RTW – Rock the World Television! – and RTV NEWS presents RTV News Closeup: The Pentad of Guardians! Meet Empire City's newest heroes and learn their secret origins! (Transcript.)
“One day?” Marco asked. He paused. “Oh shit, you got a bite.”
“A bite?” the brown haired bagman asked.
Leather beamed. “Yes I did, Marco! Yes I did! That brings me to the next item on the agenda…
Below is a sneak peek of this content!The Patreon Exclusive Notes and Worldbuilding returns, bringing us to Greenhorn #4. Spoilers for that, “Diverged in a Wood,” “Forebears,” and some other stuff so be warned.
“Or sometimes it’s just… it’s just what they do, and I have no idea why. I mentioned Bandolier? He loves Paramount City. And he really wants to kill the Beacon, but he’s also… he’s a friend and I don’t want to bag on him, but he’s… protective of her. He hates her but doesn’t want to hear shit about her. I know it’s not sexual or romantic or stalker-twisted-things-its-romantic. I just don’t know what it actually is. It’s like… rival baseball teams, only it’s a hero and villain and the villain builds a lot of deathtraps.”
Shades of the old posting style, it's Interviewing Trey #21! And in less than forever this time, no less! Exclusive to Patreon subscribers for the first twenty-four hours!
I often model out my characters as references and because I like doing it. Here's two renders -- one of Landon Moore and the other of the Artifact, both from Motivation.
“I came out there for my sister’s funeral, and to help wrap up her final affairs. And you know what I found out?”
“What did you find out?” Bryce asked, quietly.
“I found out that Julie was... the smartest person ever. And she was nice and kind and never forgot how to sew. She liked to cross stitch and she looked good in peasant dresses and I watched a Chief Technology Officer break down and cry over her, and... and the thing of it is, no one cares. To everyone else? She was just... an appendage. Something strapped to the Artifact to give him depth or some kind of... Jesus. Backstory.”
“Look, I know it’s vigilante justice, but there’s a right way and a wrong way, you know? I can’t just go crack skulls because they might be selling drugs. I have to have more than that. If I don’t, then there’s too much of a chance of screwing up – of hurting someone because I don’t like their looks. There are words for that, and I don’t like those words at all. Nuh-uh. No thank you.”
“I don’t want to have to rescue you, Chapman. I’m not going out there to rescue you or perform for you. I’m going out to fight crime. And believe it or not? That’s not easy and that’s not safe. Not for me, not for innocent bystanders, not for idiot reporters, and not even for the criminals I’ll be taking down. And if you go waltzing around playing out your Truncheon fantasies, you might get hurt. You might get killed. Or? You might get me hurt or killed. And more likely than either of those? You might get some innocent bystander hurt or killed.”
She stepped back, her eyes still intense as lasers as they burned into mine. “Get this in your head, Chapman. We’re. Not. Getting. Anyone. Killed.”
"Leather's a cool boss. If we keep our noses clean for a few weeks? Then she'll forgive us and the next time we fuck up it'll be another speech. But, y'know, if we fuck up before that? She wasn't kidding last night. She's got no sense of perspective. She will burn your house to the ground and laugh while she's doing it." He laughed. "She doesn't always look crazy or sound crazy, but trust me, man. She's crazy."
“Jesus Christ, Art. The oven? Pallid Jan cooked her?”
Emily felt a lurch down in her stomach. “Hey!” she snapped. “That’s my sister you’re talking about. I’d appreciate it—”
“Yeah, well – she’d have appreciated more than three calls a year and your snide-ass judgment from high school straight through until the day before she got – what, par-broiled? Was the oven set to bake or what? But we don’t always get what we want, do we?”