#May2011
DEFEAT. 031 – Into Your Black Heart
[DEFEAT. is Rendar Frankenstein’s truest attempt at fiction. Presented in weekly episodes, the novella tells the tale of Daryl Millar – a hero who dies at the intersection of pop culture, science-fiction, war epic, and fantasy]
The man in the black suit had sex on his mind and murder on his lips. He strolled about the bar casually, basking in the waves of smoke and perfume and unadulterated passion. Ah, this feels so damn good he mused, soaking up the human emotions of which he was usually devoid.
Of which he was usually incapable.
But a year had come and gone, and the man in the black suit was again granted his one day. Twenty-four hours in which he would not only be able to feel again, but to feel in a way that no human could fathom. Sensation amplification, if you will. Food and wine tingling on the tongue in such a manner as to border on erotic ecstasy. Every neon bulb in the bar shining brighter than it had been ever been designed to. The chatter and laughter and soft whisperings behind ears, every single syllable being heard with a stereo clarity that wouldn’t be mastered for decades. Aromas, even sweat and tears, hitting his nose with a candy shop sweetness.
And touching another human being – well, that’s what the man in the black suit spent the year looking forward to the most.
Even incidental contact, brushing by others as he made his way through the lounge, was enough to make him close his eyes and breathe heavily. This pushed the man in the black suit toward his emotional precipice, threatening to derail his plans if he wasn’t careful. “Oh my,” he exhaled, “I had better get to it.” He was acting with resolve. Dark, deadly resolve.
Moving towards the back of the bar, the man in the black suit scouted the scene. He was one of only a few men at the club that wasn’t a soldier. And soldiers always wooed the girls away. A symptom of the times he figured. But for every member of the armed forces present, there were at least three civilian women. So there were plenty of choices, and besides, trying to filch away a woman from one of these soldiers would’ve been bad news.
Not that the man in the black suit couldn’t kill the lot of `em. But he didn’t want the mess. Not on his one special day of the year, anyway.
A stroke of luck! He spied a dainty, raven-haired beauty sitting by herself at a table, milking a cigarette for all its worth. Her impeccable smile, her slender frame, her gossamer throat, it was all so sexually invigorating. Even her pale complexion — she wasn’t a Geisha, but her milky face wasn’t too far off — it screamed for attention in the midst of a society that generally asked all members to keep their eyes glued to the floor.
And feeling the bloodlust rising within, the man in the black suit couldn’t help but imagine how good it would feel to absolutely destroy the girl. To pillage her. Mind. Body. Soul. Consentual sex wouldn’t suffice, not on this day of hyperbolic sensation. No, he would forcefully enter her, deposit his rotten, lifeless seed, and then murder her. Approaching his prey, he conjured images of wrapping his hands around her throat and squeezing, squeezing, squeezing existence away.
“Hello. How are you this evening?”
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Meathook Galaxy Is Gorgeous, Not As Cool As Meat Spin.
New ‘Green Lantern’ Trailer Has Reynolds Getting Punched In The Face. Win!
New trailer for Green Lantern up in here! It oscillates between gorgeous visuals, horrible exposition, epic action sequences, and Blake Lively’s black hole of non-acting prowess. Also, the Green Lantern’s oath is fucking awful in the comic books, and only sounds more hokey out loud.
Hit the jump for the trailer.
May The 4th Be With You; Star Wars Rules.
I don’t know how long it’s been going on, but I noticed it last year. People are all over the “May The 4th” type Star Wars shit. I fucking love Star Wars. No manipulation of the originals, no shitty prequels, nothing can take away the glory that is stored in the heart of my little soul. Binary Sunset will forever give me goosebumps, and that motherfucking galaxy far, far away will never stop daring me to dream.
Happy May The 4th, fuckers.
Variant Covers: Corporate Synergy Porn.
Turn around and the next thing you know, the clock strikes Wednesday! Well goodness me. Time to plot out your various funny books for the week. Check the articles, plumb the pull-lists, collate the funds. This is Variant Covers, the one-stop shop for spittin’ about the funny books you’re snagging on this week. Oh yeah, and I also display the titles catchin’ my eye.
Game of Thrones: Lord Snow
Despite Cat’s disdain for a bastard in their family, it’s hard to deny the awesomeness of Jon Snow. He’s one of my favorite characters in the book and now on the show as well. The setting of the Wall helps a lot – it’s such an interesting and eerie place situated at the end of a haunted forest. This forest seems deadly still but if it deems guarding by the Night’s Watch – people who (sometimes unwillingly) sacrifice their entire lives to protect this Wall – then you know shit can go down at any minute. Benjen tells Tyrion a lot about these unnameable horrors beyond the Wall, like big fucking bears. Oh my! And of course there’s the White Walkers who made an appearance in the beginning of the pilot. They’ll come into play shortly and they’re some scary pricks.
Lots of exposition in “Lord Snow” – especially backstory concerning Jaime Lannister and how he earned his epic nickname “Kingslayer.” In the sleazy manner of stabbing the king in the back, natch. Actor Nikolaj Coster-Waldau plays the smug asshole perfectly. I wanted Ned to bitch slap him with a glove during the scene in the throne room. Him and his unscathed armor. Pssshhht. During the small council, Ned learns how utterly fucked the kingdom’s financial situation is. “Counting copper,” they call it. Despite the issue, Robert demands a tournament be held in celebration of Ned’s appointment as Hand of the King. Ned’s new role, however, doesn’t give him the power to prevent royal spending on crap like tourneys. His frustration with King’s Landing continues to grow.
Monday Morning Commute: Night Creature Posse
WELCOME TO THE MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! FUGG YEAH, BOI!
Whoa. Sorry, I just lost my mind for a bit. Can you blame me though, life’s damn wonderful! Worth getting psyched up for! Also, I’ve been pounding caffeine all afternoon, so I scream in the irrational belief that it’ll keep my heart pumping.
Anyways. Posted on Monday evenings by a dude with less than fifteen minutes on his daily commute, this is the weekly show-and-tell at OL. I show you the bits of trivial nonsense I’ll use to numb the sting of indentured servitude. Then, like a good little doobie, you hit up the comments and tell me what you’re up to.
A failure to comply will result in the destruction of your homeworld. The Planet Smasher has been summoned. Don’t test me.
