For gameplay, please see SirFozzie's Trying out the demo to Comic Book Universe. This will be a narrative dynasty[/i]
He was clean-shaven today, with a fresh haircut. Hopefully that'd make him more receptive. Like the moon phases, Hank Witherbloom tended to get progressively surlier as his beard grew out before he got a haircut and shave again.
The crisp late October air had a snap and bite to it as I ventured out of the building and went to the designated smoking area. Hank never took meetings with underlings in his office. Only his bosses, and only because he had to. "Fresh air is best for meetings," he always said.
Fresh air that was polluted by the Lucky Strike Red he was smoking as I approached him. Shit. I hate it when I have to talk to him when he's smoking. I don't want cancer because of his grouchy ass. Oh well. Has to be done.
"Sir?"
"Yeah?" The afternoon sunlight makes the grey in his buzz-cut hair gleam as Hank turns to face me.
"I wanted to talk to you about the first issue?"
A plume of smoke issued out the other side of his mouth, away from me thankfully. He gestured for me to continue.
"Okay, so the writers have come up with our first issue. Shrinkfit is plotting something. The heroes have to use their wits to figure out where he's hiding. In focus group testing, we determined that Dupin, Midnight FoxandVerti-Ghost would be the best team to use."
A narrowed eye glowers at me. "What was that last name?"
...Crap. "Verti-Ghost," I sighed.
"No."
"But sir-"
"Fuck your focus group. Verti-Ghost is trash and the writer who came up with him should be fired. There's a reason he's obscure and the fanbase hates him."
I wanted to tell him our group's findings revealed the importance of elevating minor characters to make them more popular. But I knew it would only make him madder. Instead, I waited until he ground out his cigarette in the tall ashtray pock-marked with grey and white from frequent use.
"What team do you want then, sir?"
"Dupin and Midnight Fox are fine. Swap out that waste of space with The Flashing Blade."
"...I'll let the team know."
Hank nodded and dismissed me with a hand wave. Typical - he often only accepted one of my initial recommendations, and sometimes none at all. "Damn your data," he'd say as often as, "Fuck your focus groups." ...Alliterative asshole.
***
Geoff Jefferson lived in a crumbling late Victorian that really was more space than he and his cat needed. But he loved the house - it was one of the few in his price range - especially after years living in a crime-infested apartment complex. That he'd lost his job four months ago meant little to him - burnout he hadn't even realized had been so severe, it was a long time healing.
Part of that healing process was reading comic books, and the first issue of the new Grey Dog Six Shot was out.
He'd walked to the comic book store situated in the downtown near where he lived the moment it was open to buy the issue, and now, with a bag of tortilla chips and bowl of salsa, he sat down in his thrift-store purchased plush chair to begin reading.
Dupin, who was in charge of the investigation to track down ShrinkFit, suggested the team split up and pursue different leads. "We'll cover more ground that way."
What followed was The Flashing Blade constantly searching in all the wrong places and talking to the wrong people. Such an irritating character, Geoff thought. Totally miscast in this issue. Although some people would find the jokes funny, Geoff didn't.
Dupin methodically and carefully worked through every tip, every bit of advice. No one tried to fool him or lead him astray - not when his tough, smart reputation preceded him.
Midnight Fox, being a teenager, sometimes went astray. But just when it looked like all hope was lost for the team ever finding the giant psychiatrist, she charmed a mid-level goon into giving up the exact location of Narco's right-hand man... and his diabolical plan.
"Shrinkfit and his goons are going to try to mind control Sienna Scarlet into a bad guy!" shouted the bubbly teen as she burst into the squad room.
"...Guess we'll have to go arrest him," replied Dupin. "Did you find out where they're holding her captive?"
"Yeah! That old warehouse on 7th Street"
"I know the place. Mob-owned. They usually store their smuggled drugs there. But we've never been able to get a warrant to search and seize the place there."
"If it's fighting, I'm definitely a cut above the rest for that job," quipped The Flashing Blade.
Please no, thought Geoff. Stop trying to promote this Zorro knockoff. Such a bad hero so far this issue. He nearly handed the team the L.
More chips were needed, and then he'd keep reading.