LNH: Dashing Tales #5

[Andrew Perron]

On 9/5/2015 7:43 PM, Ben Rawluk wrote:
<snip>
 > She hasn't made it off the futon in the middle of the room for twelve hours
 > now. That's probably going to be a problem. The toilet's running, too -- it's
 > been running, inexplicably, for nearly an hour. She should go look at it, but
 > she doesn't want to get out of bed. Occultism Kid said this might be a
 > problem. That prolonged exposure to Hell dimensions can make you a little
 > funny in the head.

Makes sense - especially that it *really* takes effect once you're not pushing 
yourself anymore and have time to rest.

 > She's also got a voicemail, which means it's either Victor King or her
 > mother. Her mother doesn't call, because they're not talking to each other.
 > Victor King wants to know where she's been, if she has initial notes on the
 > story, he wants details on LNHQ. "Is anyone sleeping with space gorilla?"

I don't *think* we have a space gorilla at the moment, although that's not a bad 
idea...

 > He
 > says something about Bogus, how he can't find the guy, they've got no one
 > covering the occult beat right now--
 >
 > (She could do it. She should call back and say she'll do it. She was in Hell,
 > after all, even if she didn't get the interview. And she could write
 > something about the predatory advances of trenchcoaters, as well.)

That's not a bad idea either - but only if she learns better self-care. Tackle 
too many hell dimensions without it and you'll end up... well, like John 
Constantine.

 > "Emma." There's a soft creak as Marco (presumably) leans back against the
 > door. "I'm not apologizing for rescuing you from Hell. You know that's
 > crazy.." He sighs, long and loud. "Occultism Kid says this might be -- Hell
 > is depressing."

Emma, you're stuck in a literalized metaphor!

 > He huffs, and then says, "Emma, don't make me burn the door right off the
 > hinges and drag you out of there. I've been practicing. I'm working on a
 > ghazal; Linguist Lass gave the ability to read and write in Farsi for a
 > couple hours. She says my imagery seems more intentionally mishandled than
 > unintentionally--"

Building confidence through superheroing, FUCK YEAH!

 > She leans away from the door and picks up the postcard. It's from Bernie, a
 > swamp monster she interviewed last spring. They keep in touch sometimes. His
 > scrawl is barely legible, she only catches a few words -- goat and spring and
 > thanks -- but she appreciates it, even with the muddy smears. It smells like
 > Bernie. There's something very grounding about that, his bog stink, she grips
 > the postcard and closes her eyes. Did he end up sporing? Did he meet a nice
 > volunteer from the Sierra Club? Maybe if all of this ends up a failure, she
 > can go to Florida. She sighs. "Occultism Kid was right, Marco. I need a few
 > days. I'm okay. I just need to get this out of my system."

Oh my god such sweet human realness, nnnnnh <3

 > Emma kicks at the mail on the floor and then crosses the apartment to hang
 > the postcard from Bernie up on the fridge with alphabet magnets. She has to
 > use four of them -- S, W, A, M -- because the magnets aren't strong, and it
 > starts to slide down.

Dial SWAM for Super Worrying Artificial Melancholy!

 > It's raining blood. Emma Dash stands on the rooftop of the Net.ropolis
 > Netizen with a transparent umbrella up over her head. It's raining blood, and
 > a vast yellow clock hangs in the sky, counting down the hours before the
 > end..

Every single reference in this series is unexpected yet perfectly placed.

 > "Is this guy bothering you?" They both turn. A bright yellow doorframe and
 > door are standing open on the rooftop, next to the real door leading down
 > into the building. Standing in the open doorway is a man in a bright purple
 > and yellow costume. The costume is thick and creased, with a purple cowl
 > rimmed with gold, and a fussy purple cape dragging on the ground. The cape is
 > clasped with a giant red ruby. The guy thumbs in the direction of Bogus and
 > Emma knits her eyebrows together.

Ooooo.

 > "Figment Lad."
 >
 > "But he's a joke, isn't he? Even the trading card says--" She closes her
 > mouth, then opens it again. The Figment Lad trading card is just the golden
 > LNH border around an empty space. It was considered a collector's item.
 > People argue about it on the internet, according to Marco. Something's very
 > off about everything right now. "You don't exist."

Oooooooo! :D :D :D :D :D

 > "I mean, it depends which Figment Lad you're talking about. I'm the Silver
 > Age Figment Lad. The Golden Age Figment Lad doesn't exist. Or maybe he does?
 > And then there was the Figment Lad who worked with the Net.Trenchcoat
 > Brigade. Actually, maybe he didn't either." The guy, Figment Lad, is counting
 > off on his fingers. "It's all very confusing, I'm sorry. We tend to exist in
 > only the most retrospective ways?" He puffs up his cheeks and releases a
 > breath. A wind starts to kick up around them. He looks up. From the way his
 > cowl bunches, he must be frowning back at her. He doesn't look at Bogus.
 > "Actually, if I'm here, you're probably dreaming all of this, you know. I
 > don't exist." He must catch something in her face, because he follows that up
 > with, "But don't worry! Not existing is very liberating! The LNH don't invite
 > you to meeting if they think you're made up, and the NTB don't have meetings
 > anyway, when I'm that Figment Lad."

THIS IS SUCH GOOD AND FUNNY AND THOUGHTFUL AND LNH-Y DIALOGUE AND I HAVE TO 
QUOTE ALL OF IT.

 > "Well, now I want to dream about you falling down a well."  She glances back
 > at Figment Lad. "Can you do that? Can you use your -- what?  Dream-powers?"
 >
 > "Sorry. Ironic punishments are the other guy. I'm not him today. But this is
 > your head, after all."
 >
 > Emma turns back toward Bogus, smiling.
 >
 > He starts to scream.

 >:D

 > Especially in Hovel Homes, where the Legion don't tend to visit too often.

Actually, this point has come up a couple of times and it confuses me. Classism 
is one thing, but I don't think that the "heroic weirdo" segment of the roster 
is going to be dissuaded by that - indeed, they'd probably take it as a 
challenge. And that's not counting the Frank Miller-esque ones...

 >  Two strange men are wrestling on the ground. Net.heroes. She feels like
 > she's going to need to sit Marco and Sonnet Queen down and explain that they
 > should absolutely never pull this kind of crap.

Bwahaha. <3

 > "Tomorrow I'm probably going to write about this. And then you'll be hated
 > and feared and I will still have a goddamn hole in my apartment."  She's
 > breathing heavily. A tiny part of her wants to say that she could be so much
 > better at this than them. "I have enough problems without you." She's
 > shaking. Intrepid reporters aren't supposed to shake -- the demon didn't make
 > her quiver. But this isn't fear, this anger. She's almost vibrating with
 > rage. "Goddamn European royals, coming in and smashing up the place. The city
 > isn't your playground." She shoves him, the villain, right in the middle of
 > his chest. He doesn't budge, but he does manage to look genuinely surprised
 > at the contact. "Go beat each other up somewhere else."

YES GOOD SPEECH. <3 <3 <3

 > And then she's alone. She's alone with her smashed apartment, debris all over
 > the futon, still creeped out by that dream and her apartment and there's a
 > gaping wound in the building and she doesn't know what to do. She reaches out
 > for her phone. She should probably call 911 or something, not that the police
 > are particularly concerned with Hovel Homes, or people who look like her.
 > Instead, she dials and presses the phone to her ear and waits while it rings.
 > After twenty seconds of buzzing on the line, someone says: "Hello?"
 >
 > "Hey," Emma says. "It's me. I might want to rethink things. I'm coming to
 > LNHQ."

ARGLEFLOGGY THE BEST.

 > I've always had a weird thing about Figment Lad, who's never really appeared
 > to my knowledge. His appearance, nature, personality -- everything, really --
 > are obviously flexible as hell, but I couldn't resist.

Yes! It's a nice bringing-back-and-dressing-up. (And I checked - his only actual 
not-a-joke appearance was in Cry.Sig (which in turn was probably a mistake by 
Drizzt), where he had no lines and no description *anyway*.)

Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, tons of good stuff.