been happening?”
“Subjectively, on and off for five years. By events, two days total. Blame Forge.”
Hank shrugged. “That answers my second question. Third: Where are we?”
“I don’t recognize the universe, but it appears to be a derelict space ship. We’re lucky we have power and air.”
“How long does this last?”
“I must be touching everything I was touching when we went in the first place. And you had to go juggling with my hairpin.”
“I was merely–”
“Trying an untested skill you’d only observed in recordings with inappropriate tools on an unfamiliar device. And you dropped it. Down a grille.”
“Do you have a magnet?”
“In my other pants. Currently inconveniently located in another dimension.”
“Chewing gum?”
“Other pants.”
“Anyth–”
“Other. Pants.”
“Perhaps I could–?”
“Don’t. Touch. Anything.”
Hank sighed. “I get bored, too.”
“Fabulous. Help be unravel this console. But don’t touch anything.”
Challenge me?
Posting fanfic isn’t going to help me be a better writer [New year’s resolution#1: Work to improve myself] but it is going to attract my old fans, which means more readers. I need readers :)
So. Along side the fanficcery that promises to become a long-standing tradition in this blog [over 100 fanfics, remember?] I am going to accept challenges from my audience.
Send me a springboard. A favourite phrase, a title of some media you love, ask a question about my pet universe[chronicled partially here], even an In-a With-a While-a*. I will concoct a drabble or a short story right here on my blog. Just for you.
*In-a With-a While-a is a game from Theatre Sports, where actors improvised a scene based on “in a [Place] with a [anything, really] while a [event]”.
Short stories concocted this way may be ‘Plot-What-Plot’s. You have been warned. Questions may be answered factually as well as fictionally. You get to decide which is which.
You can use my Ask box or use an answer. I don’t mind either.
This challenge will be reposted when I’ve run out of springboards.
YES!
As of this very moment, I have exactly one hundred people who have downloaded Scavenger for their reading pleasure.
There’s only one thing to say:
Thank you everyone!
Question: would lowering my price of my other works to 99 cents help increase sales?
I’m in trouble now.
You marvellous, marvellous peeps have downloaded almost one HUNDRED copies of my short story, Scavenger.
The price must be right, I guess.
And lots of you have downloaded samples of my other books, too. That’s great. It is. No sarcasm here.
It’s just… I wish y'all’d BUY something. I need an income, blobdammit! I have expensive tastes and I have yet to get my first $10 out of Smashwords.
To give you an idea: Those of you who remember my Realm may also remember my track record with computers. I break them. Frequently. The average Mac lunchbox Mini gives me two years of faithful service before it up and decides to kark it. Mac Minis are not cheap, but I’d rather a Mini than the virus-prone PC clones.
My current Mini is almost past its inaugural year.
I do have an iPad and a spare laptop [hand-me-down from my Best Beloved] just in case the unthinkable happens and this Mini decides to roll over prematurely. I also have (ta-dah) a Dropbox account, on which I can store 2G of my WiPs before I have to start paying for it.
I have no idea when (or if) any of these things will fall victim to my Fickle Finger syndrome [It’s like a green thumb. In reverse. For computers] and die on me.
I also owe in excess of $200 just to have a working phone.
…and I have no income at all…
sad face
Anyway. You didn’t come here for my pathetic whinging. You came for mad props.
As you all know, I have the artistic merit of a diseased whelk, so no “thank you” art here.
Just simple words.
Thanks for downloading me. Thanks for reading me. You are all awesome, and don’t let me forget it :)
Another call for beta-readers
As always, I am working on various fictions to publish with an eye towards making a living out of it.
I need some brave souls willing to plough through PDF’s of both finished and unfinished works of mine and send rational arguments about what I’m doing wrong and why… or, even better, suggestions on how to make it better.
Please send your email in my ask-box and I will send you a soon-to-be-released work that is almost ready to go.
The more beta-readers I have, the clearer idea I have as to whether or not a work can make it.
Thanks, all my peeps.
Better Be Meta: writingkills:Writer: I’ve planned and plotted this novel. I know...
Writer: I’ve planned and plotted this novel. I know what’s going to happen, and I know my characters like the back of my hand.
Main character: Lol no
Writer: What - what are you doing. You aren’t supposed to do that.
Main character: wanna do it
Side character: hey you…
Reblogging for total GPOY
(Source: bisexualpiratequeen, via betterbemeta)
My muses, my characters, and the workings of my butterfly mind…
I apparently have a poetry muse that only turns up at BF in the morning. If I’m asleep, I miss it.
This muse can also turn up when I’m rat-faced tired. Often, too tired to write anything down.
Same way my story muse tends to bug me when I’m driving the car. Dang muses. Always turning up at inopportune moments.
And then there’s my characters.
Argumentative bunch, the lot of them. Some get really pissy about what they’re doing. One even insists that I learn some more herbology than my usual “five seconds on google” that has covered my arse in the past.
I swear blind that common weeds have herbal applications, but I can NOT find anything anywhere that doesn’t focus exclusively in America. Y'know, because America is the only country that exists or is worth mentioning… [eyeroll]
Meanwhile, I get ten billion and one ideas on other subjects and the prize of being written goes to the plotbunny that chews the most painful part of my imagination in the most niggling way possible.
But, every once in a while, I run out of ideas on where to take everything. When that happens, I go over all my unfinished works [nineteen and counting…] and re-read them to lure a muse back and see where I’m going with it.
Sometimes, this works, and I make progress.
Sometimes, getting a sentence out and onto the page is like pulling teeth. Sometimes, it’s even harder.
On those days, I give up and go play some games.
Where do I go from here?
Wow.
That was a LOT of fanfic.
Now that I’ve submitted my entry for Understatement of the Year… I have two little things.
First, an apology.
I am very sorry I haven’t written any more. Please contain your screams of anguish.
Second, an announcement.
I am working on a novel where Sara gets her own universe. This has not stopped her from wanting to butt in on my other fandoms. I also have several other fics in progress including one inspired directly by this blog entry.
Now, since the one related to Dresden Codak requires their kind permission lest I get into trouble for ripping off their art… that last one may not see the light of day for quite some time. I have asked for kind permission, but nothing has come of it. Alas, alack.
Note, that I am in no way encouraging my fans [You loyal few] to spam the poor fellow on my behalf. I have asked thrice with no reply. That is, at least to my mind, an ungentle clue that my attentions are not wanted.
I am, however, encouraging you all to buy at least one of my short stories over at Smashwords, because I need an income, blobdamnit.
Third, yes, I am planning to write more Misfits, just as soon as I can figure out what the living eff I’m doing next. I remember having more, but that’s not the same thing as actually having it in my possession.
Insert generic appeal to fans who may actually have more here.
Because, you know, reconstructing a missing hunk of fic sucks arse.
That said, I’m pretty sure there’s some of you who would like to see more of any of my fics. I have lots. Not just in X-Men: Evolution. I have fics in Farscape, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Portal, and, of course, Doctor Who.
So send an ask if you have a specific title in mind, or even if you want to see something of a specific size in a particular fandom [drabble, short, novella, novel, epic, and OMG-are-you-still-writing-that?]. Keep in mind that the longer the fic is, the longer the queue gets.
So. Any requests?