Epitome Comics #1 “Bad SEED”



The masked man was big. Easily six foot five in his steel toed boots and, as Sergeant Loggia’s grandfather would have said, “as broad as a barn door”. The plainclothes detective could not figure out how this brute could have gotten so close to the hostage without anyone noticing.


“You,” Loggia levelled his service pistol, “release Reverend Davis now! Then get on the ground and place your hands on top of your head!”


The masked man didn’t even look back over his shoulder, “That’s not happening, Sergeant. I have a job to do here and prostrating myself at the feet of Parodiopolis’s most corrupt power-broker is not the way to go about it.”


“Do it, or I will- aw shit!” there was a rush from the crowd as one of Davis’s bodyguards attempted to engage the attacker. He fared as poorly as the others flanking the podium, as the masked man simply waited until he was close enough to wrench the collapsible truncheon from his grip and drop him with a casual elbow to the face.


“I admit your men are loyal, Davis. Or maybe they’re just as rotten as you and don’t want to be found out,” the masked man hoisted the community leader up by the collar of his $3500 suit high enough so that his $450 loafers dangled off the raised dais.


Loggia and several of his uniformed brethren continued to hold the attacker at gunpoint. This was the worst possible circumstance for this to happen under, “This is your last warning! Let go of Davis or we will shoot you!”


“Sergeant, your impotent threats have convinced me you’re a dumbass. I’m going to ignore you from here on out. As for you, Davis,” the masked man shook his hostage so violently he became a blur, “time to confess.”


“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ah! Ah! What?! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Davis cried once he stopped spasming.


The attacker adjusted his cowl’s chin strap with his free hand, “Yes you do. It’s not anything you haven’t heard before, only this time its coming from someone who can make you answer.”


Heisting Davis over his shoulder, the masked man leapt off the platform and towards the structure that had drawn the crowds, the press, and presumably the masked man himself.


“Strategies for Equal Economic Development,” Reverend Davis could see his attacker smirk as the identified the non-profit Davis headed, and was currently pinned against, “A lot of promise in those words. But what’s the truth?” The masked man swung a fist back and punched through the brick wall up to his elbow.


“My god, what are you?!” the reverend’s face was ashen as he watched his assailant yank his arm free, dust from the broken mortar caking his glove and arm, “How are you doing this?!”


There was the familiar pop pop pop of gunfire. Davis yelped as he saw the policemen’s bullets strike the back and shoulders of the masked man. The shots did nothing more than put several holes in his double breasted leather jacket.


“I’m the solution to the problem,” he kept smiling. A quick pivot of his heel, and the man had swung Davis around so he was facing the police and the crowd once more.


“Hold your fire!” Loggia ordered.


“Don’t shoot! Jesus, don’t shoot!” Davis flung up his arms.


“Own up, Davis, or next maybe it’ll be you that gets put through this wall,” the masked man cajoled.


“I- I- All right! All right! I admit it! The slush funds, the kickbacks, the money laundering! Its all true. SEED is just a scam!”


“Very good,” Davis’s attacker dumped him to the ground. Stepping over his quaking form, he turned his attention back to the police, “Save your bullets. The only thing they have a chance of doing is ricocheting and hitting someone who doesn’t deserve it.”


“I need a tactical unit to Dubois Park, now! We are engaged with a suspect who is heavily armored and I don’t know what else!” Loggia screamed into his phone.


“As for the rest of you, I hope you got the message. It does not matter where you rank in this city’s pecking order; play fair or become a target of MISTER EPITOME,” the Paragon of Power gave a wink to the cameras and charged through the SEED building’s exterior wall, then several interior walls, until the newly christened six story boondoggle collapsed on itself.



Next: “Of Laws and Supermen”

That was a pretty cool relaunch, and it came without any of the pre-release controversy that usually accompany such things!

Some interesting clues in this one. Obviously, this Epitome isn't known to people, and from the reactions it's questionable whether super types are known to exist where he is or not.

Good stuff... I'm looking forward to finding some answers in some future issues!

It seems like I'm not the only one to use DC's New 52 as story fodder.

It's nice to see Mr. E again.

Epitome Comics #2: “Of Laws and Supermen”



“Friday, one man brought down a forty year institution, literally and figuratively, in a stunning display of supernatural civil disobedience. This man is wanted by the police, the FBI, the District Attorney’s office, the Justice Department, the Pentagon, -- and me,” Mort Granderson looked imperiously at his assembled staff, “Find Mister Epitome and get him to come on the air. That is your mission, my little elves. Do not fail. The fate of the Republic depends on it.”


Winifred Winchell, as always, tried to reign her boss in, “Mort, I think this Mister Epitome story is too much to get the show involved in beyond your commentary. The stakes are too high. Parodiopolis hasn’t even seen a superhero since the Linear League.”


“Superhero?”


Winnie glanced with a disapproving eye to the oafish figure in the horn rimmed glasses, “Yes, Clancy, that’s what I called him.”


“I’m not sure the term applies,” Dominic Clancy countered, “He’s facing several counts of assault, reckless endangerment, destruction of property, leaving the scene of a crime-”


“It’s a hero’s job to stop the bad guys, Clancy. And that’s what Mister Epitome is trying to do,” ‘The Mort Granderson Show’s’producer fired back, “Do your job and look at the facts.”


Dominic ran a calloused hand through his hair, “Well, yes, but in my line of work its imperative one doesn’t confuse truth with conjecture or, um, opinion.”


“And that’s why we value you so highly, Dom. You’re my sophistic safety net. You allow me to peform my high wire stunts without fear of falling and looking like a stooge,” the voice of KPAL assured his personal fact checker, “That said, if you, Winifred, and Silent Sabal can’t land Mister Epitome for an interview, I’ll fire you all,” Granderson heaved himself up away from the table and lurched out of the room.


“You know, I’m getting a little tired of that joke,” Sabal Paspula admitted once his employer was gone.


“The alliterative term of endearment or the threat?” Winnie asked as she produced her phone and began searching for a number.


“Both. Really, how does he expect us to find Mister Epitome when every government agency in the country can’t?”


“We’re the private sector, Sabal. That makes us far more results oriented. Besides, we just want an interview. They want to lock him up.”


“Mister Epitome might not be interested in doing an interview, since coming out in the open like that could make it easier for the police to arrest him,” Dominic noted.


“This guy wants to be noticed. He scheduled his ambush of Davis until the SEED building’s official opening when the press would be there. And every report of Mister Epitome in action has him making some pithy statement to witnesses afterwards. Those are his sound bytes. We’re going to give him the platform to say his whole manifesto,” Winnie made her call, “Gavin? Yeah. Mort wants to score a sit down with Mister Epitome. Can you adjust the bumpers? Uh huh. And maybe a ten second spot at the bottom of every hour. Of course he listens to us, Gavin; who else in the city has been harping on Davis like Mort has? Thanks.


“Okay, done my part. Now, how do you two plan to contribute?” Winnie smiled as she snapped shut her cel.


“I could go through all the sightings, see if there’s some kind of pattern to them,” Dominic offered.


“Sounds good. Sabal?”


“I’ve narrowed it down to either trolling Off Central Park as mugger bait or becoming a supervillain and taking the city hostage, forcing Mister Epitome into a dramatic confrontation.”


Winnie made a sour face, “Put a lot of thought of this, huh?”


“Well, the second idea at least. Maybe too much.”


“Oh, please. You drive an Audi and have a personal line of credit at Wooster’s. Fat and happy. You’re not disgruntled enough to enough to become a supervillain. Dominic, on the other hand, I could totally see snapping.”


“I never thought myself as being particularly disgruntled,” Clancy mumbled into his lap.


“I’m with Dom. Plus, he has no flair for the dramatic.”


“Neither of yoiu have any flair period. That’s why we hired you. You’re just grey, faceless cogs in the Mort Granderson machine, and will remain so under the daily grind wears your teeth to nubs,” Winnie flippantly drew a circle in the air with her finger, “Start spinning, cogs.”




Next: “The Cluster”

I quite like this answer to what you do when newspapers are no longer relevant. I imagine there's a fair opportunity for conflict in such a set up, and Dominic's coworkers certainly seem interesting. Some nice name drops as well... So this is taking place in an alternate Parodiopolis, it would seem. Cool. And good to see Wooster's is operating there too.

I'm digging this excellent relaunch so far.

... The Linear League?

I'm liking this. I looking forward to seeing where you go with this.

I can't tell if this is an alternate Paradopolis or the future, and we're looking back at a point where the Lair Legion either dissolved or was destroyed earlier on.

Two relaunches down and fifty to go.





Thank you.

Alternate is as good a word as any.




Thanks.

Good question. All we (and I'm very much including myself in that statement, because I'm not sure of their details) is that they were a superhero team that operated out of Parodiopolis some time in the past.




I know at least where I want to go with the next two bits, and even have one written.

It not in the future, certainly. I haven't decided if its set in the past yet. Even if it is, it would just be a few years ago, around the time I first started writing here. 2005 or 2006.

Epitome Comics #3: “Along Came a Spider”



Reverend Clayton Davis was brought to a small room away from the general visiting area. The guards, whom he did not recognize, removed his shackles and exited.


“Where’s my lawyer?” the head of SEED demanded, “You can’t talk to me unless my lawyer is here.”


A pair of men joined Davis in the room. One in full military uniform, the other wearing a slate grey suit.


“Reverend Davis, I’m Colonel Fitzsimmons. We need to speak with you, off the record. It is in your best interest to cooperate, sir.”


Davis scowled, “You can go to hell.”


The other man, the civilian, perched himself on the edge of the table close enough to Davis for him to find his position uncomfortable.


“I have nothing to say to you either, spook,” the reverend told him as he inched his chair away.


“Mister Epitome found your safe,” the man in gray told him plainly. Shrugging, “Yanked it out from the floor and ripped the door right off.”


Davis looked stricken.


“Whatever you kept in there, he’s got it now. Which, given how much effort you put in securing it, makes us assume is not good for you.”


“How can you let that psycho run free?!” Davis sputtered, “He’s breaking more laws and doing more damage than I have ever been accused of!”


Colonel Fitzsimmons nodded, “Your country agrees with you, sir. That’s why I’m here. In exchange for your full cooperation in apprehending the fugitive, the President and the governor have both signed off on granting you immunity from any potential prosecution that might arise from your current situation.”


“I’m not making any deals until I meet with my attorney.”


“No lawyers, Rev,” Gray Suit explained, “Stakes are too high for them.”


“You’re in rarefied air here. This goes beyond some petty ante corruption charge or your right to due process,” Fitzsimmons’s tone became more severe, “Mister Epitome is a clear and present danger to the nation, and if you fail to help us secure his capture we will bury you so deep down you’ll come up in a different hemisphere.”


Gray chimed in, “Or, we’ll just let it slip you’re cooperating with us on investigating The Cluster and leave you to their tender mercies.”


Reverend Clayton Davis’s eyes bulged out from his head, and his face drained of color. He began to tremble.


“Hhm. Looks like we know what really scares you, huh, Rev?”


“Something’s wrong,” Fitzsimmons moved from his chair towards the increasingly convulsing prisoner, “He’s having some kind of seizure.”


“Damn it. He’s bugged,” Mister Grey leapt up and produced a stilletto.


“Bugged?! How- My Lord!” the officer watched as Grey wrapped an arm around Davis’s head and bent it forward to expose his neck. He could see a small bulge rising and writhing beneath the skin there.


“Grab him, Colonel! Hold him steady,” the agent shouted as he was buffeted by Davis’s wildly flailing arms. With Fitzsimmons’s help, he used the knife to cut an incision into the neck, then taking the tip of the blade to pry out the object buried inside: a tiny metallic bauble with several filaments trailing from it.


Reverend Davis screamed and broke away from the pair. Clutching at the wound, he did a faceplant on top of the table. After a final spasm he became motionless.


The guards rushed back in to the room, “Sir, what happened?”


“Go back outside,” Colonel Fitzsimmons ordered, “We will call you when we need you.”


Mister Grey turned Davis over and checked his breathing and heart rate, “Rapid but stable. It wasn’t enough to stop his heart, at least. It’ll take a CT scan to learn what effects the pulse had on his brain. We need to get him moved to Silver Springs Hospital immediately.”


“What just happened? What is that thing? Who or what is The Cluster?”


Aldrich Grey took his handkerchief and and used it to wrap up the gore stained bauble he had extracted from the reverend, “Classified, Fitzy. Though I can tell you Parodiopolis has more to worry about than just a super-powered vigilante.


“It’s infested.”




Next: “Trouble at the Waterfront”

Oooh, creepy. Not that I'm going to weep much for the sleazy Rev., but nobody likes being fried from inside your own neck. Wonder how much of his brain was scrambled.

And despite my comment in the title, it's interesting to see Grey and Epitome on different sides here, apparently. And now there's a big bad to worry about as well...

Good stuff!

I was not expecting that.

If there's an Epitome Comics #5, that question will be revealed.




One that fulfills my Theme Week obligation.





Thank you

:)

I like this new writer better than the last one.

The bug - not the story.

You have me wondering what is going on now. Well, wondering more than I usually do.

Next?

>> One that fulfills my Theme Week obligation.

Robospiders! Yay!