#korak

[chernobog13]

Frank Frazetta's cover for Edgar Rice Burroughs' The Son of Tarzan.

[spacenoirdetective]

"Korak at the Earth's Core" by Erik Gist

[tynkrst]

[theamateurhimself]

Out of Stock at the End of the Universe

“Yep, we didn’t get that either.” Stakely sighed, rolling her eyes. Her frazzled teal hair bounced across her brows as she shook her head. Nearly everything on the manifest was highlighted in red, and there wasn’t much more to go.

“So,” Boss Korak leaned back in the creaking swivel chair, removing his spectacles and rubbing the bridge of his nose. His eye lids were discolored from back to back half-rotation shifts, something that the even the Company tried to avoid forcing. “What is it that we did get? Might be a shorter list.”

She scrolled down through the list, seeing more red than clear, the light-pen gliding silently across the screen, catching once or twice on the hairline cracks that spidered their way across the screen. Stakely’s tongue darted in and out of her mouth, muttering a count under her breath as she tallied up just what would be in the vacuum proof shipping crate slotted into the back of the restaurant.

“According to this,” she started, breathing deeply as her mental math wrapped up, “6 cases of buns; 36 bottles of ketchup, 12 Terran, 12 Fromeni, and 12 K’loaren; 2 cases of tomatoes, 2 of onions, and 60 drums of... heavy... duty... mayonnaise?”

“SIXY DRUMS?” The Boss nearly flew out of his chair, snatching the manifest from Stakely’s hands. As he scrolled through, noting that in the attached copy of the ordering form, he found that it was, indeed, filled in for 60 200 liter drums of heavy duty mayonnaise. Without looking up, he made off for the loading airlock in the back of the restaurant where the shipping crate was locked in. Stakely followed, looking towards the nearly empty stainless steel racks in the dry storage. The kitchen was clean, she noted, and it would probably stay clean for a while.

Punching in the airlock’s code, the pneumatic door slid up into the ceiling in an instant, revealing the airlock door of the BX-155 type vacuum-proof food-grade refrigerated that was dropped off an hour ago, emblazoned with the red and gold Stardust Diner corporate logo. That door required a special key, one kept inside the manifest touchpad itself. Boss Korak scanned his retina with the manifest, and the red and gold anodized card popped out of the top like a switchblade. Within a few seconds, the door’s seal broke, and swung inward.

“Holy Jesus,” the Boss exclaimed, as the realization that there wasn’t a mistake on the manifest washed over him. Stakely remained silent, wondering just what was to be done at all today or for the next half-cycle until the next shipment.

Along the back wall of the container, stacked three drums high, five wide, and four rows deep, were sixty massive 200 liter transparent aluminum drums of heavy duty mayonnaise. Nearly half of the six meter container was taken up by the egg and oil based sauce, with the remaining stock of buns, onions, ketchup, and tomatoes stacked humorously in front of it, a testament to the absurdity of the shipment.

Boss Korak slowly turned to look up at Stakely, his expression grim, an uncharacteristic look for the pudgy round face to take. She looked away, hoping to avoid the wrath that is usually imparted to messengers when they deliver bad news. But instead of a booming yell, he spoke in quiet, calm tones. It scared her more than the yelling.

“Do we have any protein in the store?” he asked.

Fetching another pad, this one clipped to her belt like a piece of combat armor, Stakely quickly pulled up the latest inventory, the one taken last night. Korak held his breath, and only the quiet light pen and the low rumble of the restaurant’s life support could be heard.

“Oh, shit!” Stakely exclaimed, and turned heel before Korak could ask her what. He followed her lengthy strides, arriving at the store’s own walk-in refrigerator. Pulling the door open, she gestured inside to a single box marked in a long trinary code.

“That’s it. That’s all we have.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. One box of 60 Grade D, IAUFD Certified, Part GMO, Ham-Type Burgers.”

The both of them paused, and Korak glanced up at Stakely, the metaphorical gears grinding his his head. Darting glances between her and the box of Ham-Type Burgers, he spoke. “You think it’ll last us?”

[omniblades-and-stars]

8 and 9 for Crash and Korak i haven’t been totally normal and not bonkers at all about them in a while

8. Have they had struggles with their identity, be it due to internal or external reasons?

Crash: I don't know that Crash ever struggled with accepting who she was for herself. She bucked against her society's expectations and treatment of her because of her gender, but she did not have a period where she wasn't sure who or what she identified as. But the external pressures were great and terribly and so she just left. Her homeworld failed her, and she felt like she didn't owe it anything just because she is a woman.

Korak: I think Korak may have struggled at first. Not necessarily a great, earth-shattering period of struggle. His life as an older teen and young man was filled with a lot of trouble, both about his identity and just his station in life in general. Realizing that he had no desire to marry a nice batarian girl or have a bunch of kids or keep living under the fucking Hegemony, it was all part of a big upheaval in his life.

9. Are there cultural or lore specific aspects to their identity? If applicable, does their species affect it?

Crash: What? Like how she left Tuchanka feeling bitter and unfairly burdened with the expectations the krogan place on their women for carrying their species forward? Is her identity specific to her culture or species?

No, I don't think so at all.

I'm just kidding, of course her identity has a lot to do with her culture and species. Often times in spite of it. Her choice to leave and go "freelancing" like many of the males of her species do, is informed my her cultural identity. How she presents herself, wearing armor, toting at least one gun at all times, is very much informed by how we see the krogan in the canon operate. Or how we see the men operate.

The part of her that's asexual and aromantic may or may not be informed by her cultural identity. We see a lot of krogan who seem wholly uninterested in "romantic love", but we have some examples of others that do. Regardless, what's most important to her is her friendships, her "found family" if you will. She's happy and fulfilled, and living her best life.

Korak: Honestly, it's difficult for me to answer this one, as we aren't given a lot about batarian culture other than like some basic beats about why they're the worst people ever and the Hegemony sucks (that part is definitely true). So it's hard for me, as I haven't done tons of work figuring out cultural touchstones and social expectations other than really basic like religion stuff, to say what part, if any, of his identity is informed by his culture.

But I think … it would be kind of silly for it not to be. We're all informed by our culture and society, both in the ways that we follow along with it and in the ways we actively push back against it. So, even though I haven't really thought about specifics, of course there are going to be pieces of his identity that are colored by where he was from and how he was raised.

[tomoleary]

Frank Frazetta “The Son of Tarzan” Unpublished Book Cover Illustration Original Art (Ace, 1965) Source

[all-action-all-picture]

1972 ad for Edgar Rice Burroughs' Korak, Son of Tarzan No. 46, 1972. This was the first DC issue and the numbering had continued on from a Gold Key run of the title. The stories were are all written by Len Wein, Korak featured art by Frank Thorne, Carson of Venus by Michael Kaluta and Pellucidar by Alan Weiss.

[pandaimitator]

Giving awesome Jungle girl Meriem her own novel or comic?! Sounds like an excellent idea! Sign the petition and lets get ERB inc on the job.

[onlylonelylatino]

Tarzan, Red Sonja and Korak by Walter Geovani

[welcometopulpland]

Tarzan, Jane, Korak and Meriem

It’s clear that, even by the standards of both his adult life and heyday, Edgar Rice Burroughs himself, while actually fair for the time in terms of gender representation, was somewhat too much of a British Aristocracy fanatic, sheesh. The Disney’s Tarzan franchise can be just as wild as the ERB canon that it spun off from.

Jake Tillman Foushee will play a convincing CGI Tarzan, who brachiates with his hands, tree surfs with his handy feet, and yells out really loudly while pounding his chest.

Bryn Apprill will play a gutsy minded, CGI Jane Porter, a blonde wrench archaeologist who dares to protect herself when in distress?

Matt Shipman will play a powerful CGI Korak, Tarzan’s worthy opponent and ward, whose canon ‘Soap Opera Rapid Aging Syndrome Clone’ counterpart grows up rather too fast, from toddler to tween to adult just within his likely first eight years of life, which is perhaps attributed to the famously egregious writing of Edgar Rice Burroughs.

Meg Bellamy will play a wily CGI Jeanne Meriem, Korak’s equally badass and memorable French girlfriend/wife who will bear him an equally adventurous daughter named Suzanne.

[chernobog13]

Neal Adams' cover for Edgar Rice Burroughs' fourth Tarzan novel, The Son of Tarzan.

[spacenoirdetective]

George Wilson, cover art for "Korak: Son of Tarzan" from Gold Key comics

[cachorrao]

this is a 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖗 ❞ / @c-korak.

𝖆𝖚 𝖆𝖚 │ a floresta dos espíritos lembrava lowell um pouco de casa, da floresta desencantada por isso estava ali, talvez tentando se conectar com seu eu antigo antes de tremerra, talvez entender o que tinha acontecido no luau, com seu pai e o que fazer já que não poderia ignorar o lobo mau pra sempre. ━ aí! ━ o resmungou saiu mais alto do que gostaria, ao ser picado por um dos insetos - infernais - daquele lugar mas como sempre tudo pode ficar pior aparentemente aqueles malditos andavam em bando. ━ mas... que... porra! ━ se jogou um pouco ao notar a quantidade, se um tinha doido imagina mais, além de que se lembrava bem como raven tinha ficado. ━ socorro!!! ━ optou por gritar enquanto corria o mais rápido que podia, estava tão desesperado que não viu korak, se esbarrando com o mesmo com tanta força que acabaram rolando na grama, o corpo doía ainda mais pelo esforço da corrida e pela queda e pelos malditos insetos terem o acalcado porque o porter estava no caminho. ━ se a gente não morrer, eu juro que te mato! ━ resmungou cuspindo grama que não sabia como tinha parado em sua boca.

[omniblades-and-stars]

Aumellio/Korak 37 because I am desperate to learn about the vibe between these two

I am repenting for my recent crimes by bringing you this which may be the only piece of anything I've ever written that actually counts as domestic fluff I think.

Aumellio made Korak laugh and brought him out of his shell a little bit. I hope that shows here.

From this ask meme here.

Favorite Song

A folksy tune floated into kitchen from the open bathroom door. It was followed shortly by Aumellio belting the lyrics as though he were onstage giving a world-class performance before an audience of adoring fans, and as though he could hold a tune in a bucket. Aumellio's one adoring fan smiled and adjusted his headlamp before examining the pipes underneath the kitchen sink to find out why there was water pooled on the floor when he woke up that morning.

Korak tapped his feet together as he fiddled with this fastening andthat fitting. He had turned his translator off, as he frequently did when Aumellio didn't realize he had an audience in a different room who was listening to him make a fool of himself, because Korak enjoyed hearing his turian partner's mother tongue in these little moments. It was so different from his own, but comforting in a way. Besides, he already knew all of the words to the song because it was Aumellio's favorite.

Korak heard the sound of the shower turning off as he tapped the u-bend with his pipe wrench, only for it to come clean out of the fastener. After wiping flecks of water from his eyes, he sighed and activated his translator again so he could understand if Aumellio started talking.

The connecting pipe was cut to short, so when there was a but too much water blasting into it all at once, it popped slightly out of the connection, allowing water to spray out of it.

He should have known better than to run the dishwasher and the washing machine at the same time. The runoff all dumped into the outgoingpipes for the sink, which was not up to code, thank you very much.

But such was life when you lived by simple means. Still, this apartment was better than the last one. At least there weren't bugs or holes in the wall from shotgun slugs. And it was far and away better than any place he'd lived on Omega, for the simple fact that it was not Omega.

A box in an alley was an improvement over that.

"You know, it'll get stuck like that if you don't stop making that face," Aumellio teased at just about the time he gently nudged Korak's leg with his two-toed foot.

Korak lifted his head with a smile, "'Fraid this is how I always look."

"Like you're planning to go back in time to kick the ass of whatever poor sod it was who worked on the plumbing here last?" Aumellio teased. His feet soon disappeared from view, and Korak heard a series of cabinets being opened while his boyfriend looked for some food. "Kor, I seem to remember that we agreed you were going to call the property management people and have them come fix it."

"And wait all day to be able to use our kitchen water again?" Korak asked, incensed. He felt around blindly in his canvas tool bag, pulling out a spare piece of PVC pipe he could graft to the pre-existing one. "Besides, I'll d-"

"Do it right. I know. But if they find out we were messing with theguts of their apartment, we might not get our deposit back."

Korak laughed, a deep rumbling sound, "If you were seeing what I am down here, you'd know that they wouldn't notice even if I just slapped it back together with tape." A ridiculous notion, a man had to take pride in his work. And whoever had done this seemed entirely devoid of it. Korak scooched out from under the sink just enough to catch Aumellio leaning against the kitchen table, watching him while eating from an overfilled bowl of cereal. "Do me a favor and get the heat gun from the chest in the closet?"

Aumellio took a big bite of the colorful cereal, a mischievous glint gathered in his eyes that matched the forest green shade of his family tattoos. After taking his dearest sweet time to savor it, he finally answered, "Oh, I would love to, but you forgot the secret turian sleeper agent activation phrase." Aumellio tilted his spoon back and forth like a metronome as though enough time had passed for him to grow impatient.

Korak heaved a great, dramatic sigh, "Mel, do me a favor and get the heat gun from the tool chest in the closet? Please?"

"Ah hah! You do have manners!" Aumellio exclaimed and set his bowl aside on the table. He stretched his arms high above his head, yawning greatly as he did so. "I needed to finish getting ready for work anyways," he said sleepily. "I'll return shortly with your heat gun. Don't get into trouble while I'm gone."

"Only so much trouble I can cause with my head stuck under a sink." Korak shook his head before lining the spare bit of pipe up next to the old one and marking where he needed to cut it. "If you don't hurry, your cereal's going to go soggy!" he hollered playfully from within his miniature little cavern.

"Maybe I like it like that!" came Mel's response from somewhere in the back of the apartment. Korak knew that for a lie. No one liked soggy cereal.

While he waited, Korak cut the pipe down to size. It was an easy enough thing to do with the right tool, which he had. He probably could have gotten the heat gun for himself, he realized about the time he heard Aumellio humming in the hall closet. Eh, worth waiting for the turian to take his sweet time finding it, even though his tools were very well organized. Of course, Aumellio hardly knew a wrench from a hammer, but a heat gun wasn't exactly one of the universe's grand mysteries.

"Your knight in shining business casual returns from his noble quest," Aumellio crowed and crouched to hand the sort-of gun-shaped tool to Korak. He clapped his hands on his knees, "Welp, I'm off to work. Try not to be too imposing at the hardware store ... I assume you’ll be going and I'll return home to a fully functioning kitchen with a lifetime guarantee on it."

"I keep telling you, my face just looks like this. I didn't scare that kid on purpose." Aumellio began to rise before Korak tugged on his hand. "I think you're forgetting something, Mel."

"Oh right, where are my manners?" Aumellio smiled and leaned down awkwardly to plant a kiss on Korak's lips. The headlamp bumped into the hard plates making up his forehead with a muted clink.

Korak chuckled again with a shake of his head. "Not that I'm complaining, but I really meant your breakfast," he said and tilted his head toward the table where Aumellio's bowl sat cold and abandoned.

Aumellio huffed a laugh and managed to pull himself back up to standing with help from the counter tops. "I'll eat and run!"

Before Korak could advise against Aumellio trying to eat a bowl of cereal while commuting to work, the turian was off to the races and out of the door.

Korak was quite convinced he would get a pleading text message in just a few moments, begging him to please bring a clean shirt down to the office.

Ah well. Korak shrugged, in the meantime he might as well finish fixing the sink well enough that they could at least run water through it. He hummed a tune and tapped his toes together while he worked.

It was his favorite song, too, after all.

[tomoleary]

Rudy Florese - Korak Pin-Up Original Art (1974) Source

[all-action-all-picture]

1973 ad for Korak, Son of Tarzan No. 55. Cover by Joe Kubert. On sale 13 September!