#iconic pulp cover

[inthewychelm]

just a lil taste 🩸

[mote-historie]

Lejaren Hiller, Iconic Pulp Cover: Absinthe, for Flynn's Weekly Detective Fiction Magazine, 1928.

About

On offer is a remarkable published pulp cover painting by Lejaren Hiller (American, 1880-1969), titled Absinthe, for Flynn's Weekly Detective Fiction Magazine - April 21, 1928. Between 1924 and 1939, the artist created hundreds of covers for this long running title, and this is among the most captivating. The image showcases an up-to-the-minute smoking flapper girl feeling strangely fine as the hallucinogenic effects of the bottle of absinthe she has just consumed wash over her body, soul and mind. To further the hedonistic mood, smoke plumes seductively drift off into the cafe where she is seated. The setting evokes the fast-living expatriate Americans who took to Paris after World War I, escaping prohibition and their own demons. We found an interesting visual from the Elspeth Brown book The Corporate Eye, which examines photography as a mass media technology and its influence on the progressive age in American culture. It shows Lejaren Hiller's proof photograph of the model as used to create this now iconic pulp cover. That image is seen below. It is possible that a copy of this photograph was mounted to the illustration board as a guide to Hiller's painting, as he often explored such mixed media methods in his work. Painting is French matted and housed in an antique period fine frame under glass. (x)

[atomic-chronoscaph]

art by Doug P’Gosh

[herpandemonium]

regret giving away my nancy drew collection- now i wish I'd kept them

[thecreaturecodex]

Demon Lord, Orcus

Image © TSR Inc, by Todd Lockwood.

[Sponsored by @tar-baphon. Orcus is one of the iconic D&D villains, and through the SRD and plausible deniability (he's a Roman god!), he's in Pathfinder as well. In Pathfinder, he is deliberately not a power player, and my flavor text takes that already metatextual decision and runs hog wild with it.

A note on the art: I feel like Orcus is emblematic of when D&D was seen as dangerous, and this piece absolutely feels like it should be the cover of a Black Sabbath album. It's no surprise that I was fascinated with the anti-D&D strain of the Satanic Panic when I was a kid. Also, although there has been some course correction in the 5e era, there's a trend with Orcus in a lot of art, including his official Pathfinder depiction, of making Orcus buff. Let Orcus be fat!]

Demon Lord, Orcus CR 28 CE Outsider (extraplanar) This humanoid is a corpulent giant with skin mottled like a decaying corpse. He has great black bat-wings growing from his shoulders, hooves for feet, and the head of a goat. He clutches a short staff, tipped with an oversized human skull.

Orcus, Prince of Undeath CE male demon lord of death, necromancy and wrath Domains  Chaos, Death, Evil, Magic Subdomains Demon, Divine, Murder, Undead Favored Weapon heavy mace Unholy Symbol a goat’s head with curving horns Worshipers liches, necromancers, sapient undead Minions boneclaws, deathdrinkers, demons, other undead For information on his Obedience and boons for his worshipers, see Book of the Damned

Orcus is one of the most powerful demon lords in the Universe. But not on Golarion. On that world, his is one of a number of undead cults, and not nearly the most popular. Orcus has a clear hierarchy to what undead he considers truly worthy, with those created from contagion seen as inferior to accident, and those inferior to those who intentionally seek out undeath. His most dedicated worshippers on Golarion are liches, some of whom have learned the secret of crafting a phylactery by teasing apart the Prince of Undeath’s wisdom from his threats. The followers of many other undead-focused religions, particularly vampires and ghouls, see Orcus as pretentious and unworthy of dedication, although few are foolish enough to directly oppose him.

Orcus himself knows that his star has fallen. In his extensive research into planar lore, Orcus has learned that he was once the most feared being in another universe, who went on a killing spree that left several gods dead and an entire race of lawful outsiders duped into being his pawns. That Orcus cannot accomplish this level of power in this version of reality vexes and frustrates him, and he takes his rage out on his minions as much as he does his foes.

Orcus is a genius tactician, although his temper sometimes gets the better of him. He enjoys combat as a distraction from his cosmic-level sulk, and as a way of expressing his power over others. He typically opens combat with a time stop to summon allies and cast defensive spells on himself, and then unleashes a potent death effect as soon as the duration expires. Against creatures that can resist his negative energy and poison, he uses dispelling magic. On more than one occasion, Orcus has beaten a cocky archmage to a pulp by centering an antimagic field on himself and wading into combat.

Orcus in the Great Game Orcus’ response to the brewing theomachy between Mormo and Lamashtu is cautious optimism. He desires more power in the Abyss, and Lamashtu could open the door for him to seize it. Kabriri and Zura are at the top of Orcus’ hit list, but views a direct assault on them as currently too risky to be worth the effort. If one of them were to make a move against Lamashtu and be punished for it, or if they were struck down in the scramble for power following Lamashtu’s (theoretical) demotion or demise, Orcus would happily swoop in to finish them off.  And if Mormo is capable of legitimately slaying a god, Orcus will be very keen to study her techniques.

Wand of Orcus (major artifact) The Wand of Orcus is the Prince of Undeath’s scepter of office, and it never leaves his side. Lesser versions have appeared in the Material Plane, often created by Orcus or one of his high-level clerics. The real Wand of Orcus is a Huge +5 anarchic, unholy heavy mace. In the hands of a demon, it grants a +4 profane bonus to Armor Class. The first time the Wand of Orcus strikes a living creature in a round, that creature is subject to a slay living spell (DC 30). Weight 24 lbs.; CL 25th

Demon Lord, Orcus        CR 28 XP 4,915,200 CE Huge outsider (chaos, demon, evil, extraplanar) Init +11; Senses arcane sight, darkvision 120 ft., detect good, detect law, Perception +48, true seeing Aura frightful presence (120 ft., DC 36), undead obedience (120 ft., Will DC 36), unholy (DC 28)

Defense AC 47, touch 23, flat-footed 40(-2 size, +7 Dex, +4 deflection, +4 profane, +24 natural) hp 709(33d10+528); regeneration 30 (deific or mythic) Fort +31, Ref +29, Will +34 DR 20/cold iron, epic and good; Immune ability damage, ability drain, charm, compulsion, death effects, electricity, energy drain, petrification and poison; Resist acid 30, cold 30, fire 30; SR 39 Defensive Abilities Abyssal resurrection, freedom of movement, negative energy affinity

Offense Speed 40 ft., fly 60 ft. (average) Melee Wand of Orcus +51/+46/+41/+36 (3d6+20 plus 2d6 chaos and 2d6 evil/19-20), claw +44 (1d8+7), sting (2d4+7 plus poison), gore (2d6+7) or 2 claws +46 (1d8+15), sting +46 (2d4+15 plus poison), gore +46 (2d6+15) Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft. Special Attacks epic spellcasting, powerful charge (gore, 4d6+22) Spell-like Abilities CL 28th, concentration +38 (+42 casting defensively) Constant—arcane sight, detect good, detect law, freedom of movement, true seeing, unholy aura (DC 28, self only) At will—animate dead*, astral projection, blasphemy* (DC 27), circle of death* (DC 28), create undead, enervation*, greater dispel magic, greater teleport, plane shift* (DC 25), telekinesis* (DC 25), unholy blight* (DC 24) 3/day—control undead (DC 29), create greater undead, energy drain (DC 31), finger of death* (DC 29), quickened greater dispel magic, quickened harm*, summon demons or undead, symbol of death (DC 30) 1/day—power word kill*, time stop*, true resurrection, wail of the banshee (DC 31) * Orcus can use the mythic version of this spell-like ability in his domain Spells Prepared CL 20th, concentration +32 (+36 casting defensively) 9th—energy drain (DC 33), etherealness, mage’s disjunction* (D, DC 31), overwhelming presence (DC 31), soul bind (DC 33), wail of the banshee (DC 33) 8th —cloak of chaos (DC 30), fire storm* (DC 30), greater spell immunity, horrid wilting (DC 32), orb of the void* (DC 32), protection from spells (D), unholy aura (DC 30) 7th —control weather, destruction (DC 31), greater scrying (DC 29, x2), repulsion, spell turning (D), waves of exhaustion 6th —antilife shell, antimagic field (D), banshee blast (DC 30), blade barrier* (DC 28), geas/quest, harm* (DC 30), mass bull’s strength 5th —dispel good (DC 27), flame strike (DC 27), greater command (DC 27), mass ghostbane dirge (DC 27), righteous might, suffocation (D, DC 29), vampiric shadow shield 4th —contagion (DC 28), death ward (D), divine power (x2), rest eternal, sending (x2)*, tongues 3rd —bestow curse (x2, DC 27), prayer*, protection from energy, rage (D, DC 25), ray of exhaustion, vampiric touch*, water breathing 2nd —bear’s endurance (x2), death knell (D, DC 26), desecrate, owl’s wisdom (x2), resist energy, spiritual weapon* 1st —bane (DC 25), divine favor (x2), entropic shield, identify (D), ray of enfeeblement* (DC 25), sanctuary (DC 23), shield of faith* 0th—bleed (DC 24), detect magic, light, read magic *—Orcus may use the mythic version of this spell in his Abyssal domain

Statistics Str 40, Dex 25, Con 42, Int 30, Wis 35, Cha 31 Base Atk +33; CMB +50; CMD 71 Feats Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Craft Magic Arms and Armor, Craft Rod, Craft Wondrous Item, Flyby Attack, Greater Spell Focus (necromancy), Greater Spell Penetration, Improved Critical (heavy mace), Improved Initiative, Hover, Multiattack, Mythic Spell Lore (B), Power Attack, Quicken SLA (greater dispel magic, harm), Spell Focus (necromancy), Spell Penetration Skills Bluff +46, Craft (alchemy, weaponsmithing) +46, Fly +36, Intimidate +43, Knowledge (arcana, planes, religion) +46, Knowledge (dungeoneering, history) +43, Perception +48, Sense Motive +48, Spellcraft +46, Stealth +35, Survival +45, Use Magic Device +46 Languages Abyssal, Common, Draconic, Infernal, Necril, telepathy 300 ft. SQ demon lord traits, master of death

Ecology Environment any land or underground (Abyss) Organization unique Treasure triple standard (Wand of Orcus, other treasure)

Special Abilities Aura of Undead Obedience (Su) Any undead creature within 120 feet that attempts to make a hostile action against Orcus must succeed a DC 36 Will save or be unable to take that action, wasting it. The save DC is Charisma based. Epic Spellcasting (Ex) Orcus gains Mythic Spell Lore as a bonus feat. Once per day, he can use one of his spell-like abilities or spells as if it was a mythic spell without spending a use of mythic power. This allows him to use a mythic spell or spell-like ability outside of his Abyssal domain, but he cannot augment that spell or spell-like ability by spending additional uses of mythic power. Master of Death (Ex) Orcus applies his Spell Focus and Greater Spell Focus (necromancy) feats to his spell-like abilities. Death effects created by Orcus, including the Wand of Orcus in his hands, ignore immunity to death effects except for those granted by creature type, or from deific or mythic sources. Poison (Ex) Sting—injury; save Fort DC 42; duration 1/round for 4 rounds; damage 1d6 Str and 1d6 Con; cure 2 consecutive saves. A creature reduced to 0 Str by Orcus’ poison cannot breathe and begins to suffocate. The save DC is Constitution based. Spells Orcus can cast spells as a 20th level cleric, and can prepare necromancy spells from the sorcerer/wizard list as if they were cleric spells. He gets access to domain slots, and can fill them with spells from any of his domains or subdomains. He can also spontaneously cast inflict spells as an evil cleric can. Summon Demons and Undead (Sp) When Orcus summons demons, he can also summon undead creatures.

[uwmspeccoll]

Steamy Saturday

The novel that dares to tell the truth about a perverse love.

Theirs was a love no man could share!

Draga yielded her long-legged girlishness to unnatural embraces. . . . it was an ecstasy such as Draga had never known.

Her lips were tender and clinging as she pressed them to Jo's voluptuous flesh. . . .

She was on the brink of total perversion. . . . Draga's only hope now was -- a man!

Oh, the steaminess of it all!! Carol Emory's pulp novel Queer Affair was published in New York as a Beacon Book, an imprint of Universal Publishing and Distributing Corp., in 1957, and even by today's standards, the sexual frankness of the novel is pretty steamy. Unfortunately, because it's the 1950s, a fully-realized lesbian relationship will not stand. At least one of the partners has to be off her nut (in this case, Jo), while in the end male heroes come to the rescue.

The story centers around up-and-coming dancer Draga Hamilton who is introduced to celebrity sculptor Jo Stanhope by Draga's lawyer Gilbert Young who is desperately in love with Jo. Jo, however, has other ideas, as she seduces the vulnerable Draga and they begin a torrid love affair, which, as already stated, is quite frankly narrated. Draga is head-over-heels, until of course her old flame Ronnie Marsh shows up on the scene and ruins everything for Jo.

In the end, the whole sordid love quadrangle literally devolves into a barely-suppressed S&M encounter. Jo takes her revenge on Draga's infidelity by grabbing a bullwhip that is inexplicably hung on the wall and beats Draga almost senseless with it. The whipping, however, sends both into a building sexual frenzy until both Gilbert and Ronnie come bursting through the door. Ronnie whisks Draga out of harm's way (at least as he perceives it), and Gilbert gives Jo a taste of her own whipping medicine, to which both react with this memorable passage:

Jo Stanhope looked up at him with misted eyes. "Oh, Gilbert -- you've done something for me. You've rescued me. Why, it--it was --" "Never mind," Gilbert said. "And you won't find it so bad being married to me. After all, I'm sort of womanish, you know."

Meanwhile, Draga is recovering in Ronnie's soothing arms, to which she responds, "Move over a little, sweetheart . . . I want to sit in your lap." THE END. Ugh!!

Despite Queer Affair being mentioned in several texts on early lesbian pulp novels, we could find nothing on the author Carol Emory, who we suspect is possibly a man. Nevertheless, the author makes sure early on that the reader knows Emery has done their homework on lesbianism:

Gilbert had warned her that the sculptress was a lesbian, but at the time the fact had seemed to her irrelevant. Love between women was not altogether a new and startling idea to Draga. She had read many books on the subject, including those by Radclyffe Hall and Diana Fredericks.

Appropriately, Barbara Grier, in her iconic The Lesbian in Literature, gives Queer Affair a rating of A for having "a major lesbian component but not sympathetically portrayed." While we may not know who Carol Emory is, we do know that the butch/femme cover art is by Frank Uppwall and was first painted for another pulp novel, Gutter Star by Dorine B. Clark, published in 1954, and then reissued for the cover of Queer Affair three years later.

View more posts on lesbian romance fiction.

View more LGBTQ+ posts.

View other pulp fiction posts.

[chernobog13]

Artist James Bama’s original painting of Doc Savage for the Bantam Books 1964 edition of The Man of Bronze.  This is the first of 62 covers of the 96-book series that Bama would paint.

Steve Holland, star of a short-lived Flash Gordon television series in the 1950s, was Bama’s model of choice, given his rugged features and physique.  As seen in the painting, Bama matched Holland’s hair closely to give Doc a more realistic look.  It also closely resembles how Doc was pictured in the original pulp series and comic books.

However, Bantam’s art director, Len Leone, who was a big Doc Savage fan, didn’t want “normal” hair for Doc; he wanted a look that conveyed that Doc was no ordinary man.

Doc’s hair is described in the pulps as a darker shade of bronze than his skin, and that Doc usually wore it combed back so that it resembled a skullcap made of bronze.  Leone wanted that look.  He also mandated a widow’s peak which he said had been mentioned in the pulps; this a matter of small controversy because many fans don’t recall anything about the widow’s peak ever being mentioned.

Nevertheless, Bama did as he was told by his boss, and changed Doc’s hair in the painting.

Thus was born the iconic Doc Savage look that has prevailed to this day.

[talenlee]

3e: The Love Potion

We’re all kind of on the page that ‘love potions’ in stories are probably bad, right?

Those things that you could buy in 3e as a cheap, disposable magical item?

It’s one of those tropes from history that people used pretty freely up until like, even until 2013. Gravity Falls featured an episode about a character using a love potion, and then realising it was a foolish plan and going to undo it, only to find that, y’know, maybe it was an okay idea after all. And that was Gravity Falls, a cartoon I like. Shock! Horror! And that’s a bad trope and all!

Love potions show up in stories all over the place, and that makes them an iconic trope and I feel like they go through a sort of life cycle. In their oldest appearances — as I remember and are filtered through the mind of a boy like me — the love potion is a solution to a problem. Then, as things get a little more protestant, a little more puritanical, love potions tend to be set up in the first part of the story, and then developed and dismissed in the second part. Love potions are a thing you think will solve your problems, then you find they don’t.

There are a lot of reasons they can fail. They can fail because you find out that the person you love-potioned, you don’t actually want them in love with you. They can fail because you find out that the potion doesn’t make them love you the way that you imagined. They can fail just because love potions aren’t real but now you have to consider what it meant that you tried. They can fail because they have to destroy the way the person you were interested in order to work, somehow. And of course sometimes they can fail because you mess up their application like spilling it on a bird or something.

Lots of different ways that ‘the love potion’ is a setup that gets subverted. In fact, so much so that, especially in reset-heavy pulp media like sitcoms and weekly dramas, love potions fit the mould really conveniently. The subversion means that the characters undo the love potion by the end, and that’s that. It’s a tidy little plot loop, and the form it’s poured into handles it just fine. Makes sense.

Why can ya buy ’em?

Look, 3rd edition was a hungry beast. It needed content, content, content and a lot of what it needed never made sense to me. I did not think I needed as many versions of ‘human, but ugly and weird’ as the game books provided me. I never needed the flying mount rules, or the keep rules. They were nice, ostensibly but they weren’t useful, because they weren’t focused on the game played by players and instead on a sort of systemitising the world. This is a reasonable thing for a system to do when it wants to do it, I’m not criticising them for the choice, but that the choice put the way D&D 3E was built at odds with the way I expected to play it.

You’d see this throughout supplements, in Dragon Magazines and soft cover splatbooks; sometimes there was a cool idea that the game could do and that cool idea ran headlong into the system’s design. A gladiatorial campaign? Cool idea, here are maps and opponents. Oh, the system isn’t designed to make one-on-one fights very interesting for the uninvolved parties and dying represents an immense debt? Hm, sounds like the real thing this system needs is loans and banking. Oh wait, but if you’re doing gladiatorial fighs, how do you get loot from enemies? You can’t loot the bodies, that belongs to their stable! There’s got to be a payment system!

And thus we return to the love potion. The love potion was in the Dungeon Master’s Guide (and SRD, even now!) because it’s an obvious trope, the item works in a simple, easily explained way, and it fills some inches in the book that needs so, so many inches filled. The item is built by a formula, it works to a rule and it kind of rests on a leyline of things D&D 3e doesn’t do very well.

First of all, the item gives a save. Well it has to right, because otherwise it’d be overpowered. But saving throws aren’t like, narratively coherent things. They’re there to defend you from attacks, but ostensibly, they’re there to represent how well your body resists things changing it (which was why you can resist healing spells and, in some cases, are called upon to do so, which is, yes, dumb). Don’t worry, though, the DC is really low: Only a DC 14. Which means an ordinary human with nothing heroic going on has about a 30% chance to ignore it and it lasts for 1d3 hours.

Thus we position the elixir of love perfectly badly. It’s a magic item that an adventurer can buy in bulk, that they never would care about, that represents life-deforming mind control, but not for very long and not very well. It promises what a love potion in a story is, but delivers instead a very crap charm spell, which is the closest thing it can approximate to love because the game system wants to try and systemitise love without dealing with how incredibly overpowered love is. There’s no category of ‘minor effect’ or ‘story beat’ for magical items, which need to be built to instead, operate the way adventurers expect adventurers to work.

The Elixir of Love doesn’t actually represent anything particularly heinous. Nothing out of type. It’s a love potion, but because it sucks it’s not that bad, and nobody would use it, except because it sucks, and that it sucks isn’t because of the story needs but because of the way the mechanics of the system handle items. It’s the same wonky stuff that permeates 3e. Systems aren’t immune to this. My favourite system isn’t immune to this kind of thing!

Still pretty funny way to waste a year’s wages for a normal person.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[sweetsavageflame]

Covers of the Week #131: Steve Holland

Sweet Savage Flame’s Covers of the Week #131 showcases some vintage romance novel covers featuring the legendary model Steve Holland.

Known as THE “Illustrator’s Model,” Steve Holland. Holland was a 20th-century icon who modeled for comics, magazines, pulps, and mass-market paperbacks.

[jmg-digitalhistoryuta]

Black characters of Marvel Comics

If you can't tell over the past few blogs, I grew up as a DC Comics fan, watching the cartoons like Batman the Animated Series, Static Shock, and Justice League Unlimited. We could even spend another week going over the black characters in DC's Independent Vertigo Imprint, black superheroes from the Indie Comics studio WildStorm, like Deathblow, or other black DC characters like Green Lantern John Stewart, Bronze Tiger, Steel, and Mr. Terrific. Instead, we are finally going over the black history of Marvel comics, all be it, briefly.

Marvel started out as Timely Comics in 1939 by pulp magazine publisher Martin Goodman to capitalize on the growing comic book and superhero market, creating Golden age superheroes like the Android Jim Hammond who was the Original Human Torch, Captain America, and the Sub-Mariner. Superheroes fell to the wayside after WWII, so in 1951 Timely Comics became Atlas Magazines, publishing Sci Fi and Adventure comics more than superheroes. One of their characters was Prince Waku of the Bantu, from the anthology series Jungle Tales, first released in 1954. During the early 1960s Stan Lee and artists like Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko led Atlas Magazines into becoming Marvel Comics, their first black hero was not Black Panther but Gabe Jones, a soldier a part of Nick Fury's Howling Commandos, coming out in Sgt. Fury #1 in 1963. The next character is the infamous Black Panther, T'Challa first leaped on the newspaper print in Fantastic Four #52 in 1966, inviting Marvel's first family to help him defeat the dastardly Klaw in his home country of Wakanda.

Three years later Captain America's sidekick Flacon flew to the page Captain America (1968) #117 in 1969, helping him defeat the Exiles and the Red Skull. Later, inspired by the Black Exploitation films like Shaft, and Superfly, Marvel published Luke Cage, aka Power Man, this one was a street level hero who patrolled the streets of Harlem and eventually partnered with the martial arts hero Iron Fists. Later in Power Man (1974) #24 Dr. Bill Foster's superhero alter ego Black Goliath was first introduced, a superhero who can become a giant and helped Luke Cage take on the Circus of Crime. A year later Marvel published Giant-Size X-Men #1, by writer Len Wein and artist Dave Cockrum, the first appearance of heroes like Colossus, Nightcrawler, and the iconic mutant hero Storm. Not all of Marvel's characters in the 1960s and 70s were as iconic as Storm and Black Panther, one of the most niche characters over the years is Jericho Drumm, aka Brother Voodoo from Strange Tales #169 in 1973. Created by Len Wein, John Romita Sr., Stan Lee, and Roy Thomas, Jericho was a practicing psychologist, who visited his brother in Daniel in their home country Haiti. After Daniel died from the hands of a rival Voodoo priest, Jericho visited his brother's mentor Papa Jambo, becoming the hero Brother Voodoo.

Marvel has had many more black characters added to their roster over the years. For this project it feels important to add almost all of them throughout the 60s and 70s, regardless of their status as a hero, villain, or supporting role. By the mid to late 2000s it's important to mainly cover the bigger events, primarily ending on Miles Morales Spider-man for simplicity.

[savage-rhi]

Mending Shadows // Chapter 2

Summary:

Y/N was a simple Scavenger of Lucis, until meeting a deadly blow at the hands of an infected creature. At the crossroads of death, they are found by Niflheim’s cryptic Chancellor with his own agenda. Now bonded to Ardyn Izunia, and tossed into the world of Niflheim, Y/N struggles to cope with their new life as an Imperial Icon all the while battling their feelings toward their fate and that of Ardyn’s.

Click here to read on AO3

A thrumming shiver traveled down Y/N’s exposed foot. Instinctively, they pulled the limb into the warmth of Ardyn’s jacket. A continuous stream of memories poured through Y/N’s subconscious and invaded what dreamless rest they had. It felt so real, that Y/N could smell the dry earth beneath their feet. The sky was warm, and the sound of cars grew distant with each passing step. The rattling sound of tools in their backpack soothed their boredom during the long trek. They were back home. Back in the field.

The cave systems near Keycatrich offered shelter from the harsh heat of the Leide region. It was also a place where several Hunters got lost. Many had perished in the area alone, never to be heard from again. Y/N liked sticking with easier jobs and yet felt temptation take control of reason. Adventure was a powerful drug that pulled them toward the desolate lands.

Scavenging for parts to trade and sell was Y/N’s specialty in Lucis. Y/N enjoyed the work because they didn’t have to adhere to a set schedule. It made every day an interesting one. Hunters commonly joked that Y/N had it rough, but Y/N begged to differ. Time crunches were not something Y/N liked putting themself through, and Hunters, unfortunately, endured the brunt of that. Jobs in the Leide region weren’t too fun. Most people would break before their first month, but being a Scavenger was the right fit for Y/N. They got just enough gil to keep pursuing it.

When Takka--the head chef of the Hammerhead Pit Stop--put out word he was looking for rare material on behalf of Cid the mechanic, Y/N saw a rare opportunity. Y/N figured if they could get in good with Cid, they could extend their Scavenging services further South with the points added to their reputation. More jobs equaled more gil, and more gil would apply to a house. That was a dream. To have a piece of something to call their own. Now, it was a distant thought.

Y/N ventured deeper into the caves than intended. Though instinct told them to be alert, they came across remnants of a turbocharger and immediately zeroed in on the object. The car piece had seen better days, but most of the integral parts looked decent enough. Y/N started adjusting the charger, breaking it down into smaller chunks to put in their backpack when a snarling sound echoed throughout the mouth of the cave. As soon as Y/N looked up in the direction of the noise, it was too late.

The goblin emerged from the shadows and grabbed a hold of Y/N’s right arm. Its teeth sunk deeply into Y/N’s flesh, thrashing about like a shark that swam up on unsuspecting prey. Dark eyes rolled into the back of its head. The inhuman screeches that oozed past its feral maw bounced against the walls of the cave, like crackling thunder.

Violent growls intermingled with Y/N’s screams. Somehow during the altercation, Y/N grabbed the charger and began beating the goblin’s skull in until the creature was nothing but a bloody pulp. Panting heavily, Y/N tore their arm away from the goblin’s mouth. Horror fell upon their gaze while looking at their arm, seeing bloody muscle and tendons pulsate with every breath they took.

A series of nervous ticks and jolts emitted from the corpse, and the goblin disappeared into a cloud of dark particles. Before Y/N could cover their wound, much less their mouth and nose, the miasma immediately went to the closest living thing it could latch onto.

For several seconds, Y/N couldn’t breathe. Their lungs constricted as if a hand had reached into the cavity of their chest and crushed their ribs. Blood rushed to their head and they fell over gagging. Y/N’s coughs were so heavy that bile pushed through their throat. Huge chunks of food material they had yet to digest were ejected from their mouth. It lasted for several seconds before Y/N passed out.

When Y/N came to, the morning sky had long passed. Y/N weakly crawled onto their knees, feeling their vision fading in and out of time before pausing. A dull ache settled all throughout their nerves, akin to the constriction of the common cold before a full-blown fever would make its debut.

The first thing Y/N looked at was their arm, observing how mangled it was. Pockets of blood oozed from the puncture marks whenever Y/N flexed, causing them to grimace. At this point, the turbocharger didn’t matter. Nothing did but to get the hell out of this place before more creatures caught a whiff of them.

Y/N normally wasn’t one to cry, but while they traversed through the cave region the tears never ceased. They had been through physical and mental hardship like most folks, yet this was another level Y/N wasn’t used to. There was something incredibly wrong with their body. As if a passenger latched onto them. Though the being didn’t have control of the car, it was in the backseat reminding the driver--this case, reminding Y/N--that it was there. Watching Y/N’s every move and calculating the next. The sensations were visceral and terrifying.

“Hey!” Y/N shouted upon seeing the headlights of a car come into view. They were relieved to see the main road, and that people were still traveling in the area.

“Stop! Please!” Y/N pleaded, waving their arms up over their head. The strain of the bite felt as if someone took a hammer to the spot and Y/N yelped out. They immediately retreated the injured limb, waving the other that was intact.

Y/N observed the car pull over and out came two men and a woman. From their attire, two of them appeared to be Hunters. The woman looked like a Glaive due to the black-colored clothes they donned. It was difficult to be certain unless she said otherwise.

“Are you alright?” One of the men hollered as the trio sprinted to Y/N.

“Who’s hurt? What do you need?!” The woman joined in.

“I’ve been attacked! I need he--”  A sharp pain overtook the entire right side of Y/N's body. They fell onto their knees, no longer able to keep themself afloat. The noise of their own heartbeat began to pulse in their eardrums. It was so loud that Y/N couldn’t hear the voices of the Glaive and Hunters as they drew closer. Then there was a terrible sensation. A crawling feel worked its way from Y/N’s abdomen across every nerve, and at the precipice, explosions went off inside them.

One by one, Y/N felt their entire nervous system erupt with pain so unfathomable, that no words could hold a torch. No sounds even dared left Y/N for they were paralyzed by immense suffering. To add insult to injury, Y/N sensed there was something in their head. Another voice. Inhuman and full of whisperings. Y/N couldn’t understand a single word but knew that something awful was going to happen.

“H-Help me!” Y/N snarled while their body convulsed. They began to lose consciousness while black veins sprouted from the bite on their arm, and Y/N's eyes began to turn a muddy black. Their vision blurred, and the world stretched until there was nothing left but darkness, the sound of their heartbeat, and a powerful instinct telling them to hunt. Y/N was no longer in control. They were somewhere else, having no clue as to what their body was performing on its own behalf.

By the time the Glaive and Hunters approached and saw what was happening, they summoned their weapons. However, it wasn’t quick enough. Bestial screeches ripped through Y/N’s throat and their body launched itself at the trio. Yells tore through the Leide region. The sound of weapons meeting claws and flesh permeated the atmosphere until eventually all fell to silence.

Hours later, Y/N gasped and their eyes shot open. Their mouth was parched and they started to cough. Somehow they weakly rolled onto their side and heaved, throwing up dark black bile that tasted awfully sweet. Y/N choked on a scream and scrambled backward on all fours, only to bump into something soft yet cold. Y/N’s skin trembled and they looked downward. The shock was indescribable as they looked into the lifeless eyes of one of the Hunters. The body had been ravaged beyond compare.

“Gods--!” Y/N exclaimed, scrambling once again only to meet another body. Then the other.

On their knees, Y/N slowly brought their hands up to their face, seeing a dark shade of red covering both limbs. The terror in Y/N’s eyes was unfathomable and so was the shocking revelation: they had killed these people. These random folks who had tried to help them; who had done nothing wrong but simply arrived at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Penitence didn’t come close to the immense shame that transcended Y/N’s being as a fellow human. Never in their life did they take pleasure in hurting things. Not even the damned goblin from before. It wasn’t something Y/N had ever felt an inclination toward. Self-defense was one thing, they themself had to do that before in life, but killing was another game. And gods be damned, Y/N didn’t want to become a pawn on that board. Yet here they were. Dawning on the realization that from head to toe, they were covered in blood, having snatched away the lives of people who had families and loved ones who’d never see them again. Heavy sobs began to leave Y/N’s body. Their tears never ceased once guilt had fully awakened.

“Oh no…no, no, no, no, no!” Y/N shook their head rapidly and their heart began to race upon seeing the markings of the scourge travel down both sides of their wrists. Y/N needed to run. They needed to calm their mind and do something other than sit among the dead. The contrast of black against red made them more fearful as they struggled to stand. Y/N collapsed several times in their panic, not realizing that they had been considerably wounded by the trio during the attack.

“Over here!” A deep masculine voice suddenly brought Y/N’s attention elsewhere. Y/N immediately turned around, only to be blinded by a powerful light. Their pupils constricted, and their skin began to burn. Out of instinct they yelled and brought their right arm up to shield their eyes, and then more voices began to encroach upon the scene. Y/N couldn’t tell how many there were, for five pairs of feet sounded like a thousand in the midst of their confusion.

“Oh, gods!” Another exclaimed.

“T-they’re dead?”

“We were too late!”

“I knew we should’ve patched in as soon as we got the distress call!”

“Damn it!”

Though blinded by the light, Y/N dragged themself closer to the group in an attempt to receive aid. Through the shadows and brightness, Y/N could scarcely make out that these people were part of the royal guard. The uniforms bore striking resemblance to the woman Y/N had slain, the Glaive. However, there was something amiss. Y/N wasn’t accustomed to meeting officials, but they did know that the dark uniforms normally didn’t have red patches on the right shoulder. These people had to have been part of a different faction.

“P-please…!” Y/N pleaded through hoarse breath and sobs. “I didn’t mean for this to happen! Please help me! H-help them…! T-they can’t all be dead!”

“Shut it! Sir, the infected is still alive. How should we proceed?”

Y/N’s heart thundered powerfully in their chest, pulse bobbing into their throat at the sound of footsteps drawing near. The damned light hurt so bad, they couldn’t see who was coming. As sensory overload began to take control, the fear they had been enduring began to grow tenfold.

“Daemonification must’ve been recent. The bite marks on their arm look fresh.” The man sighed morosely. Whether it was because he felt pity towards Y/N or the dead was anybody’s guess. Perhaps both.

“You know the drill, call up MedZin. I’m sure having another person to study will help them find a cure for the scourge outbreak.”

“Study?” Y/N muttered to themself. There was nothing sinister to the man’s tone of voice, but the word triggered a primal instinct within them to be weary.

“Are you sure it’s worth the trouble?” One of the female soldiers inquired, making eye contact with her commander and fellow troops before gesturing to the bodies. “Considering the circumstances, it might be too risky turning this person over to MedZin.”

“If they were too far gone, there’d be no hesitation: a bullet between the eyes.” The leader bitterly stated. He looked upon Y/N’s quaking body and shook his head while continuing to speak to his comrade. “The outbreak in Lucis is getting worse. We need to keep it contained, yes, but if we are to survive this plague we need knowledge. That is why King Regis put our unit together in the first place. We stand at the frontlines of a bigger war than the one with Niflheim, and the only way our scientists stand a chance of curing this thing is if they have fresh bodies.”

The last of his words sent Y/N’s mind into a frenzy. Flashes of grotesque images sprang forth of themself being carved up and dissected; locked away in the dark somewhere with no one knowing what had become of them. The faces of their friends and loved ones invaded soon after, followed by the looks of horror the trio had before they were slain. Logically, the punishment did fit the crime and then some, but if Y/N were going to perish, it couldn’t be like this. No. Not when they knew it wasn’t their fault entirely.

Y/N attempted to make a run for it. Their injured legs could only carry them so far. It didn’t take long before two of the men caught up. One grabbed hold of Y/N’s scalp so tight and yanked backward that Y/N screamed and fell. While crying out due to a gash in their leg being ripped further apart, Y/N’s voice hitched and they felt themself being dragged away.

“I-I didn’t mean to hurt them! Don’t do this!” Y/N bellowed, finding it difficult to breathe through their nose. “I’m a Lucian citizen! I’m one of you! P-please, don’t! Please help them back there! T-they can’t be dead! They can’t!”

“Quiet!” One of the men commanded. “MedZin will ensure you’ll live out your days without pain. There’s nothing we can do for someone infected with the scourge.”

“Y-you can’t treat me like this!” Y/N sobbed, finding it difficult to speak because of how scratchy their voice had become. “I didn’t want to hurt them! I need help! S--something bit me! I’m not a monster! That wasn’t me! I’m not a monster!”

A strong weight hit the back of Y/N’s head, then another, and another. They tried to hold onto consciousness; fearing that the dark passenger inside of their body would take over again. It was of no use. The last thing Y/N registered was one of the guards muttering a response to their question:

“Unfortunately, you’re one now…”

Y/N suddenly jolted awake. A loud noise echoed throughout their ears in a rhythmic pulse while the upper half of their body rose from the couch. They blinked and rubbed their eyes, taking in a deep breath.

“Well, well, well,” Ardyn’s amused tone tore through Y/N’s ears. “I was about to wake you. Luckily, this is convenient for us both.”

Even with Ardyn's words, Y/N was still comprehending they were not in the cave nor under the mercy of crownsguard. Y/N looked around for a moment, processing where they were then planted their feet on the floor. Ardyn’s jacket slipped down their body, bundling up around their waist.  They tilted their head and observed Ardyn. He was pacing around what looked to be a hotel room. The area smelled pristine, but it wasn’t foul. Unlike the hospital residency at MedZin which was so sterile in the scent that it was nauseating.

“You mumble in your sleep. It’s a wonder I got any rest myself with how obnoxious you were.” Ardyn sighed and smiled. It wasn’t a friendly one. The smile was akin to an unpleasant smugness that grew when he noticed Y/N ignore his remark.

“Gods, how long was I out for?” Y/N grimaced, rubbing their forehead.

“Two days at most,” Ardyn said as a matter of fact. He finished buttoning up his vest, smoothing out the material against his abdomen then turned his attention to Y/N. “For what it’s worth, you didn’t miss out on much.”

“I’m sure whatever you experienced without me was riveting,” Y/N muttered with sarcasm, secretly hoping his ears wouldn’t catch onto their words.

“I assure you, it wasn’t.”

“At the very least it must’ve been nice having a break from someone arguing with you all the time.”

Ardyn snorted and rolled down one of the sleeves of his white shirt. “On the contrary, I was rather bored.”

“I thought my presence was an inconvenience to you.” Y/N stretched their arms.

“I never said it wasn’t,” Ardyn countered. He briefly looked up at Y/N and then continued to roll down the opposite sleeve. “You’d do well to remember not to pry where you don’t belong, regarding my thought or concern. ”

“That a threat?” Y/N’s body tensed seeing Ardyn smirk. His golden eyes scanned over their form with a predatory glimmer that was mischievous, and Y/N reminded themself that this was no ordinary man they settled their lot with.

“I’ll leave that to your imagination, my dear,” Ardyn chuckled.

Y/N turned their head away, not wanting to look him in the eye. They could feel Ardyn still lingering until his attention went elsewhere. The rhythmic buzz from his cell phone tore him away for now.

While Ardyn tended to his personal affairs via texting, Y/N got up from the couch and headed to where they assumed the bathroom was.

“Make a left,” Ardyn said bluntly then gestured with his right hand while he texted with the other, keeping his eyes intently focused on the screen.

Y/N sighed through their nose and followed his direction. Sure enough, the bathroom was where he said. They limped inside the small room. A mirror was above the sink, and Y/N carefully examined themself. Their color was present. No longer the murky pale they had been greeted to during the night Ardyn and they escaped the MedZin facility. Y/N made a note to themself to ask Ardyn what happened. Everything past the explosion was a blur.

Y/N pulled down the collar of their shirt, revealing spiderweb patches of purples and blacks snaking across their flesh. Their nostrils flared from the peculiar sweet smell that emitted from their skin. It was similar to nectarines being left to rot. Y/N shook their head in disappointment. The scourge wasn’t going to give up easily. The pain wasn’t so terrible today, but they ached everywhere.

“How are you fairing?”

Y/N turned their head, surprised to see Ardyn’s body in the frame of the entrance. A look of worry was etched on his features. For a moment, Y/N thought he may have been legitimately concerned for them. They knew better though. If Ardyn had any care toward them, Y/N knew it was similar to one making sure their food was cooked thoroughly before consumption.

“I don’t feel as awful,” Y/N said truthfully. “The scourge patches are pretty bad on my chest though.”

“Here,” Ardyn stepped toward them. His hand reached out, grabbing their collar. “Let me have a look.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea--”

“I must insist.”

Before Y/N could counter Ardyn’s movement, in a swift motion his hand pulled downward on the material. Y/N could feel the fabric scratch against their skin. A tired hiss left Y/N’s mouth and they made a face.

“Do you really have to do this?” Y/N murmured under their breath. They rested their eyes on a random landscape photo hanging in the bathroom while Ardyn inspected them.

“Yes.” Ardyn was curt. With his right hand, he tilted Y/N’s neck back to inspect further. His gaze was poised like a bird, intently watching its mark high above the world. “I can’t well leave you unattended in such a sorry state, not when I can make the most of it.”

Y/N felt the fine hairs on their arms stand at his words and remained silent.

Before they became infected, if anyone had manhandled them, Y/N wouldn’t have stood for it. Not now. Not with Ardyn. Not with how dangerous he was. It was better to go with the flow of his mannerisms, no matter how peculiar, for the sake of keeping the peace. They both had something the other wanted, and Y/N knew it would be unwise to push Ardyn in such a way that he’d fulfill his end of the bargain much sooner than agreed upon.

Y/N felt Ardyn’s calloused hand stroke against their flesh. He tenderly pressed at some of the spider-webbing veins that protruded from Y/N’s skin. Amber eyes analyzed the grotesque patches like a fine arts connoisseur, admiring a beautiful yet controversial piece of work that belonged to him and him alone. Something that carried his signature.

“This scourge vein looks absolutely marvelous,” Ardyn muttered tilting his head with fascination. He was talking to himself, ignoring the double take Y/N made in response to his indelicate statement. His right index finger and thumb gently brushed at the scourge spot in question. A smile hung on his lips as he saw the stringy structures underneath Y/N’s first layer of skin move around like a fungus growth responding to a foreign object: both rejecting and wanting to embrace a similar species.

“Right at the base of your pulse. I can feel it hum beneath my touch.”

“Ardyn don’t,” Y/N blurted without thinking. They watched Ardyn tilt his head up, his gaze burrowing into theirs. To say he looked unamused was an understatement. Taking a breath, Y/N closed their eyes briefly before they continued.

“I’m not denying what you can and cannot take from me.” Y/N paused, making sure their words registered with Ardyn in full. “I don’t have the strength right now. Not after everything we both went through. Please. Give me some time, Ardyn.”

Though Ardyn’s stare was venomous and filled with contempt at being denied something he greatly desired, Y/N could sense a conflict that brewed beneath the golden rings of his hues. The microscopic movements betrayed other layers of feelings Ardyn enjoyed hiding from the world. It wasn’t long before Y/N could tell he was debating with himself, seemingly on the losing side of a mental argument.

“Very well,” Ardyn withdrew from Y/N, taking a step back. He breathed out through his nose. Hand rubbing the back of his neck to soothe his frustration.

“The first stop we make on our little trip, I will feed. Where we are going, there’s danger. I can’t very well protect either of us if I’m running on fumes.”

“We’re still going to Galdin Quay, right?”

The expression Ardyn made at the sudden question told Y/N everything, and he didn’t have to say a word. The answer was a blunt no . Nevertheless, Ardyn wasn’t one to leave somebody on a cliffhanger. Unless of course, he had a damned good reason. Be it to his benefit for something important, or he was feeling particularly conniving.

“I’m afraid there has been a change of plans,” Ardyn began. He held up his right hand, catching Y/N just before they were about to protest. “Don’t bother tempting me to redirect the circumstance. I did what I could within my influence.”

“This wasn’t part of our deal,” Y/N protested. They took a step toward him. “How am I supposed to get my affairs in order if I can’t go back to where I once lived?”

“Now, now, there’s no need to get theatrical,” Ardyn waved off Y/N’s concerns with his left hand. His smile seemed to grow while his gaze hardened. Purposefully sending mixed messages to Y/N regarding his emotional state.

“I am a man of my word: you will get your chance to sort through whatever is left of your old life.”

Y/N let out a sigh of relief, closing their eyes momentarily. “So what’s the new plan?”

“I thought you wouldn’t ask,” Ardyn chuckled. “There’s a port on our detour. I can drop you off there. I estimate from the port to Galdin Quay will take a half-day walk. You may arrive sooner if you can achieve another mode of transportation, and not tip anybody off that you’re infected.”

“You’re not going to drop me off at the Quay yourself?”

“I’m afraid not,” Ardyn sighed. "It's essential I stay out of sight and therefore out of mind for the rest of my stay in Lucis."

“You’re taking the risk of letting your goods fall into the wrong hands, I hope you’re aware.”

“I’m well aware,” Ardyn’s left eye twitched at Y/N’s remark. “I have good faith you wouldn’t let such an event transpire."

“How do you know I won’t just take off for good and leave you hanging?”

“Nothing outruns me. Besides,” Ardyn stepped forward, grabbing hold of Y/N’s chin. The sudden touch caused them to gasp, and on instinct, Ardyn’s grip tightened to further emphasize his point. “I trust you wouldn’t be so foolish to test my patience. After all, you of all people know what I am capable of.”

Y/N couldn’t argue with him there. Not when their mind flashed with a memory of the night the MedZin facility had been destroyed. Head to toe, Ardyn was covered in blood and bile. He lingered over a corpse, flayed beyond recognition. The ink-like black in his eyes, contrasting with his honey irises looked like dying embers: clutching onto whatever life was left by consuming all around it to keep the flame lit.

Y/N knew they would die by Ardyn’s hand, but not like that. Anything, but that.  

“You made your point,” Y/N breathed out through their nose, keeping their eyes locked on his. “Let me go.”

“Of course,” Ardyn smiled warmly and retreated his hand away, acting as if he wasn’t sinister just moments ago. “Best be fixing yourself up now. We’re leaving shortly.”

Y/N felt their heart drop into their stomach when Ardyn left the bathroom and closed the door. The panic they held within their body finally unleashed itself. Deep inhales and exhales softly echoed throughout the small room. There was so much going on, and so little time to process it all.

While they attempted to compose themself, Y/N stared directly at the tub and shower ahead. They could feel the pull of frustration in the creases of their forehead while trying to recall what happened at the MedZin outpost. Patches of memories scattered about Y/N’s mind. It was as if they had thousands of puzzle pieces, and were desperately trying to fit them all together to see the bigger picture. Sighing, Y/N realized now wasn’t the time to dip their toes into that mess. They needed to get ready.

Y/N stripped down and quickly got into the shower after turning on the faucet. While they bathed, Y/N contemplated their next moves. As soon as they were done saying their goodbye’s in Galdin Quay, Ardyn would kill them. Though it was scary, a peaceful thought began to lull Y/N into acceptance. They would rest knowing that no one else would get hurt because of them.

Ardyn had his back pressed to the bathroom door. His head tilted hearing Y/N turn on the water to the shower. A sigh escaped his nostrils and he crossed both his arms and legs. A heaviness fell upon Ardyn’s features. His fingertips dug into his shirt, feeling anxiety begin to travel through his nerves. It was so sudden that Ardyn was taken aback. He never got nervous.

As quickly as it came, the sensation was gone, but the emotional residue could be felt. That feeling didn’t belong to him. It belonged to another. He swallowed, wondering just how far he shot himself in the foot by helping Y/N in the first place.

[theeflowerofcarnage]

i love your new icon 💖!!!

Thank youu for noticing 🙈 I’m pretty sure it’s an ai anime render of a Robert McGinnis work he did a lot of horror pulp fiction covers

[hyacinth--girl]

tagged by the iconic @binickmiller 🥰❗️

name: katherine

age: 25

favorite season: winter

movies or tv shows? definitely tv shows

do you carry a bag/purse? what kind? i swap between a black shoulder bag and a maroon one that has the pulp fiction dancing scene embroidered on it

what color is your water bottle? pink! used to have an elephant on it but it’s so faded now. i'm about 2% away from committing to buying the frank green x matildas bottle

what color is your phone case? the back is clear but is covered with blue and green dinosaurs!!!!! i cherish it

do you sleep in silence or do you need white noise/sounds/music? godddd i wish i didn't but i need noise! so atm (winter) i have my fan on but it’s facing my drawers so i get the sound but not the cold lol

top sheets. yes or no? Top Sheets DNI!!

you're in the candy aisle at the corner store, what are you grabbing? i am the worst sweet tooth honestly this is bad. still mad that they discontinued starburst bc i would definitely be grabbing a pack of those, chocolate wise anything with strawberry filling/flavouring. cadbury have gone off with those lately it’s awesome

preferred mode of travel (plane/train/car/bus/on foot/etc.): as a passenger gotta say my beloved train as it’s the only thing i can be in for more than 30 mins without getting motion sickness. but i also love to drive AND i don’t get sick if i’m the one driving so

what's your phone background right now? just changed it to a 1989tv image

are you more of a minimalist or a maximalist? probably more min bc i can't handle Lots of Stuff, but i do love the little knick knacks that i do have

it's time to paint your bedroom! what color are you choosing? i had yellow walls in my childhood bedroom so i'm nostalgic for that, but i think i would love pale mint green

and finally, tell me something that brings you joy: atm watching the matildas!! i'm enjoying this world cup so much and it's the first time i've ever gotten into soccer so everything's new and exciting and i'm thoroughly obsessed

Tagging @perennial-dream @novemberrules26 @by-the-lakes uhhh and everyone else sorry my brain is in prac mode and I can’t remember anything that isn’t classroom related 🫠

[buzzdixonwriter]

Doc Savage

For two generations of young readers — the original pulp fans of the 1930s and 40s followed by the reprint fans of the 1960s and 70s — Doc Savage remains not only an iconic figure but a template for all adventure heroes who came after.

Doc and his team — the ape-like chemist Monk Mayfair, his rival attorney Ham Brooks, construction engineer Renny Renwick, electrical engineer Long Tom Roberts, archeologist / geologist Johnny Littlejohn — inspired such diverse teams as Captain Future and his crew, the Challengers of the Unknown, the Fantastic Four, the crew of the Enterprise, Buckeroo Banzai’s Hong Kong Cavaliers (many of whom, we must be fair to observe, executed the formula fair more successfully than Doc and his crew), and Team Venture.

Doc also proved a direct inspiration (read “rip off”) of several key concepts later popularized by Superman, including “the man of bronze” vs “the man of steel” and first use of an arctic Fortress of Solitude for those times when he just needed a break from adventuring.

There have been radio serials, comic books, movies (one by producer George Pal, another by teen fans in the 1970s), and a heart-breaking number of announced but never made media projects, including a serial (eventually rewritten as Fighting Devil Dogs) and abortive TV projects (including a proposed animated series by Ruby-Spears that went so far afield of the original concept that it’s a blessing it got shelved after early development).

So what makes the character so fascinating?

He represents an ideal embodiment of the ultimate of humanity abilities.  Unlike Superman (born or another planet) or other superheroes (either mutants or enhanced by some form of magic or super-science), Doc’s abilities are the result of his father’s relentless training regimen for him since birth.  He’s a brilliant polymath in all sciences (a legit doctor with and MD plus a plethora of PhDs), a fluent linguist in virtually all languages including ancient Mayan and American Sign Language, a skilled mimic and disguise artist, an expert martial artist and judo master (this at a time when martial arts were virtually unknown in America), plus a pilot / sailing master as well as a world renown philanthropist.

The only thing he isn’t is genuinely human, and from the very beginning there’s an unspoken yet nonetheless present undercurrent in all his adventures that his frantic activity is pretty much a defense against admitting he really has no inner personal life.

Over the next several months (probably years) I’m going to recap the Doc Savage novels as re-published by Bantam Books in the 1960s. Their covers by James Bama probably did more to cement Doc’s iconic appeal than the stories themselves, creating the look that every succeeding interpretation has followed. While Bantam eventually reprinted all the original pulp stories, they didn’t do so in order of publication; I will add that to help you understand the development of the character and series.

© Buzz Dixon

[monster-noises]

so I finished my last book/series and had my day off and now I'm reading a non-fiction book about Fantasy Art and oh my goooooood this book is written like the final thesis of a college freshman who has Way too much unfounded confidence in their abilities to write a grounded, engaging, and informational essay about the history of pulp fantasy art. I"m gunna read the whole thing, because it appears to be a series of essays and ancedotes by various authors and the artists themselves, but hooo my Goodness Gracious it's so... it's sO.... it's SOOOOOO.... every like Four lines you can hear the author go 'ohohoho, isn't This a clever little sentence' but it's not, it's not a clever little sentence and then it's like a chunk of text that's all names and dates and then it's back to weird non-informational prose-ing like they just "covered" the part of modern sci-fi/fantasy history centered around the Comics Code and they didn't... explain anything about what it was. They just said it was There.. and then listed a bunch of names and dates that things either shut down or got published. There's no Narrative, there's no Pull, there's no details, it's not a compelling History of Fantasy Art; it's 90% fluffy pontificating and like 2% actual information and the other 8% is the author making weird horny references to the way women are usually depicted in this genre of art.... (I'm not generally one to rag on someone being Horny, even in a professionally published non-fiction book, and Hell the way women are and have been depicted in Fantasy is Something to Talk about, but if I have to read the sentence 'Supple Flesh' in a cheeky reference to a woman's ass One More Time I'm going to start Biting)

They said 'Heironymous bosch -often considered the first Fantasy Artist" and then made it clear they Disagreed like two pages later because Mr. Bosch didn't draw any fucking Dragons like hhhhwhaT? Again interesting debate to be had: where does the turn from mythological/religious iconography to Fantasy happen? how do you apply modern labels to things from the past? should you? what level of content or Style will/does/did define something as Fantasy, as opposed to other possible labels? but this author pushes all that aside and is just like 'it's about the DRAGONS' and it continues to be a running theme like every second paragraph they have something to say about Dragons as the leading Icon of Fantasy Art (I would argue if you were going to give that label to anything it would be Wizards but perhaps I am Biased.)

It's not the kind of Bad writing that makes one Genuinely angry, but is more just...comically Flabbergahsting. Makes you sit there and go; What are you Talking About???? Not to mention the illustrations on each page don't... fucking match the text at all, the author is talking about the works of fantasy artists around world war 2 and the accompanying image is a japanese wood block print from 1 8 3 5 this essay has said 0 words about japanese wood block prints. I am astounded, and frankly, astonished.

[popculturebuffet]

Into The Spider-Verse: Peter Parker, The Amazing Spider-Man (Amazing Fantasy #15)

Hello all you happy webheads! It's time to swing into the Spider-Verse. As for what this is Kev, my patroen, sorta producer and friend, had a brilliant idea going into Across the Spider-Verse: Take a look at the first apperances of the various spider-men and women (Sorry NB's) who appeared in the instant classic Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse, then review the film in the nick of time for it's sequel. Since Spider-Man is one of my faviorite characters and i'd read most of these comics already and loved them all, it was an easy sell. So for the next few months we'll be going over every spider-man and woman from the first ones. We'll also likely be doing something similar for the sequel to cover that at some point, so keep your big ole expressive mask eyes peeld.

To start us off there was real no other choice, we're taking a look at the original spider-man: the one who taught us anyone could wear the mask, who made teenage superheroes a thing, who taught us what only a science major could do, and with great power must come great responsiblity: It's Peter Parker and the first apperance of any spider-man, Amazing Fantasy #15. Specifically this one is more for Peter B Parker, who like the modern day peter is a down on his luck man in his early 30's (despite what marvel tries to say one) but before he was a depressed man he was depressed boy so come with me under the cut as we explore the humble origins of one of the greatest heroes of all, and the legacy he'd unknowingly cause by putting on the mask.

Spider-Man was created by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko, with an assit by Jack the King Kirby. It was the 60's and Stan Lee had just had his first major success as a comics writer, creating one of my faviorite teams with the Fantastic Four and kicking off the marvel universe as we know it, captivating readers with it's grounded characters, fantastical plots, and general freshness from what was on shelves at the time.

So for an encore Stan Lee decided to scratch another narrative itch he'd had while at the same time tapping into the FF's youthful fanbase: most teen superheroes at that point were sidekicks, mostly falling in the vein of robin, and most were written like this

They were also usually the popular kids or at least resonably popular, and their lives outside the masks were almost never focused on and easily being able to lean on their adult mentors if there was trouble. So Stan Lee decided to flip all of that: His teen hero would be entirely in the same league as any adult superhero, fight villians all by himself. He'd be a nerd, an outcast, someone with no friends to confide in and whose only family is someone he could never tell, and someone who constantly struggled with money. In short he'd be someone most teens reading comics could relate to.

He decided to model the hero a bit after pulp hero the spider, copying the hero's sixth sense and motif. What he needed now was a design and he naturally went to FF partner Jack Kirby. But while Jack Kirby is The King he just didn't have the right fit for Spider-Man, so Lee went to Steve Ditko and Ditko's lanky design for the hero combind with the now iconic mask (chosen as to mask the fact Peter's an awkward teen under there and to add a sense of danger and mystery) was the perfect fit.

Ditko's art is hard to describe but spectacular: it comes off like a more detailed version of dick tracy having the same exagerated features, but feeling entirely realistic at the same time. How he pulled it off I don't know but his style is moody, scratchy and perfect for the more miseable early world of peter parker.

What wasn't was editorial whose reaction… well i'll let stan lee himself tell it with this excert from his intro to the first Amazing-Spider Man Marvel Masterworks:

Thankfully for us Stan didn't remotely listen and instead found the perfect way to give the book a test run. At the time Lee and Ditko were working on Amazing Adult Fantasy, a science fiction antholgy book, that was coming to an end. So Lee decided and his editor reluctantly agreed to let Spider-Man headline the last issue: if he was a success, then Stan would be vindcated and Spidey could get an ongoing replacing Amazing. If he wasn't.. well it was the last book of a failing mag anyway, no harm done.

While it took a few months to find out, 60's and all, the results spoke for themselves: Amazing Fantasy #`15 was one of Marvel's best sellers, Amazing Spider-Man #1 with Lee and Ditko followed soon after and given we're on legacy issue 700+ at this point, with countless spinoffs, spinoff characters, other spider-men we'll get to shortly, two live action tv series, 10 animated tv series with another one upcoming, and nine movies with more of them a comin too, the results speak for themselves. So how's the debut hold up? Well… let's see shall we?

A Diffrent Kind of Hero:

We open up with this iconic opening panel, peter parker rejected by his peers, dejected and with a giant shadow of the man he'll become behind him.

Granted i'm not sure anyone even professionals has ever called then "long underwear characters" and even my goofy self has only so far he can go. I also find it funny they "need one more for the dance" despite having an even number. As you can see there's no perks to being a walflower for peter parker, and It was part of his charm: as I said nerdy kids like peter could relate to him, as could people of color or queer readers who coudl see themselves in someone who just didn't fit in anywhere, felt constantly alone and in the case of queer readers had a secret he had to keep iron tight lest the reveal of it destroy his life. It's why the anyone can wear the mask message Into The Spider-Verse goes for works so well: anyone really could wear the mask, so even if the guy behind it on page was a white nerd, he could be any kind of nerd or person. The point of having a geeky neurotic teen in the role was to have someone you woudln't expect behind the mask, and that gives hope to anyone to wear it. Lee himself had that in mind, and it was brilliant.

Anyways we get the standard stuff that would become a staple for peter: He has two loving elderly parents: Aunt May and Uncle Ben who adopted him after his parents died but loved him just the same, and he coudln't get a girl to notice him even if his hair was on fire at this point. He'd have friends more in other adaptations at least, but for Ditko's run he's a man alone, with no one to rely ona nd the world… laughing at him a lot. When he gets bit by a spider at a science demonstration, the scientests reaction.. is to not notice and instead claim it was a bit too much for him. A guy nearly running him over . .blames peter for it..

Apparently it was ENTIRELY legal to kill nerds in 1965. Which tracks it's just shocking to find out in a comic book is all.

Anyways peter finds out his powers, which was brillantly expanded on in the rami films and in hindsight shows up in pretty much all spider-man media that depicts his origin: peter slowly realizing in some way he has his powers.

I also wanted to spotlight the gag with the kid as I see it WAY too often in media and while it at least fits a little here, I always feel bad for the person who isn't belivied and it always annoys me. It's not helped almost EVERY stan helmed silver age marvel comic used this gag. I'm not exagerating. While true the artists had more influcence on the story back then thanks to the marvel method, Stan still wrote the dialouge, so this is entirely his fault. I know he did because Ditko once drew spidey angry at some protestors because of his objectivist beliefs, and Stan spun it to peter supporting them because he did and because maybe directly telling their audience "your wrong and your wrong to want to change anything", was a terrible buisness tactic

It also annoys me because while I get some assholes digging in and not beliving shit that has tangible proof, the last few years have been a nightmare of nothing but that from the right, so it's not entirely implausable after a while it gets annoying when we're into the 80's and writers are still doing this when there have been multiple alien invasions in new york alone. Outside of NYC I get it, but inside it at a certain point the gag just stops working and becomes obnoxious.

Anyways, Pete decides to test his might now he's much more unique than the other guys, and participates in a wrestling contest to stay in the ring three minutes with crusher hogan. This is another point where the rami films come up and reading this it's very clear Sam studied this issue relgiously and adapted it really well, his only changes being expansions that honestly only improved peter's origin. Or in the case of the wrestling scene changing it form a 60's style strongman contest some bald guy, to

I mean let's face it anything is better with randy savage. Peter easily sweeps the guy and a guy in the audience asks him the important questions

And promises to get him on EDDDD SULLLIVANNNN

I like the subtle touch as Peter, before fairly defeated and at most sayin ghe'll show them all once day, getting a bit more confidence yet ego: when asked for more showmanship he makes the now iconic costume, as well as his web shooters, a nice touch in my eyes: it shows off peter's science prowess and them running out has been a vital plot device across all spidey media that serves as a ncie little bit of dramatic tension whe nneeded. We also get the lost spider-man catchphrase I never knew I needed.

Honestly i'd of loved if Peter just started shouting crackers and milk any time he's upset…

… I regret none of this. Anyways spidey goes on EDDD SULLLIVAN and I don't think we've seen this part of his origin much. I mean obviously the Ed SullivanNN

…. part of things is a bit outdated but most adaptations just skip the showbiz part of his career entirely and skip right to the fateful moment that woudl change everything.

I get it from a time compression standpoint: for the first movie it helped get right to the fateful moment w'ell talk about in a second, and for most adaptations it saves on time in general since they often expand it with other places, like Peter having a falling out with ben just before… well you know in both the amazing and rami movies. I still like it as it explains why Peter's ego grows beyond a power high: after having most people laugh at him or ignore his achivements his whole life he's FINALLY loved, respected and has everything he could want: his family is fincially secure, he's popular, it's easy to see why a kid who was picked on just before this happened woud get high on it's own ego and thus makes what happens next work as well as it does. We've all had moments where we get a swelled head and get high on ourselves, where we let our own ego steer the ship, even my insecure ass… and moments where we could've done the right thing.. and simply didn't

It's just six panels (I coudln't fit the last one in), but it's simple enough to shwo what peter's become: he's become so jaded by his treatment in the past he's letting it impact who he could become, deciding to double down and put out for only himself. And yes stopping the criminal would be dangerous and the cop would be a dick for asking any civilian too.. but it's something peter could've done with or without the mask, the guy was unarmed at the time, and doing so was the right thing. It's a horrible mistake but it's mundanety is really what hammers it in: anyone could be in this situation and thus anyone can feel the pain of it because it so easily coudl've been you. Just as anyone wearing a mask gives you the freedom and power of spider-man.. it also means you can feel the weight of what happens when he doesn't use this power how he should. That you can feel his guilt because it easily coudl've been you in the same situation if you just decided fo rone second "fuck it this has nothing to do with me i'm out". To do nothing instead of the right thing. Stan and Steve coudl've easily made this just a power fantasy, but they knew it had ot be more than that: that with relatablity can come fun.. but it can also punch readers in the gut.. and I feel you all know exactly how their about to do so.

But before that we get a few panels that I feel are still important: Ben suprising peter with a microscope, with him being genuinely greatful, showing even with the new ego.. he's still sympathetic. He still loves the peopl ewho raised hima nd wants to take care of them. So after a few week sas a media sensation.. the inevitble happens.

The art on peter really gets me. Ditko perfectly captures the poor boy's devistation, his panic.. and finally his rage as he prepares to get his revenge, the shot of peter furiously putting on the costume being a true classic. It's part of why this story holds up: some thigns may of aged and the dialouge can be hit and miss.. but the emotion and sheer craft of the tale carry it though. IT's why all but the mcu have adapted this in some way: it's just a perfect origin story.. and it simply ahs one last part of it to go to seal the deal:

Spider-man easily stops the guy, finding him and getting his revenge but before he can do more…. he see shis face…

While i'm glad Ditko thankfully ararely did pupil's on spide again as it simply dosen't work, this .. is an exception. The sheer horror in peter's eyes is more human without the mask, that he could've stopped all this and didn't. That one stupid act of selfishness, of not using his powers how he should… got an innocent man, the man who raised, him loved him and taught him to be the man he was died. I also like how Ditko's shot of a maskless peter shows how.. young he is. While most adaptations have peter as a teen, this originanl panel really makes yo ufeel it: a scared kid with his future unknown, as he goes into the distance remembering what would later become his uncles words: With great power.. there must also come great responsiblity. It's what makes a superhero who they are, and what Stan and Steve brillantly demonstrated without pushing it in too hard: it's easy to get power or have it fall in your lap.. but what makes the hero is how you use it. IT's choosing to fight for the right thing even if it isn't easy. IT's what great responsiblity really means to me: using the power your given to help those who need it… and the reason Uncle Ben is such a great imeptus is peter's been ther enow: he's seen what happens when a good man does nothing and the consequences of that. It's why I admire him so much: in the face of such a tragedy peter could've gone further down into his grief.. but instead decided to be the man his uncle would want him to be. To truly be something. and that is why his name is in the roster of those who make the world of fantasy the most exciting of all: because he rose up and became something more and choose to take the worst moment of his life and while never forgive it, turn it into something his uncle would be proud of. It's why the character endures.. because Peter Parker will always endure, he'll almost always get back up and he'll always use his great power.. responsibly

But what does someone else do with said power and responsiblitY? We find out later this month as a kid from brooklyn also gets bitten and has to be steered into a greater destiny, wether he likes it or not. We're looking at Ultimate Comics: Spider-Man #1-5. Until then thanks for reading true belivier.