Metro

Zombipanda

My Boom-Boom's mostly gay
Joined
Jan 31, 2006
Messages
9,401
Location
Zoo Atlanta
18-22 page story, in progress.

PAGE ONE
The first panel consists of the top eighty percent of the page.

1.

EXT. CITY - NIGHT. Downtown. A mirror-windowed skyscraper looms in the background. Seated high on the building is a logo, basically the McDonald's golden arches turned on their side to make an E. In the foreground is a bus stop. The back wall is splashed with an advertisement: a fit runner in the starting position centered on the ad, with "just do it" written prominently in the upper left hand corner. JACKY METRO stands with his back to the panel, spray painting over the ad. He's a white boy in his mid-twenties, scrawny, dark haired fade, blue eyes, green hoody with cargo pants, a messenger bag stuffed with spray cans. The hood is pulled up.

1.1.1 CAP: There are seven cities.

1.1.2 CAP: There have only ever been seven cities.

1.1.3 CAP: There will only ever be seven cities.

1.1.4 CAP: What we see are mere configurations.

2.

CU OF THE BUS STOP. JACKY sits waiting for the bus. The graffiti is revealed: a slovenly, hairy oaf ****ing the runner from behind.

1.2.1 CAP: Just do it.
1.2.2 CAP: Because consumers don't grow on trees.

PAGE TWO

1.

EXT. CITY BUS - NIGHT. A billboard is pasted onto the side of the bus. Monochrome. MAUSY THE MINSTREL MOUSE sits at an austere dinner table with a bib and a utensil in each hand. In front of him, a fat, stuffed pig. Underneath: " Minstrel Maus sez Munch". Mausy is a minimally-lined and cheery cartoon character, a fusion of classic Mickey Mouse with the more racist exaggerations of a black sambo. The speech bubble comes from the bus interior.

2.1.1 LYDIA: You always pick just the sexiest spots for our little rendezvous, Jacky.

2.

INT. CITY BUS. JACK sits beside LYDIA, a waifish pale thing in her late twenties, dark eyed, dark haired, a keen and sharkish professional in a tight black dress, perfectly out of place on public transport. There's a book in her lap.

2.2.1 JACK: See, I was thinking a nice dark club, a bottle of red wine...

2.2.2 LYDIA: Business tonight. Besides, we both know you're accounted for.

3.

2.3.1 JACK: ****, Lydia, no one ever told me. Who's the lucky girl?

2.3.2 LYDIA: Whole city's lucky for you. That's why we picked you.

2.3.3 JACK: Hnf. Now I'm lucky too.

4.

CU. LYDIA presses the book into Jack's lap. "American Encyclopedia of Organized Crime in the Twentieth Century". Her finger trails the hardback cover.

2.4.1 LYDIA: I've dog-eared the juicy parts.

5.

EXT. CITY BUS stopped to unload. Lydia walks briskly away from the bus. The billboard on the front of the bus has rotated. " Bugsy Siegel's Secret Vault Uncovered!" A shot of the Flamingo Hotel is superimposed with the face of ERIC CAMERON, a smug young **** with frosted hair and a vaseline smile. He clawed his way up the mindless entertainment commentary profession. "Live, With Eric Cameron!" In the corner, a logo for LEAN: Lansky Entertainment Action Network.

PAGE THREE

1.

EXT. MOVIEDROME. NIGHT. It's a small video rental joint specializing in indie and foreign films, nested in a fairly bohemian part of town.

3.1.1 RANDALL: And ole girl wants you to poach Bugsy's hidden treasure? From under our generation's Dick Clark?

2.

INT. MOVIEDROME. Nick stands behind the counter, breaking up weed on its surface. RANDALL lounges back against the counter, shaggy haired lanky new hippie youth, Nick's dealer and friend.

3.2.1 NICK: More or less.

3.2.2 CAP: More more than less.

3.2.3 RANDALL: Yeah, Belloq? You gonna do it?

3.

TIGHT SHOT. Nick sprinkles the green across a rolling paper.

3.3.1 NICK: Dunno. He's kind of a ********er, yeah?

4.

INT. WIDE. The rolled joint is tucked in Nick's mouth as they round for the front door.

3.4.1 RANDALL: No. Total ********er. Dude's Minstrel farm raised, complete Orange County plastic. ****er's probably got a mouse branded on his ***.

3.4.2 NICK: Figure I should?

5.

EXT. MOVIEDROME. NICK and RANDALL smoke beside the front door.

3.5.1 RANDALL: Nick, lemme tell you a story about Eric Cameron...

PAGE FOUR

1.

INT. CELEB NOW SET, one of those cheesy, shiny facades to a fluff entertainment news broadcast. A slightly younger and meticulously tanned ERIC CAMERON behind the heavy desk, grinning white.

4.1.1 CAP: Back in the day, Cameron's still scrub but he's coming up. Been pulled up out of the farm leagues. No more televised sing-a-longs in silly rodent caps. No more lip-synched homo-erotic group choreography on bright-light sweat-slick stages. No, he's a reporter now.

4.1.2 ERIC: ...as we bring you breaking news on the exact contents of singer Vivica Langley's epic purge at hip LA restaurant Nava. Carla Rod--

4.1.3 CAP: Even got a gopher working for him. Little goth girl - chubby body, cute face, pulls the normal tasks. Coffee here, , dry cleaning there...

2.

CU. ERIC's manner contorted into a dramatic o-face, fingers clenched on his script.

4.2.1 ERIC: Nnnnnnnn!

4.2.2 CAP: occasional blowjob as the situation demands.

3.

He's regained his composure.
4.3.1 ERIC: Carla Rodriguez has exclusive, live coverage from the restaurant's bathroom stall.

4.3.2 CAP: So one day she calls in. Cat's sick, and she needs to spend the afternoon, Idunno, spoon-feeding it warm soup and wrapping it in a heated blanket.

4.

ERIC, purchasing flowers from a street stall.

4.4.1 CAP: Eric, natural kind-hearted boss that he is, wants to show that he cares for the hired help. Roses.

5.

Now at the fish market

4.5.1 CAP: Fine albacore tuna.

6.

Apartment door. ERIC, with flowers in one hand, the bundle of fish tucked in his other arm.

SFX: KNOK-KNOK


7.

ERIC has stepped through the door. He's reaching into his belt even as he presents the gifts to his assistant. ****-eating grin.

4.7.1 CAP: Even delivers it in person.

8.

RED

4.8.1 CAP: Fires a clean round square into sniffling puss' face.

9.

Flowers and tuna hit the floor, messy package splattering the carpet as it bursts open.

4.9.1 CAP: "Better see you bright and early tomorrow."

4.9.2 CAP: "Enjoy the fish."

PAGE FIVE

1.

EXT. NIGHT. A low lying city block in silhouette. Small businesses in a seedier part of town. Laundromats, jack shacks and ethnic restaurants on the left end give way to higher tenement apartments on the right. NICK, bag slung over his shoulder, hauls himself onto the roof of the shortest building, far right. Over the course of the page, he makes his way across the slow climbing skyline.

5.1.1 CAP: People think graffiti is an expression of self, an act of defiance, marking your tag for everyone to see. pissing out a line of demarcation. And mostly they're right. Some of it's true for Nicky, even.

2.

Back pressed against a rooftop A/C unit as the laundromat's proprietor peers at the roof from below.

5.2.1 CAP: But for the cats that are really up, it's something more. The real epic pieces are squared away - abandoned tunnels, warehouses, factories - vast top to bottoms squirreled into the forgotten crannies of the city, Lascaux masterworks hidden so deep they won't be seen by anyone but the writer and the town.

5.2.2 CAP: Part of it's self-preservation. The time it takes to throw up real art makes public places tricky, and there's always some punk looking to tag it over.

3.

NICK, full run as he builds the momentum to bridge the distance to the next building's fire escape.

5.3.1 CAP: But when you really break it down, it's all about that intimacy. Just you and the town, and in those hours, in the whole sprawl, there is only you.... and her....

4.

He hoists himself up onto the side of the rooftop, bag dangling precariously from his shoulder. A can falls free, spirals to the alleyway below.

5.4.1 CAP: She is a schizophrenic lover, but he knows all her faces, knows every inch of her body.

5.

BIRD'S EYE. NICK, exhausted, sprawled on the top floor of the abandoned tenement. The roof has long crumbled away, and all that's left of the top floor is a single, piecemeal brick wall.

5.5.1 CAP: He is her tattooist.

PAGE SIX

1.

NICK, facing the wall, as he sketches the parameters of the piece.

6.1.1 CAP: Needle touches flesh and the Metropolis coos.


2.

The design starting to take shape: the facade of a train station's frontside, bright colors and exaggerated, loose corners.

6.2.1 CAP: He works on instinct. It is Terminus he needs, and as he tickles, coaxes her...

3.

His ear pressed to the finished piece. Knuckles rap on the front door.

6.3.1 SFX: KNOK-KNOK

6.3.2 NICK: C'mon baby....

4.

A brief glimpse of TERMINUS, city in transit, metropolis of corridors and trains, all black smog and gray steel.

6.4.1 CAP: she restlessly wakes from sleep. And Terminus aligns, so briefly, with this city.

5.

Silhouette. The wall is flush with the right side of the panel. NICK steps through the wall...

6.

and out into the next panel. Ground level. It is an alleyway, and he is now dressed immaculately - a clean white suit cut in the style of the mid-forties, a fedora cradled in his hand.

PAGE SEVEN

EXT. NIGHT - SPLASH. NICK stands examining his new clothes as he settles the hat on his head. He is dwarfed by the Flamingo Hotel, which is just cranking into its grand opening. Cars line the front door, and well-dressed folks mingle in.

7.1.1 CAP: December 26, 1946. The Flamingo Hotel.

7.1.2 NICK: 'ppreciate it...

PAGE 8

1.

NICK stands at a crowded roulette table.

8.1.1 CAP: Meet Las Vegas in her adolescence, a wild-eyed bright-smiling girl lonely in the desert, just looking to get ****ed.

8.1.2 NICK: Thousand on double zero.

2.

Same shot. The CROUPIER, brow raised.

8.2.1 CROUPIER: 00. Gentleman wins again.

8.2.2 CAP: And Nicky Metro's all too happy to oblige her. He walked in with a cold fifty dollar bill.

3.

Two slinky femmes hang onto NICK's arm now.

8.3.1 CAP: The girls on his arm could be his great grandmother, but they sure don't look it.

8.3.2 NICK: Let it ride.

8.3.3 CAP: But for now, it's business.

4.

A mean looking legbreaker in the background murmurs to another guard.

8.4.1 CROUPIER: Gentleman doubles up.

8.4.2 CAP: And Lansky's men are in the business of keeping her cherry intact.

5.

One of the legbreakers has sidled in behind NICK. The other stands to his side.

8.5.1 THUG: Maybe you should come with us, sir...

8.5.2 NICK: Funny, I was thinking Diana and Elise here should come with me.

INSET: The thug's gun presses against the small of NICK's back.

8.5.3 THUG: They'll be here when you get back. Lead on, high roller.

PAGE 9

1.

The walk-in freezer of the Flamingo. The camera is centered on NICK, tied to a chair, breath making fog. He's sporting some mean bruises.

9.1.1 CAP: The Flamingo Hotel. Where they keep the ice cream.

9.1.2 THUG (off panel): Got the joker right in here, Mr. Siegel.

2.

Silhouette. A very irate BUGSY SIEGEL stands over a prone NICK. He's steadily driven the Flamingo into debt during the period of construction and the Syndicate who's been funding it is none too happy. He's irate, scared, and looking for something to take it out on.

9.2.1 BUGSY: Never seen you before, brother. What sort of business you in?

9.2.2 NICK: I'm a fortune teller.

3.

SFX: KRAKKKK!!!

4.

BUGSY rubs his knuckle, turned away from NICK now. NICK, in turn, sports a nasty cut along his eye where the gangster's punch hit.

9.4.1 BUGSY: That so, bright boy? And here I thought you were in the business of stealing my money.

9.4.2 NICK: Maybe I could read your fortune. Prove it to you.

5.

SLIVER SHOT. CU BUGSY's brow raised.

6.

A thick, red loogie hits the freezer's floor.

9.6.1 NICK: Your Empire will make billions and span centuries.

7.

BUGSY's cracked a smile. An arm slung around his goon, he turns towards the door.

9.7.1 BUGSY: Just maybe I like this kid after all. Maybe we give him some time to cool off while we ring Lansky.

8.

NICK, alone in the freezer.

9.8.1 CAP: Believe it or not, it's exactly where Nicky wants to be.

9.8.2 CAP: 90% of this business is getting the **** beat out of you.

PAGE 10

All the panels are shot in stark black and white. The lights have been killed in the hotel, and NICK operates on a sort of internal navigation.

1.

BLACK

10.1.1 CAP: Lessons from school-age magic camp clear the knots.

10.1.2 CAP: And some pre-planned vandalism clears the lights.

2.

CU of the Flamingo's electrical box. A frowny face with its eyes X'ed has been scribbled on the face of the box, and as a superscript to it, a crudely drawn clock marked 12:30. The marker has been left atop the box.

10.2.1 CAP: Lady Vegas was sweet enough to read his short hand.

3.

NICK, wedging a broom handle into the freezer door.

10.3.1 CAP: History lesson. Bugsy pumped exorbitant dough into the Flamingo. Private sewers for each bathroom. Boiler room rebuilt from the bottom up. A kitchen renovated... and renovated.... and renovated again.

4.

He pushes a heavy shelf out of the way.

10.4.1 CAP: Rumor is, the kitchen work was cover for something else. A secret vault buried in the sands of Vegas. Pirate treasure. Yar!

10.4.2 CAP: In short, he binged like... well... an addict in Vegas...

5.

A dark stairwell burrows deep beneath the kitchen. A heavy door with those handles that look like a ship's wheel glimmers at the bottom of the stairs.

10.5.1 CAP: Except it wasn't his money. Millions upon millions in loans from the Syndicate. And when opening day didn't pay out.... And opening week didn't pay out.... And opening month didn't pay out... Well, everybody dies sometime...

10.5.2 CAP: Except they hadn't heard the rumor. And when the new owners came around to renovate the kitchen once again, Bugsy's treasure got buried as deep as the man himself.

6.

His hands are closed on the handle to the vault, ready to turn.

10.6.1 NICK: Enough foreplay, baby. Let's get you undressed.

PAGE 11

SPLASH - NICK stands in the massive underground vault, which is entirely empty.

11.1.1 NICK: Well, someone's getting ****ed tonight.

11.1.2 CAP: Hell of a town...

PAGE 12

1.

A cross-section of a room in the El Rancho, a western themed hotel. MORNING. The view allows us to see into the hotel room, where a girl is conked out in bed and champagne bottles are scattered along the carpet, as well as onto the patio, where NICK stands, in his bathrobe, toking off of a sherlock while he talks on his cell phone.

12.1.1 CAP: The El Rancho Vegas, first hotel on the Vegas Strip. New Year's Day, 1947.

12.1.2 NICK: I think I've seen The Sting and Usual Suspects enough to know when I'm being played.

2.

LYDIA, sprawled across her chair in a posh office. She's occupying her time watching TV while she talks on the phone.

12.2.1 LYDIA: Of course his tomb's empty, Nicky. Man got into a lot of debt to a lot of bad people. We aren't talking Egyptian pharaohs here. It's not like he thought he could take a big pile of gold to Hell with him.

3.

12.3.1 LYDIA: You aren't being paid to rob Siegel's treasure. You're being paid to leave something in there. You're a vandal, not a thief. We wouldn't ever force you to betray your principles.

12.3.2 LYDIA: You've heard of the Merry Pranksters, right?

4.
The hotel. NICK has stepped back into the room. He blows a stream of smoke towards the ceiling. In his bed, the girl stirs.

12.4.1 NICK: sure.

12.4.2 LYDIA (via phone): Well, it's something like that.

12.4.3 NICK: Yeah, yeah. I get it now. You're Kaiser ****in' Soze arentcha?

5.
LYDIA's office. She smiles like a cat, pleased.

12.5.1 LYDIA: Good night, Nick. I'll see you in a couple of days.

12.5.2 NICK: See ya in sixty years.

6.
The hotel. The GIRL, propped up in bed, watches NICK, bleary eyed. He's flinging the phone away.

12.6.1 GIRL: Mmmmm...? Whussat inner han'Nicky?

12.6.2 NICK: A toy, baby. Forget about it.
 
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Well, three pages really don't show us much of the story, though I can visualize the panels, so that's good.

Yeah, I know. I've got the first issue mapped out pretty square in my head, but I'm slow moving on typing it on a level that satisfies me (really I'm just a lazy stoner). I just thought I'd post it, because I thought that opening image was neat, and I think the dialogue is kind of slick so far.
 
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YOU TEASE!!!

That's a sweet prologue. I have no clue what to expect next (or even what the central premise is going to be, for that matter). Nevertheless, you've effectively set a fascinating mood for the story, and i'm eager to find out just where this is headed.

Got any character or location sketches to accompany this snippet?
 
YOU TEASE!!!

That's a sweet prologue. I have no clue what to expect next (or even what the central premise is going to be, for that matter). Nevertheless, you've effectively set a fascinating mood for the story, and i'm eager to find out just where this is headed.

Got any character or location sketches to accompany this snippet?

Many gracias.

Nothing yet. Thursday's usually my business light day, so I'll probably cruise around town and get the reference photos I need. The video shop is modeled on a rental place around the corner from me called Videodrome, and I know exactly the skyscraper to use for that first panel.

I'm a pretty ****ty artist, but I'll probably do some design work for the different ads and corporations that are going to be popping up, because they're pretty essential to the story. I see it as an ongoing, with the first issue being an eighteen-page one-shot using the Casanova template. And I should have at least the first half of it posted up before I go to bed. But the basic premise of the comic is inspired by the theory of psychogeography. The next 2/3 pages should give you a pretty good feel for what Nick does, and how he does it. Hopefully I'll have a rough draft of a script by Thursday, and I can focus on visualizing the world. Once that's done, I'm going to start transferring all the stuff over to my currently empty blog space. I'd like to get together a little community of writers with connected blogs to do some constructive criticism and workshopping with projects different people are working on, but first I want to get something tangible on paper.
 
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But the basic premise of the comic is inspired by the theory of psychogeography.

I swear, if I had money to throw around, I'd fund this in a heartbeat!!! Including the cost of finding a kick *** illustrator to partner with you. It could turn out to be the most convoluted piece of crap ever, and i'd still give it a chance, based on this aspect alone.

The world needs more comics with psychogeography themes. Srsly! (Vertigo's Vinyl Underground is doing a reasonably satisfying job of it, with one character who's personally attuned to the spatial mythology of London.

But it's still a very underexplored concept, and the more attempts to flesh it out, the better, I say.

And Ourchair recently pointed out a (prose) novel with some cool psychogeographic themes, but i'll probably start a dedicated thread about it, in the Book forum, sooner or later.
 
I swear, if I had money to throw around, I'd fund this in a heartbeat!!! Including the cost of finding a kick *** illustrator to partner with you. It could turn out to be the most convoluted piece of crap ever, and i'd still give it a chance, based on this aspect alone.

The world needs more comics with psychogeography themes. Srsly! (Vertigo's Vinyl Underground is doing a reasonably satisfying job of it, with one character who's personally attuned to the spatial mythology of London.

But it's still a very underexplored concept, and the more attempts to flesh it out, the better, I say.

And Ourchair recently pointed out a (prose) novel with some cool psychogeographic themes, but i'll probably start a dedicated thread about it, in the Book forum, sooner or later.

Yeah. If you could toss that title my way, I'd be indebted to you. I Don't have a lot of experience with the idea, so mostly I'm running by the seat of my pants.

The character was originally going to be a supporting character in another story I was working on called Doktor Bizarre which is going to attempt to tell a modern version of Steranko's Doctor Strange in the same way that Casanova basically modernizes Steranko's Nick Fury.

My buddy's pretty connected in the Atlanta graffiti scene, so I'm going to see if he can apprentice me so I can learn the ropes properly.
 
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Yeah. If you could toss that title my way, I'd be indebted to you. I Don't have a lot of experience with the idea, so mostly I'm running by the seat of my pants.

Sure, it's Forever by Pete Hammill, and it's not *so* bound to the concepts of psychogeography that you have to be into subculture to appreciate it. In fact, it ought to appeal even to people who love stuff like Fables.

On the other end of the spectrum, where the theory aspects border on pretentiousness, there's the work of Rohit Gupta, adapted here in neat comic format.
 
Sure, it's Forever by Pete Hammill, and it's not *so* bound to the concepts of psychogeography that you have to be into subculture to appreciate it. In fact, it ought to appeal even to people who love stuff like Fables.

On the other end of the spectrum, where the theory aspects border on pretentiousness, there's the work of Rohit Gupta, adapted here in neat comic format.

Thanks, dude. Updated through page seven.
 
Thanks, dude. Updated through page seven.
Okay, I'm *definitely* liking where this is headed now!

Wait... Forgive me if you'd mentioned this somewhere in the details, but is th e city meant to be patterned after Chicago or Atlanta? Or is it a kind of composite "EveryCity"? Because you *do* have reference to real historical figures there.
 
Okay, I'm *definitely* liking where this is headed now!

Wait... Forgive me if you'd mentioned this somewhere in the details, but is th e city meant to be patterned after Chicago or Atlanta? Or is it a kind of composite "EveryCity"? Because you *do* have reference to real historical figures there.

Neither. Nick operates out of an unnamed metropolis that will probably just be referred to as City. The idea is that every city since the beginning of time is merely a configuration of seven mythic cities that exist outside of time. He communes with the seven mythic cities as a means of performing magic. "Terminus" is one of these cities. Terminus isn't Atlanta (although Atlanta used to be named Terminus, at a point in time when it resonated particularly strongly with the mythic city). It's the manifestation of the city as a place of transit, basically an endlessly sprawling, transdimensional terminal of interweaving subway tunnels, train stations, and overhead railways that connects every street, building, and alleyway that's ever existed. He just used it to step out of his town in the present and into Vegas circa 1946.

And there's more than a reference. He's going to meet Bugsy Siegel in a couple pages. And the massive news conglomerate that Eric works for in the present is called Lansky Entertainment Action Network.
 
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I like it. I like it a lot. Great dialogue. And psychogeography is an interesting concept so I'll definitely keep checking back here for updates.
 
The section I worry most about is the caption narrative giving background on Eric Cameron. Do you guys feel like it's too heavy handed and expository?
 
The idea is that every city since the beginning of time is merely a configuration of seven mythic cities that exist outside of time.
This concept is really winning me over with each successive revelation. At first, I presumed the "seven cities" would refer to a conspiracy of seven families or kin groups (sort of like the "five families" of the Mafia, or in geekier terms, the Pride from Runaways, or the Trust from 100 Bullets). I'm thrilled to realize there's a more fanciful explanation, because that really broadens up the scope.

It's definitely no shortcoming of your writing, by the way. Obviously, you've made a conscious attempt to withhold the full details, in favor of drawing the reader into your fictional universe, one step at a time. And so far, the narrative structure has done just that. Really looking forward to discovering how this shapes up...
 
The section I worry most about is the caption narrative giving background on Eric Cameron. Do you guys feel like it's too heavy handed and expository?
Hmm... It all depends on the kind of visuals it's being paired with. Dave Lapham's Young Liars and Jonathan Hickman's Nightly News both use a similarly "info dense" approach to captions, but it doesn't feel clunky because the words are oriented on the page in a way that doesn't overwhelm the expressive, dynamic artwork. So the layout of the panels will make or break the script (even beyond the fundamental aesthetic merits of the art style used). It's just the nature of the medium, I guess.
 
This concept is really winning me over with each successive revelation. At first, I presumed the "seven cities" would refer to a conspiracy of seven families or kin groups (sort of like the "five families" of the Mafia, or in geekier terms, the Pride from Runaways, or the Trust from 100 Bullets). I'm thrilled to realize there's a more fanciful explanation, because that really broadens up the scope.

It's definitely no shortcoming of your writing, by the way. Obviously, you've made a conscious attempt to withhold the full details, in favor of drawing the reader into your fictional universe, one step at a time. And so far, the narrative structure has done just that. Really looking forward to discovering how this shapes up...

Thanks. There's a central twist to the story that's going to reveal itself at the end. The one thing I'm worried about is being able to pull it off without it feeling cheesy, but won't be able to know if it does or not until the story's done. My other worry is whether or not the graffiti and the design elements of the various advertisements will translate well to the page. I'm thinking the graffiti and ads may have to be distinctly different from the style of the rest of the art, and then overlaid onto the page.

I've got four of the seven cities sketched in my head. The other three need a little more tinkering. But just wait until you see Heliopolis, lonely city of a suicidal god.

Edit: Hm... So this might turn into a 22 page script after all.
 
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Started reading Vinyl Underground. It's fun. I'm going to need to make some alterations to the pages I already have, and twist around what I had planned just a little bit.
 
It looks like I might be scribbling the words and DiB might be scribbling the pencils. He said that maybe what I had up wasn't necessarily the right way to go for an introduction issue. So I'm briefly pushing it out of the way and stepping in with something that's maybe a little more accessible. Here's a start:

TITLE: JACKY METRO in LA PETITE MORT

PAGE ONE:
ST. EXPEDITUS' CHURCH OF THE DELIVERER. An abbey-style church in the heart of the city (photo ref. to come. I've got a few possibilities downtown picked out). It could be sitting at the peak of an Italian hill but here it is tumbled out of time amongst the city buses. It comes complete with a wrought iron gate encircling a respectable cemetery. St. Expeditus is sort of the Hermes of the saintly pantheon, and there's a legend that the Saint never existed at all, that "Expeditus" was mistakenly attributed to a parcel full of relics labeled as "Expedite" that were sent to a nunnery or monastery. I'm sure there's a story behind the church itself, but that's not going to come up just yet. Expeditus is also linked to Papa Guede i.e. Baron Samedi in some strains of voudun. Incidentally, the church may be sponsored by X-Kranc'd (The X makes a crucifix), a holy water energy drink.

1.

EXT. CHURCH. JACK METRO and RAN REINHOLDT approach the church in respectable suits. JACK chain smokes. A throng of protestors mob the gates to the cemetery, an event put together by anti-substances political action group THE WORD. I'll be working on some design elements for them. They holler and scream and wave signs in the air. "Suicide is too good", "Death Dealers Die", "C'est une bonne mort". Beyond the gates, a burial service proceeds.

1.1.1 RAN: Nah, I get it Jack. I didn't go neither. Couldn't handle seeing his face like that, I guess...

2.

JACK carries a skeptical look.

1.2.1 JACK: Ran, after that ****, there's no way Mike's face was equipped for an open casket.

1.2.2 RAN: Yeah. Shiiit. Guess Groucho gag glasses just wouldn't cut it.

1.2.3 JACK: Dude...

3.

The two approach the throng of protestors. JACK crushes the cigarette underfoot, head lowered, shaking. One of the protestors turns on the two as they approach, nostrils flared at the smell of burning nicotine.

1.3.1 JACK: I don't even have words.

1.3.2 PROT: Hey death enabler! You had any respect you'd walk right up to that casket, unzip, and--"

4.

JACK pulls back, cracks a mean punch square across the kid's jaw. The crowd bristles. The two mean cops stationed around the gate, smoking away (probably just to piss the kids off) raise their hackles.

1.4.1 CAP: There's grief...

PAGE TWO:
The burial service. A minister intones over the plot of MIKE LITTLE. Folding metal chairs radiate from around him, seating a decently sized group of spectators. In front of the coffin stand LOUISE LITTLE and SWEET MELISSA LITTLE. LOUISE is in her late forties and in the throes of cancer. She's doing her best to cover it up with a wig, cosmetics, flattering clothing, but she's suffered from the disease and the chemo. SWEET MELISSA we've talked about. She's heartbroken. Standing towards the back are SISTER M and COUSIN C. CUZ looks like Lee Marvin in his prime, dope suit, white hair, shades, fedora. SIS has a strong dash of Christina Ricci, a tiny, waifish thing with a heroin stare. She'd be wearing something black and languid even if it weren't a funeral. She is the Dormouse to CUZ's Hatter.

1.
JACK and RAN settle in with the rest of the standing crowd. This should be a full shot of the graveyard, their backs to us, SIS and CUZ standing nearby, the MINISTER at the head of the shot.

2.1.1 MIN: And then there is tragedy. The question of why a young man with so much potential, so much heart, so much mind, such a family to anchor him, why a man like this would be compelled to bring it to such an abrupt end...

2.
JACK, RAN, and CUZ in frame. RAN is appraising the tail. JACK looks chagrined. CUZ listens on in sidelong amusement.

2.2.1 RAN: That the waitress sitting in the back? From Black Horse? With the ***?

2.2.2 JACK: Yeah.

2.2.3 RAN: She's looking good, huh?

2.2.4 JACK: Yeah.

2.2.5 RAN: With that back dropping low and ****.... How'd Mike know her?

2.2.5 JACK: Dunno, Ran.

2.2.6 RAN: You mind?

2.2.7 JACK: ....

2.2.8 JACK: No.

3.
RAN's scooted away to work his game in the back aisle. Preacherman keeps preaching. JACK, head bowed. CUZ has sidled in a little closer.

2.3.1 MIN: [BLANK]

4.
CUZ offers out a pack of cigarettes to JACK. The brand name reads "La Petite Mort". They're slims. That and the package design suggest a female demographic, not the kind of cigarette a stone cold cat like CUZ would normally smoke.

2.4.1 CUZ: Nice service.

2.4.2 JACK: No.

2.4.3 JACK: I mean, no thanks. But yeah. Fine enough, I guess.

5.
CUZ has flipped a cigarette into his mouth. He strokes a zippo to the smoke with one hand while he counts off on the other.

2.5.1 CUZ: Always how it goes. "Fine enough".

2.5.2 CUZ: The Vikings knew how to throw a funeral. Creoles still do. Irish. Haitians too. Hear the Indians know how to roll it right. Red dot. That's just second-hand. Never seen it. But other than that, it's always "fair enough". But we're living in the twenty-first century kid. Sweet sixteen isn't nothing. THIS is the big event.

PAGE THREE

1.
SIS has sidled in to the frame. She hangs on CUZ's free arm, a limpid accessory. There's a vague, wistful smile on her face. JACK's eyes remain faced forward.

3.1.1 CUZ: I just want a little spectacle. Some fireworks, or a celebrity guest, maybe an open bar. Figured Mike Little would like a little carnival swirled into his farewell tour, yeah? Some last rays from the mourning sun.

3.1.2 JACK: I always pictured an adult clown act and a Motley Crue cover band.

3.1.3 SIS: mmmmm funnel cake and tilty whirl and five tickets for two dollars

3.1.4 JACK: You heat?

3.1.5 CUZ: Cold, Jack. Not as cold as Little but still a whole 'nother ball park.

2.
MELISSA has turned to see JACK, lips in a quivering smile. SIZ coiled into CUZ's side. She tugs on his coat.

3.2.1 MIN: [BLANK]

3.2.2 CUZ: And here comes the juice! Spectacle.

3.2.3 SIS: dizzy spin right round mirror maze issit twine or the reflection of twine - hey Cuz! - whichissit?

3.
MEL flung into a hug with JACK. Everyone has turned to face the back, including LOUISE. Talons dig into her handbag. Her lips are trembling too, but it's a rictus of rage, mandibles working hard to force the venom out in something more tangible than an animal scream. There's a look of despair on the Minister's face as he sees it all about to fall apart.

3.3.1 MIN: ....

4.
CU. LOUISE's face. Her eyes seem ready to burst from her face, bony finger jabbed out in accusation. Spittle flies from painted lips.

3.4.1 LOUISE: There HE is! That's the ********ER that killed my son!
 
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The panel descriptions are great. I can picture the scenes perfectly without the art. The story seems interesting though I don't really have a clue what is going on at the moment. I presume it's all set up for the various characters, who all seem quite different to one another and very strange.

I will be waiting for more though.
 
Like Project said, you can see the panels, just really have no idea on the story yet, not enough here. But I think you may make the panels themselves to wordy, and the word balloons would take over the panel and cover the art.
 

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