Dating is hard when the first book you read involving any kind of romance also had a gryphon.
I meet a cute girl and find myself daydreaming about how, years in the future, the two of us will fondly remember that time I gave my life to save her from a rampaging dragon army.
We’ll be on our back porch sipping our coffee or tea at our house out in the mountains somewhere, watching the early morning mist burn away. I’ll still have some trouble in the cold— my right shoulder will ache, a dull reminder of old war wounds. But we’ll be smiling against the chill, happy with the peaceful life we’ve had since that grateful wizard resurrected me. She’ll lean her head against my shoulder as I shout encouraging words to our two children, who are just putting the finishing touches on the snowman they’ve built with nothing but their hands and telekinesis.
I’m just having trouble finding a girl who can meet me halfway on this one.
Super-dork Go! Wrote this for a D&D campaign I’m joining.
She is running again. It’s rare that she would be pushed so hard without knowing why, but in some circumstances this is a necessity. She’ll find herself having run for days on end before the wind catches her and the truth unfurls in her mind like a fern under morning sun. She always knows when to stop – or, rather, she always knows when the moment comes. She’ll slow and the world will grasp at her again, feeding and sharing what is needed. She’ll come to the edge of the wood with the scent of iron or the feel of a jagged blade fully formed in her mind and she’ll know: danger.
A clearing ahead, and she feels a tug urging her through. She leaps, or she already has, and the clearing is now behind her. The pack of crawlers is a threat, and a confusing one so far from their natural dank, dark holes, but there is another tasked with their removal, the recognition of a second hunter close by pricking at the edge of her mind.
She looks back, following the static of awareness. She can see now looking down from a tangle of branches, and she recognizes her limbs in among them, thinner and frailer but, she knows, swifter and deadly silent. She follows the gaze through to see what she—and then the urge, focus, onward. She knows to listen, knows the rightness of this planted instinct, but she also feels the strain of it, the struggle to comprehend. Her mind is a new thing, different enough that she can touch the minds of the other in the world while still heeding the call to act as guardian, shepherd, hunter. They are still few in number, and, fresh as they are, they must push up and out, as younglings do. She knows the needs and the desire to protect the fey is as deeply held as any other, but with each battle, with each bond, she feels these creepers of thought tangling in among the roots of her. Words and feelings and the connection to others comes more and more naturally, but with each passing day these vines grow thicker, or…
Here. She has passed into deeper forest now, bordering swamplands. She feels the wetness, the snug clinging of moss on the trees around her. She braces herself for the lethargy, the rotten sloth she has faced before. She must keep a clear mind for whatever is to come – more than keeping her sword at hand, this will carry her through. A stinging scent of decay catches her, and an emaciated claw slices out from a shadow. She ducks to her left, but a surge of thought takes her someplace else entirely. What was once a goblin is now nothing but an emaciated husk, but the creature’s mad glee at its own cleverness quickly recoils to confusion as it finds nothing but a stray leaf now floating back down to earth. Confusion turns to shock as a blade pierces the leathery flesh along its back. The creature was helpless the moment she stepped, but she feels no pity. Not for this tainted corpse.
She doesn’t need to turn to know that there are four more of the creatures shambling, crawling through the undergrowth. They are hesitant, but their numbers give them some confidence and, beside, they now know she can teleport – or what looked like teleporting. They’re ready for her tricks now.
She feels a burning, electric wind whip up in her mind and sees the swamp around her bend, and she smiles.
Had this saved for a while, just been a-slacking.
Sally: Yes, sweetie, we’re waiting for Uncle Alex. Do you see him? Is he com- OHMYGOD. Alex, god, you should have said something.
Alex: Sorry, I always forget how quiet that is. Hey, buddy. Look at you, gettin’ all big and grown! You’re— oof! You’re like a ton of bricks!
Sally: Yea, when did you last see him? It’s been a few months—
Alex: Five months. Since your birthday.
Sally: Oh yea.
Sally: I’m glad you stopped by. He really did miss you.
Alex: Yea, I’ve been pretty busy. I keep meaning to check in on him. It’s nice to have someone who still treats me like family.
Sally: Geez, Alex, that’s not fair. We all miss you.
Alex: Everyone but Ryan.
Sally: No, him, too—
Alex: Is that why you waited to invite me until he was out of town?
Sally: We’re at the park, I thought you’d be able to relax out here.
Alex: Right.
Sally: Fine, yes. I knew you wouldn’t come if Ryan was here, and I missed you. You haven’t so much as called in months.
Alex: And what would I have said? “Sorry I haven’t come by, but I’m not allowed near the house.”
Sally: Dammit- Alex, that’s not what he said, now stop— Sweetie— no, sweetie, it’s ok, mommy’s not mad at you. Come here, mommy’s not – ok, Uncle Alex can take you for a second.
Sally: It’s just that… things have been tough this year. Nobody’s hiring, he can’t even get an interview.
Alex: And so he takes it out on me?
Sally: He’s just still trying to get back on his feet. He wanted so much to be a father, and now the only money we’re getting is from your pension, and I know he hates feeling so dependent—
Alex: The money’s not going anywhere else, I’ve told you that. I’ve told him that.
Sally: But it’s not just about the money, you know? He- he loves Will, and Will adores him, but you come around and he won’t talk about anything else. It’s like Ryan isn’t even there, and when he’s already feeling so helpless…
Alex: So it’s not that I can’t come to the house, I just can’t come to see my nephew?
Sally: Oh come on, Alex! I’m just trying to explain—
Alex: No, I know what you’re trying to explain. It wasn’t a big deal when his brother was just handing out speeding tickets.
Sally: He loved it when you were a cop, you know that. You were a hero back than, too.
Alex: Back then I just wasn’t famous, right?
Sally: Back then you took off the uniform when you got off work. Back then you walked through our front door instead of appearing out of nowhere in our living room.
Alex: How can you possibly compare this to work, Sally? This isn’t a fucking career. This is just what I am now. This is what I do. We talked about this, remember? Talked about how hard it would be… I told you there would be sacrifices, but I’m doing what I need to do—
Sally: But it’s not what we need. It’s not what he needs. He’s your brother, and he needs you to be his brother.
Alex: The tag-along slacker? The little kid he can play dad to?
Sally: Dammit, Alex, it’s like you’re trying to stay mad at him. I’m not asking you to lie about your day, just— Put on a pair of jeans, walk through the front door!
Alex: It’s not that—
Sally: You can fly from LA to Egypt in ten minutes. You can find time to change clothes. Don’t even try to tell me this is too much to ask of a superhero.
Alex: Sally, what if it is too much to ask? What if I can’t afford time to play house?
Sally: Alex—
Alex: No, Sally, listen. If this was me running some charity, then, sure, I’d let him pretend like what I’m doing is no big deal. But I’m not. Do you remember why I flew from LA to Cairo in ten minutes? Earthquakes and riots. In both cities. I’m not trying to help people. I’m trying to save lives, and this is what I’ve dedicated my life to— and not just during business hours.
Sally: But we don’t want you to—
Alex: I’m sorry. I have to go.
Sally: Alex, we miss you, don’t—
Sally: Yes, honey, Uncle Alex is going to save people. No, mommy’s fine. I’m happy, see? Do you want some ice cream? Let’s go get ice cream.
Maybe I should just start posting scans of my page lay-outs
Page 1
5 panels. Top quarter of the page is 1 next to 2, with 1 twice the width of 2. Panel 3 is the second quarter of the page, full width. Bottom half is 4+5, with 4 a tall narrow panel on the left-hand side, panel 5 a single small close-up frame in the upper left-hand corner of 6, and the remainder panel 6.
Panel 1: Running across an ancient stone bridge, this is a mid-shot of several of them (8-9 total) from the knees to the shoulder, blurred somewhat in action – they’re sprinting.
Panel 2: From the front, close in on the two or three faces in the front. The bridge is wide enough that two of them can stand side-by-side but they’re disorganized in their rush to make it to the other side. One is looking behind as he runs. At this angle we can’t see too far beyond them, but they’re obviously all terrified.
Panel 3: From behind again, they’ve arrived at the end of the bridge, with forest a short distance ahead of them. Whoever is in front has slowed down. Second in line is looking back, terror in his eyes.
Panel 4: From the side, full body wide-ish shot. The lead runner is slowed almost to a standstill now, looking ahead and slightly up at the dark forest ahead of him. The boundary is stark, grassland one moment and dense, gnarled trees the next. The second is running past him, still looking behind him.
Friend: Oh god, we’re trapped.
Sam: Keep running!
Friend: But the forest…
Panel 5: Second runner, close-up of face, grim, determined, with first runner behind him. We might be able to see the others coming up behind, all slowing down.
Sam: We don’t have a choice!
Panel 6: Looking towards the forest boundary again, just as we see the second runner crash through low-hanging branches, arms crossed to protect his face.
Page 2
4 panels. Two panels (1 and 4) split the page into top and bottom halves, with panels 2 and 3 small close-ups along the split, evenly spaced across the page.
Panel 1: The same perspective as last panel of previous page but zoomed out more now, with the group in the foreground, all jumping somewhat at the scream cut off by a sickening crunch.
Sam: AAAAAAAAAHH-
Sound: KRNCH.
Panel 2: Close-up of the first runner, still staring into the forest, fear and a tinge of hopelessness on his face. We can just see the back of Zoe’s head on the right-hand edge of the frame, looking the opposite direction.
Friend: Oh god…
Panel 3: Similar shot, but facing opposite direction. Zoe is looking on in fear, with the back of 1’s head on the left-hand edge of the frame.
Friend: Oh god we’re trapped…
Panel 4: Looking back towards the bridge, a few of the group in the foreground, looking at the creatures just arriving at the edge of the bridge. They are clambering along the middle and sides, running on all fours except for the lead two which are standing on hind legs, preparing to attack.
I am going to try to post at least one thing per week.
And there is another short script that I am determined to post in the next day or so.
I have also determined (heh) that, while action is so much easier than dialogue, doing both together is just plain hard.
it was his birthday, too
“What’s it doing.”
“I don’t think it’s doing anything.”
“What do you mean it’s not doing anything?”
“It’s not doing anything, it’s just sitting there.”
“Does it look like anybody’s in it?”
“Don’t even know if there’s an inside for anybody to be in.”
“Well look for windows.”
“You could look, you know, it’s not shooting at us.”
“You were already looking so I’m just asking you if there were windows.”
“I did not see any windows.”
“Are you calling the police?”
“Yea.”
“open mommy”
“Wha- BOBBY!”
“Bobby, no! Get back from there.”
“Bobby, you can not sneak off like”
“What the hell…”
thought of this while eating a sandwich
She is standing at the crest of a bluff thrust up into the air by the force of her. Below and around her the land is rent and burned. Mountains torn up in a flash of rage, rifts cracked through the earth, smoldering from the fires below. She is standing, naked save the violent, clawing shadows around her, grasping at her skin, dragging her into or being sucked in by the void behind her. Her face is drawn, eyes black, wisps of the black aether flowing from her mouth which is open in a mute song or scream. Her face is expressionless, mind focused on the nothing behind her.
Behind her is the void, tearing at the world around it, ragged edges of the sky flapping in the wind as the void inhales the world.
dialogue
1: You made it.
2: (silence)
1: What happened up-
2: They killed him. (pause) I had him beat. He was already down and… They killed him.
1: (Hesitation) But they didn’t kill you. (No response) They didn’t-
2: But they could. They will. I can’t keep this up forever.
1: Not forever. We don’t need forever. You know that. We just need long enough.
2: And how long is that supposed to be? How long do we need to wait? How long can we wait? Do we even know what we’re waiting for?
1: We have to. I mean, we will. I’m sorry, I just-
2: Don’t apologize. Please don’t. I- Just keep being here when I get back. I just need to know you’re here.
wedding story
Page 1
Full page. Outside of a church, bright, sunny day. Church is in a suburban setting, trees and a few oldish-looking homes. One wide panel and two wide panels just below that splitting up the bottom of the page, lying over the grass and street I the foreground.
Panel 1: The wedding party, viewed from the rafters of the church, bride and groom in the center, angled slightly towards the officiant but facing each other. We see two or three rows of pews with guests in suits and dresses. Groom’s mom is in front, dabbing at her eyes.
Panel 2: Groom’s face, viewed from over bride’s shoulder. He is smiling awkwardly, a little anxiously.
Groom: “—to love and to cherish—”
Panel 3: Bride’s face, viewed from over groom’s shoulder. She is smiling brightly, trying to keep up with the emotions of the moment.
Groom: “—until we are parted by death.”
Page 2
Top third of the page is two panels side-by-side. Rest of the page is four panels, with the left-hand (3) a tall, narrow panel next to a larger panel (4) approximately taking up the majority of the bottom 2/3, and then panels 5 and 6 are vertical squares taking up the remaining right-hand space. The sound of the tearing runs across the tops of panels 3, 4, and 5, behind the characters and action but over the background.
Panel 1: View of the guests from the front of the church with the couple in the left-hand foreground. The bridesmaids are off to one side, various shades of proud, crying, and feigned interest. A bit beyong and between the maids and the bride we see the bride’s parents, mom crying profusely, dad with his arm around her.
Groom: “This is my solemn vow.”
Panel 2: Viewed from aisle now, looking up at the couple and the officiant standing over them as he turns towards the bride.
Officiant (quietly): “In the name—”
Panel 3: Closer in but still from below on the couple and officiant as they turn in shock to a shrieking, tearing sound behind them.
Panel 4: From the altar, between the couple, looking down the aisle at a gaping white hole in the area between the pews. The area around the hole is skewed, torn, as though a wind is passing through a hole in a hanging sheet. The guests closer to the hole are already pushing to get out of the way, a few climbing over pews and other guests in their fear.
