Read Online Big Superhero Action by Raymond Embrack - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Raymond Embrack
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only amateur superheroes and pro superheroes.
The big question is where did the real superheroes come from?
This is Brutalia. The city of Brutalia is big and dangerous, lurking outside the velvet ropes of Manhattan like its bouncer. Kind of big kinda industrial-looking, a big dirty city. Get this: superheroes don’t exist anywhere else. They don’t appear anywhere else. The Brutalia Limit holds. Therefore they never leave Brutalia. Therefore what? Either their powers do not exist outside of Brutalia….or they just can’t cross the city limits. If they could they could save the world or take it over. So maybe this is a good arrangement. Whatever. Bigger questions for a bigger time.
So where did the superheroes come from? In the real world superheroes aren’t like in the comics. They don’t come into being from a whole bunch of different causes invented by comic book writers where one guy comes from the planet Krypton, another guy gets bitten by a spider, another guy finds a magic ring—forget that. In the real world, superheroes are created by one thing: the same thing. The same thing brings them into existence, the same cause produced that effect, the same source brought them into being. What that is has yet to be determined. I’m just saying that’s where to look for the probable answer, geeks.
16
“R eally?” the Halo said in that whine that had been trendy for five minutes but she was committed to bringing it back.
Alphaville. It was a dull grimy sunrise after making their nighttime superhero circuit and now the Halo and JKM were walking up to an unnatural wonder.
JKM grunted, “What?”
“Suicide by biker gang?”
“Bullshit.”
“You didn’t care about living.”
“I stay ready for death if it comes.”
“There’s that and there’s seeking it out.”
“Being a superhero is a high-risk occupation.”
The Halo switched off her tiara. She switched it back on.
“I can do that with my remote now.”
“Good for you.”
“I’d rather have nylons that never ran.”
The Halo looked down at her legs in those high boots. The short skirt under which hung the post-disco pre-opera. Softened by hormones her face looked less like Pete Wentz but she kept his hairdo and the mascara. She had changed her name from
Princess Glimmer
to
the Halo
to be taken more seriously. She looked over JKM’s muscular build that was only partially augmented by the chest plating. The guns were real, pumped and massive. His body was broad with upper body training, striding upon broad, muscled thighs. His hair was stark white in a box-shaped crew cut
.
They were the only people out at that hour, in a lot between two tenements where the wheelchair mountain stood, abandoned wheelchairs were piled thirty feet. That was where The Corpus marked his territory.
“You are taking this way too seriously,” the Halo said.
“We’re superheroes.”
“We’re only in this to reach The Corpus.”
“Maybe earning virtue is the way to do it.”
“Please. By getting killed by a biker gang?”
“Should we not be worthy?”
“We have enough issues.”
“We fucking have more issues than TV Guide.”
“So who needs to get killed by a biker gang? Not me.”
They reached the wheelchair mountain, stopped, gazed up at the crooked pile.
“Be honest,” JKM said. “Am I desecrating the name of Jack Kirby? The man was a god. Sometimes even I think I went too far.”
“Don’t ask me, I’m a Dan Clowes person. Dan Clowes from the neck up, Robert Crumb in the thighs. My thighs are huge.”
“I like your big thighs.”
“Gee thanks.”
“Look, I wasn’t trying to suicide.”
“I know. It’s the testosterone. It makes you go too far sometimes.”
“Anyway what would you do without me? We’re a team. I’ll never let you be in danger.”
“Please. I could go solo. I can handle myself, okay? I can do my thing.”
“I know but don’t waste it on street thugs, let me do it.”
The Halo took his arm.
He
The big question is where did the real superheroes come from?
This is Brutalia. The city of Brutalia is big and dangerous, lurking outside the velvet ropes of Manhattan like its bouncer. Kind of big kinda industrial-looking, a big dirty city. Get this: superheroes don’t exist anywhere else. They don’t appear anywhere else. The Brutalia Limit holds. Therefore they never leave Brutalia. Therefore what? Either their powers do not exist outside of Brutalia….or they just can’t cross the city limits. If they could they could save the world or take it over. So maybe this is a good arrangement. Whatever. Bigger questions for a bigger time.
So where did the superheroes come from? In the real world superheroes aren’t like in the comics. They don’t come into being from a whole bunch of different causes invented by comic book writers where one guy comes from the planet Krypton, another guy gets bitten by a spider, another guy finds a magic ring—forget that. In the real world, superheroes are created by one thing: the same thing. The same thing brings them into existence, the same cause produced that effect, the same source brought them into being. What that is has yet to be determined. I’m just saying that’s where to look for the probable answer, geeks.
16
“R eally?” the Halo said in that whine that had been trendy for five minutes but she was committed to bringing it back.
Alphaville. It was a dull grimy sunrise after making their nighttime superhero circuit and now the Halo and JKM were walking up to an unnatural wonder.
JKM grunted, “What?”
“Suicide by biker gang?”
“Bullshit.”
“You didn’t care about living.”
“I stay ready for death if it comes.”
“There’s that and there’s seeking it out.”
“Being a superhero is a high-risk occupation.”
The Halo switched off her tiara. She switched it back on.
“I can do that with my remote now.”
“Good for you.”
“I’d rather have nylons that never ran.”
The Halo looked down at her legs in those high boots. The short skirt under which hung the post-disco pre-opera. Softened by hormones her face looked less like Pete Wentz but she kept his hairdo and the mascara. She had changed her name from
Princess Glimmer
to
the Halo
to be taken more seriously. She looked over JKM’s muscular build that was only partially augmented by the chest plating. The guns were real, pumped and massive. His body was broad with upper body training, striding upon broad, muscled thighs. His hair was stark white in a box-shaped crew cut
.
They were the only people out at that hour, in a lot between two tenements where the wheelchair mountain stood, abandoned wheelchairs were piled thirty feet. That was where The Corpus marked his territory.
“You are taking this way too seriously,” the Halo said.
“We’re superheroes.”
“We’re only in this to reach The Corpus.”
“Maybe earning virtue is the way to do it.”
“Please. By getting killed by a biker gang?”
“Should we not be worthy?”
“We have enough issues.”
“We fucking have more issues than TV Guide.”
“So who needs to get killed by a biker gang? Not me.”
They reached the wheelchair mountain, stopped, gazed up at the crooked pile.
“Be honest,” JKM said. “Am I desecrating the name of Jack Kirby? The man was a god. Sometimes even I think I went too far.”
“Don’t ask me, I’m a Dan Clowes person. Dan Clowes from the neck up, Robert Crumb in the thighs. My thighs are huge.”
“I like your big thighs.”
“Gee thanks.”
“Look, I wasn’t trying to suicide.”
“I know. It’s the testosterone. It makes you go too far sometimes.”
“Anyway what would you do without me? We’re a team. I’ll never let you be in danger.”
“Please. I could go solo. I can handle myself, okay? I can do my thing.”
“I know but don’t waste it on street thugs, let me do it.”
The Halo took his arm.
He
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