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thevindicativevordan · 3 years

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My Take on a Superman Video Game

I've seen other people give their takes on how to approach this, and given Superman and video games are two major topics of interest for me, I thought I'd give my pitch.

So first off, I’m giving him a health bar. Yes I know some people will b**** and no I don’t care. I don’t care what people who get their Superman knowledge from YouTube or Instagram “fact” pages think about the character, and all the other attempts such as the city health bar in the Returns game didn’t satisfy me. So right off the bat he’s getting a health bar. Second: it’s time to start showing casuals areas of Superman lore they either don’t know about or aren’t very familiar with. The reason for that is people think they “know” Superman so we need to immediately show something they DON’T know about or HAVEN’T seen already to get them to not immediately dismiss Superman out of hand based on memes or whatever. Which leads into my third creative point. Third: I’m not setting the first game in Metropolis. The Arkham games didn’t immediately throw you into an open world Gotham, they built up to it. The Spider-Man PS4 game started off with an open world because they were able to build upon dozens of Spider-Man games that laid the ground work for them. The first Superman game in decades needs to avoid biting off more than it can chew, and throwing Superman into an open world feels like a bad idea. So where can it be? Well there are options. There’s Warworld. There’s Apokolips. But I think the best location is one that’s intrinsically tied to Superman and his Kryptonian background, and serves as a nice counterpart to Batman starting out in Arkham Asylum: The Phantom Zone

The Asylum was a great starting point for Batman for a couple reason: 1. It’s the iconic prison where Batman leaves his Rogues, 2. It’s gothic and horror esque vibe crafts the perfect atmosphere, and 3. it’s place as a center for examining the mind makes it great for exploring Batman’s mental state. For similar reason the PZ is the perfect place to start off Superman: 1. It likewise is an iconic prison for Superman Rogues 2. It’s science fiction and horror mixed together which crafts the perfect atmosphere for Superman to kick ass or be introspective, and 3. It lets Kal come face to face with his Kryptonian heritage in the nastiest way possible as he’s dumped into a place filled with prisoners his father helped exile as well as all the other monsters and criminals other races have dumped there. So he’s going to the Zone but how does he get there and what’s the story? It would be boring if he just walked in. Here’s the pitch: It’s Year 2 of Superman’s career. He’s already established himself as a hero in Metropolis and worldwide. The public knows he claims to mean them no harm and that he only seems to do good deeds, but they know very little about his origins and are divided as to his true intentions. The problem is Clark himself doesn’t really know his origins either beyond knowing he’s an alien from another planet. His only relics from his home planet are the rocket, a tablet written in a language he can’t read, and a curious device that doesn’t seem to have any use. As a show of goodwill, and because he hasn’t made any progress understanding them himself, Clark turns the tablet and the device over to STAR Labs for study. One day as he’s beating down some Intergang thugs, reality twists, and suddenly Clark finds himself in a place that is definitely not Metropolis. The “earth” is chalk white, the sky is a purple, green lightning flashes around as far as he can see, and where the sun should be there’s instead a black hole. Somehow Clark and the terrified Intergang thugs have ended up in the Phantom Zone with no idea of how they got there and how to get back.

The thugs accuse Clark of transporting them there and attack him, with Clark suddenly realizing his powers are fading in this place with no sunlight. Luckily a stranger arrives and aids Clark in dispatching the thugs. Clark thanks him for his aid and then asks who he is. The stranger pauses and tells Clark: “My name is Dru-Zod, a general of Krypton”. He raises a hand for Clark to shake. “I was a friend of your father, Kal-El”. Zod tells Kal about the place he’s in, and his history with it. He tells him that other humans have been brought here as well besides the Intergang thugs, including many of Clark’s foes. Zod informs Clark that the likely culprit for their arrival to the PZ is the very first prisoner Jor-El ever banished to the Phantom Zone: Xa-Du the Phantom King, who has spent so long imprisoned that he seems to have obtained a degree of control over the Zone that gives him strange powers. Kal is told that if he does not collect the scattered humans and escape the Zone soon, he and the humans will become trapped there, as anyone who spends too long in the Zone eventually becomes unable to leave without special equipment on the other side to bring them back, thanks to the way the Zone warps the inhabitants. Kal’s mission is clear: Collect the scattered humans, defeat and pacify his foes trapped there with him so they can be brought back as well, and defeat the Phantom King before he tears a hole between the Zone and the real world that could cause catastrophe for Earth. That’s the basic story pitch, next I’ll go into gameplay mechanics and what Rogues I’d use.

Clark starts the game having been de powered back to “Golden Age” power levels due to there being no sun in the PZ. Zod teaches him about Sunstones that grow naturally in the PZ, which will allow him to slowly re-empower himself. The Sunstones ward off the PZ’s influence and basically act as perk points for Clark to unlock and upgrade his powers. At the start he can’t fly, he can only run and leap. Zod acts as Kal’s mentor throughout the game, teaching him about Kryptonian history and how to read the language. He also tutors him in the dangers of the Phantom Zone as well as training him to hone his powers. Kal gets the feeling there’s more to Zod than he’s letting on though, and some of his comments raise Kal’s suspicions. The base of the game is the Fortress of Solitude.

It’s backstory is that when Jor-El first discovered the PZ, he built the FoS as a research outpost to study the place. It’s packed full of Kryptonian tech and it has the ability to shift back into the natural world. Zod couldn’t use it because it’s caretaker Kelex only responds to House El members. However it won’t shift back until it judges its user “sterilized” in order to avoid contaminating the natural world with the Zone’s influence. Because Kal was brought over so suddenly and without the proper tech, he has to use Sunstones to purge the Zone from his body before the Fortress will respond to his commands. This is a nice way of tying the gameplay and story together. Kal needs the stones to save the civilians and to go home, which helps explain why he might do side quests rather than stick with just the main questline. Civilians Superman has to rescue in the Zone: Lois Lane, Perry White, Jimmy Olsen, Dr. Veritas, Ron Troupe, Dr. John Henry Irons, Dr. Hamilton, Bibbo, Dr. Hank Henshaw and his family, Commissioner Henderson, Captain Maggie Sawyer, Detective Turpin, members of the Newskids Legion, Morgan Edge, and other OCs or nameless civilians. Kal also meets Krypto, who was transported into the Zone by Jor-El in order to watch over the Fortress as its guard, in order to keep it safe so that Kal might one day reclaim it. Rogues: Some of Superman’s Rogues have been teleported to the PZ as well, and unfortunately they have their own plans for escaping the Zone, even if it means they have to kill Superman to do it.

Metallo: John Corbyn is a cyborg soldier that served in the US Army under Sam Lane and was created as the government’s Anti-Superman deterrent. After a fight with Superman in his early career left him crippled, he was bonded to a nanosuit that equips him with various weaponry capable of killing Superman. He believes Superman transported everyone there as part of a first strike against humanity. Parasite: A Lexcorp lab experiment gone horribly wrong, Rudy Jones is a science fiction vampire who needs to kill to sustain himself. He absorbs the memories and skills of whoever he kills, and he is able to transform his body into various weapons (think Alex Mercer from [PROTOTYPE] to know what I mean). He’s hunting the civilians to feed on and has his eye on Superman as well. Livewire: Leslie was a vlogger with a far looser code of ethics than Clark. Her “reporting” eventually angered the wrong people who attempted to have her assassinated. Instead Leslie ended up with powers over electromagnetism, and a grudge against Morgan Edge who she believes was behind the Intergang hit on her. Edge is her target but she doesn’t mind stepping over Superman’s corpse if she has to. The Terran (Terra-Man): Krypton wasn’t the only planet to discover the Phantom Zone. One alien race banished the immortal hunter known as the Terran, whose human name was Tobias before he was abducted by aliens who were interested in the potential of the human meta gene and wanted to experiment on him. Their experiment was a success and Tobias broke free, using their own weaponry to hunt them down and carve a bloody path across the stars. Eventually he was transported to the PZ and is now desperate to escape. Mr. Mxy: Who is this creature? Neither a human nor seemingly an alien prisoner of the PZ, Mxy engages Clark in a series of puzzles that reveal secrets about the PZ... and foretell of threats to come. Red Cloud: An enforcer for the Invisible Mafia, her only loyalty is to her boss Leone. Her identity is a secret from Clark for now and she intends for it to remain that way. Silver Banshee: Not every human teleported to the PZ was unchanged. Some reacted much more strongly to the Zone’s influence. One former human has now been twisted into the sinister Silver Banshee, driven insane by the whispers in the Zone and the alterations to her body. She poses a formidable threat to Clark in her current state. Xa-Du: The Phantom King and first prisoner of the Phantom Zone sent from Krypton. Zod claims he was insane even before he was sent here but his incarceration has done nothing to improve his health if so. Gleefully plotting his return to the real world, Xa’s only desire is to raise an army of super zombies with himself as their Necrogod ruler. His time in the Zone has given him control over the degraded Phantoms, and he can channel the energies permeating the Zone into a variety of attacks (basically he’s a space necromancer). His aim is to corrupt Kal-El and the Fortress and use both to travel to Earth and he will never stop hunting Kal. Non boss mooks for Clark to fight: Phantoms - Some of the inhabitants of the Zone have degenerated into the ghostly Phantoms, their only desire to spread their suffering to others. They have been so warped by the Zone they’ve become a part of it and are thus incapable of permanently dying. Shades - Much more powerful Phantoms, Shades retain some memory of their former lives and posses some of their former skills. They serve as the elite of Xa-DU’s forces. Shadowbreed - Native creatures of the PZ, these beings feed on the light of the SunStones and thus see Clark as a meal as well. They possess various animals of the PZ to attack and feed on him. Eradicators - Once these machines served House El in their study of this place acting as defenders. But time has eroded their programming and they now seek to destroy even the Last Son of their old House.

That's the basic of my pitch, I think it's a fairly manageable one that addresses a lot of the arguments you get from people about why a game "wouldn't work" or whatever.

#superman #the phantom zone #supermangame #krypto the superdog #fortress of solitude

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threewaysdivided · 4 years

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I saw your conversation about Sam Manson. I was talking to Imekitty about this, but I’ve noticed a few things that (sort of) make Sam’s relationship with her parents seem more like teen-drama than actual hardship. If you look closely, she’s got a lot in common with them: outspoken political-activism, possible shared-interest in vintage clothes, and no shame in saying they don’t like certain people. Also, after the Fentons, they were the first to volunteer to use the Ecto-Skeleton, risks and all.

(In reference to this post.)

It’s been a little while since I rewatched DP so I’m not well-placed to do a detail-analysis implication-breakdown right now, but yeah - that fits with the overall impression I remember getting. To me they came across as being sort of old fashioned set-in-their-ways conservative and snooty, and maybe a bit too Pleasantville - but more often in the way of parents who do genuinely want good things for her and to be able to be proud of her despite not really understanding her interests, choices or friends and being very bad at expressing it. Plus she seems to have her grandmother fully in her corner a lot of the time.

I really wish that the writers had committed to one or the other; either making it clear that Sam’s martyr/ persecution complex is mostly just regular self-inflicted teen-drama BS and giving her an arc addressing it, OR fleshing out the idea that she faces a lot of judgement/ pressure/ control/ nonacceptance in her home life and that her negative traits are a bi-product of defensive/ coping mechanisms resulting from that strained dynamic, rather treating things with Roger Rabbit Rules.

(Which isn’t to say that a person can’t have similar interests/ personality traits to, and positive interactions with, their parents while still having a strained, broken or even abusive relationship with them on a deeper level, but the show never really goes hard enough in either direction to make it work.)

As mentioned the last post, this is kind of a consistent pattern across DP - the writers tend go with the low-effort first answer for whatever is Funny or Awesome or Convenient in the moment rather than putting in the work to find a solution that’s consistent with the characterisation, themes and world-lore overall. There’s enough internal contradiction in the show that I don’t think it’s actually possible to take every canon detail as canon without fundamentally breaking things. And in some ways that’s kind of cool; it makes the series more open to interpretation, and trying to distinguish authorial intent from authorial incompetence and come up with theories that account for as many pieces of canon as possible is really satisfying. But, you know, it’s also kind of bad writing in general.

I think the thing that bothers me about Sam’s characterisation in particular is that - where it tends to be more obviously out-of-character when it shows up in other places - there’s a pattern to the inconsistency with how the writers handle Sam:

Throughout the series there’s a double standard in how Sam sees herself/ seems to expects others to act, compared to her own behaviour:

Despite being pro-pacifism she’s okay with smacking Tucker and encouraging Danny to destroy the trucks she doesn’t like

Sam values self-expression and is a feminist, but derides other girls for wanting to express themselves in a conventionally feminine way

Sam doesn’t like being forced to conform to others’ values but is okay with forcing others to conform to hers

Despite being anti-consumerist she shows very little discomfort at, or awareness of, her lavish home life and material belongings

She encourages Danny to take the moral high ground towards his bullies but has no problem antagonising and getting into petty verbal spats with Paulina herself

Sam stalks Danny and his love interest out of jealousy/ protectiveness but threatens to end their friendship when he does the same

In Mystery Meat, when Danny tries to express his discomfort/ anxiety, Sam hijacks the conversation to complain about her own parents instead of listening.

In One of a Kind Sam photographs Danny and Tucker hugging in their sleep, without their knowledge, with the stated intent of putting it in the yearbook, then uses it to blackmail them into silence.

Side note: this joke is also tacky on a meta-level because it boils down to “male intimacy ha ha toxic masculinity no homo amiright?“ Would have been nice if show didn’t use low-key sexist humour as much as it did.

Instead of expressing that she’s hurt by Danny’s “pretty girls” comment in Parental Bonding, Sam retaliates by pushing him to ask Paulina out - a move she knows will most likely result in him getting publicly shut down and humiliated.

Then, after getting the result she wanted, she comes over to gloat and insults Paulina, rather than dropping it now that her point’s been made, which is what ultimately sets off the episode’s subplot.

In Memory Blank Sam permanently physically alters Phantom’s appearance to better suit her tastes while he’s not in a position to understand or give informed consent, then lies when Danny notices and asks about it later.

To be clear this definitely isn’t the be-all-and-end-all of her character and it’s not there 100% of the time - there are plenty of moments when she is loyal and generous and helpful and sincerely kind and where her stubbornness comes in handy. But it’s the aggregate pattern of all these small instances that drives a crack through the foundation of her character integrity; producing this insidious undercurrent alternate-reading of Sam as someone who, at a deep level, just doesn’t respect or recognise that the emotional needs, pains, opinions, autonomy and boundaries of others are as real and valid as her own, and who responds to criticism with passive-aggressive hostility.

Again, I think that’s why people are so quick to point out that line from Phantom Planet, even though we all know the episode was a complete mess. None of the examples above are particularly bad in isolation - you can’t really point at any one of them and say “oh no, bad girl” without sounding like you’re making a mountain out of molehill and irrationally hating on her just to hate on her. It’s an uncomfortable slowburn pattern of subtle micro-transgressions that accumulates across the series - a “you might not notice it but your brain did”. And it makes sense that it would be the worst-written episode that amplifies and brings that regular bad-writing undercurrent close enough to the surface for people to consciously recognise and use it to articulate those frustrations.

To wit: Not because it’s most telling of her character but because it’s most telling of the specific bad writing that regularly hurts her character.

And again, from a storytelling point of view, it’s okay for Sam to have flaws. She’s a teenager! She’s learning. She’s allowed to be egocentric and self-important and do things that aren’t the best at times. It’s okay if these are her character weaknesses and a source of conflict with the rest of the cast. But again, for that to be satisfying something really should have come of it. It would have been nice if the writers were willing to have any self-awareness about these flaws being flaws that a person should recognise and grow past in order to have healthy relationships with others. But they didn’t - because it’s easier to keep her as she is - to the point that they’ll actively bend the narrative to roll back or skip over moments that would have necessitated that growth. So, even though they call attention to her flaws, the writers end up rewarding and enabling them instead of letting her learn.

And again, this isn’t meant to hate on Sam. Hanlon’s Razor in full effect: it’s clearly a result of authorial/editorial incompetence rather than deliberate malice. I know this isn’t the intended interpretation.

My preferred reading of Sam Manson is that she’s a Rosa Hubermann/ Hermione Granger/ YJS1 Artemis Crock-type character. Someone who’s passionate and forceful and maybe a bit abrasive and hard to love at a glance, but whose core nature is compassionate and sincerely kind and loyal-to-the-death for the people they value. I wish I could 100% like her without caveats; to be able to say that even if I don’t agree with her flaws I can at least understand that they’re a valid product of the life she lives, that they make her who she is and that she’s trying her best to be a good person who will get better despite them.

But I can’t because the writers don’t give her that. They’re always prioritising other things over the integrity of her character. They don’t give her background enough time and context to make her negative traits feel resonant with it (because that would take time away from the Wicked Cool Radical Ghost-Fighting Superhero Action™) and the framing and plotting doesn’t give her chances to recognise or grow past them (because that would mean character development and those negative traits are an easy source of cheap conflict). The writers just don’t seem to care all that much about Sam - her actual character, who she is, how she came to be that way, what she wants or how her negative traits would actually play against Danny and the others.

And that sucks. Because she has a lot of potential to be a well-rounded and great character. I’ve seen plenty of fics that seize that potential and roll with those gaps and the result is very good. I wish I could like her canon depiction without feeling like I have to actively ignore a bunch of latent behavioural red flags as the price of entry.

She deserved better.

#Danny Phantom #Sam Manson #Character Writing #Character Analysis #I'm also going to cop to the fact that this part of Sam gets to me personally #because it mimics some of my experiences with emotionally abusive relatives #feeling really uneasy and uncomfortable and upset but not being able to articulate what they're doing that makes you feel that way #and wondering if maybe it's your fault and you're just reading into things too much and you're bad for not defending them #until they do something really egregious and suddenly it's like 'oh' 'OH' 'OH SH*T THAT'S NOT OKAY'#And then you look back and see all the little red flags and from then on you can never un-see them #One of the reasons I only like fanon!AmethystOcean is I can see how badly things are likely to go when Danny's flaws meet these problems #Danny's canon flaws are ones that make him particularly susceptible to emotional abuse #and they accidentally wrote canon!Sam with a lot of latent proto-abusive red flags #they both need character development to work as a couple #but this is Danny Phantom and I guess we're chumps from expecting that #anonymous #3WD answers

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 5 years

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Just You And Me - Phic Phight 02

Event: Phic Phight 2019 Team: Team Ghost

Title: Just You And Me

Prompt Giver: Ave-aria on tumblr

Prompt Chosen: One side effect of fighting spooks in your spare time? It makes for a lot of good stories to tell around the campfire. While away at camp, Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz get the chance to share some of their best and creepiest firsthand Ghost Stories, with their classmates none the wiser. *Can also be set Post Phantom Planet if desired.

Rating: T Content Warnings: Mentions of past character death (ghost). Status: Complete Final Word Count:1,028

Author’s Comments: Written alongside Kasena/Cheshire-Kas!

Summary: What’s better than real ghost stories around the campfire? Well, it’s a lot more fun when the ghosts actually show up.

Click here to read the work on Archive Of Our Own.

⍣ I have a Patreon! Support me?⍣ ☪ I have a tip jar! Buy me a coffee?☪

They had gotten the campfire going, and now it seemed like everyone was looking around, waiting for something. It was Dash that finally spoke, “So. Who’s got some good ghost stories?”

“Ghost stories?” Danny felt the grin growing on his face as he realized this stupid camping trip he had been forced to go on might end up being more fun than he thought. “Depends on how scared you’re willing to get.”

“Jeez, Fenton, we want something actually scary. What are you gonna tell us about? The little ghost kitten that went ‘meow?’”

“If that’s the only story you think you can handle, Dash, sure,” Sam cut in sweetly. “Just leave it, Danny. Pretty obvious they can’t handle stories like we’re used to telling.”

Kwan leaned forward. “What kind of story would you guys tell?”

Danny looked at their classmates and shrugged. “Just the story about Amber.”

“Amber?” Star frowned, huddled in a jacket and already looking wary. “Amber who?”

“You haven’t heard about Wailing Amber?”

Sam and Tucker looked at him and they all grinned as they leaned forward. “Amber was just another girl. A teenager, she wanted to be a total popstar.”

“She was sixteen when she died, and that was probably about ten years ago.”

Dash shook his head, interrupting almost immediately, “You’re really just gonna start off with ‘oh, here’s this girl who died ten years ago.’ Weak, Fenton. Weak.”

“Well, hang on. Gotta build up to it, first,” he told Dash with a grin. “Amber went to a high school pretty close by. She loved writing songs, and so she had sheet music and a whole bunch of lyrics and stuff around her bedroom, right?”

“It was total music heaven,” Sam laughed. “She loved the guitar, the most, and she was actually really good at it. She could even play a few other instruments, but the guitar was the best for her, and she knew that she and her guitar were going to be famous.”

“Amber, you know, she was a teenager, right? She had a crush on a guy at school. His name was Adam, he was like the Dash Baxter of their school.”

“Aw, yeah, sounds awesome!”

“Dude was totally not awesome.”

“Aw, what? You said he was like me!” Dash whined, a few of the other A Listers snickering or hiding behind coughs. “How bad could the dude be?”

“She asked him out, and he said yes,” Danny said. “He told her to meet him… In the forest right around here. At midnight. You know what she thought was gonna happen. So she came out here to the forest, and she waited.”

Sam picked up the story. “She got there at about eleven-thirty. She didn’t have a watch, or a phone, so she never knew what time it was. Midnight came and passed, and he never showed.”

“She kept waiting,” Tucker said. “She waited until one. Until two. When she finally got home, it was like four in the morning.”

“Jeez, what a douchebag,” Kawn grumbled, crossing his arms as he looked around. “And she was alone throughout all of this? Until that late?”

“Yeah, they basically thought Amber was like one of the losers.”

“Amber went back home and basically passed out in her bed.”

“While she was sleeping, her house caught on fire. Remember all that music and those papers? They lit up. She stayed up so late, she didn’t even wake up. She didn’t make it.”

“They say that if you’re out here, late at night, you can hear her practicing one of her songs while she waits for him to come meet her.”

Paulina gave a huff, crossing her legs, “Please, there’s no way any part of that is…” Paulina trailed off due to the fact that a gentle guitar song was filtering through the trees. “Oh, very funny, Fenton. You can stop whatever you’re playing on your phone, now.”

Danny pulled up his phone. “My phone’s been off this whole time. Sam? Tuck?” Both of them pulled out their own phones, Tucker even turning his on to show that nothing was playing.

“Then one of you guys need to stop it,” Paulina snapped, everyone else quickly pulling out their phones to show they were either off or not playing anything. The guitar was getting louder, too.

“What if we could be… Just us, you and me?”

“Uh, guys?”

“Oh, no way, no way, no way, no way, I refuse to be the dumb jock in the horror movie! Fenton! This was your stupid story do something!”

Just before anyone could do anything, there was a rustling in the bushes near them, and a translucent girl with a glow about her came forward. She looked like any other teenage girl, except obviously ghostly. “You finally came.”

Danny watched with absolute glee as every kid there except him and his friends screeched and then took off running into the woods. It was impossible to hold in his laughter as the ghostly girl’s form flickered before Ember was floating in front of them and looking amused, “Man, babypop, you’re more sadistic than I thought.”

“That’s not sadistic,” Danny defended. “That? That was payback!” Tucker was still laughing, Sam shaking her head with a happy sigh.

“I hope Paulina breaks a heel before they get back to camp.”

Danny stood and looked at Ember. “You alright?”

“Aw, worried about me?” Ember laughed, flying over to ruffle Danny’s hair. “No worries, Danny, I’m fine. Besides, did you see the looks on their faces? Johnny and Kitty are gonna be jealous missing out on this.”

“And hey, that sounded like a cool song,” Tucker pointed out. “You just start writing it?”

Ember blinked, looking surprised before giving a rare, softer smile, “Thanks for the compliment, but that was actually an old one of mine. Thought I might play around with it again.”

“Thanks for the help, Ember. Those jerks totally deserved it.

“Of course! And hey, you know, if you ever told a story about two lovesick teenagers who died on a motorcycle… And then a ghostly motorcycle just happened to run through you all…”

“We’ll save it for next time.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 19 #i pressed a button (so watch what i can do)#drabble collection

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talesofzero · 7 years

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La Douleur Exquise - Ch. 6

AU; Chapter 6 - The Case of Green

Dick’s color is green because he’s here for that cash. Pay the gross sand boy. “When’s there going to be actual smut in this fic?” Next chapter?? Maybe?? Idk

~3k words.

We had a mail day once a week. Kei went to our box on-planet, scanned for anything explosive or toxic, and brought back a bag of whatever she didn’t need to destroy as a precaution.

Harlock got the occasional letter, though I never saw him open them. Zero got the most mail out of all of us and always looked confused by his stack of letters and boxes. Daiba, Monono, Shep, and the Kodais got nothing. At least, Susumu used to get nothing. This time Kei came back with a box from his client. Susumu looked at it like it might rear back and bite him.

Usually I was the only one getting weird things from clients. Kei always used her foot to push the boxes my way, her nose wrinkled. The only thing she handed to me was the occasional letter with the worst chicken scratch scrawled across the front.

“What’s that?” Tadashi asked as I tore open my latest one. “Did someone actually hand-write you a letter? I’ve never seen a hand-written letter.”

“Only rich sorts on my planet have any sort of useful tech,” I said. “Since it’s a desert planet, everything gets clogged with sand unless we make it right.”

“You’re from a desert planet? That sounds rough.”

Unfolding the paper sent dirt spilling out. The words were all smudged, many misspelled, but he was getting better. “You get used to it,” I said. “What sort of place did you grow up?”

“Oh, I uh, I grew up with my brother.” His eyes screamed for help as he pointed toward Daiba. I would have expected them to corroborate their story a little better.

“Yeah? Where was that?” I didn’t care, but it was funny to watch him go wide-eyed with panic. None of us would have cared about whatever he was trying to hide, so I wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. A fifteen year-old couldn’t have anything that serious under his belt. Even if he did somehow, Harlock wouldn’t have let him stay.

Still, it didn’t matter, so I let him off the hook. “I just can’t believe all these guys letting their little brothers work here. It’s just absurd,” I said as I plopped down on the couch to properly read the letter. Parts of it were like trying to decipher a code.

Tadashi’s white-knuckle grip released from the hem of his dress when he realized he was safe. “Didn’t...your older brother let you work here?” he asked.

“Harlock’s not really my brother,” I said.

He got the message that time and shuffled away to get the broom for all the dirt I’d trailed onto the floor. Before I could get too far into my letter, though, Daiba leaned over the back of the couch, all glares and growls. “Dick, are you being mean to my brother?”

“I would never,” I said as I reached up and patted his cheek. No matter how hard he tried to scare me, I always found Daiba cute. Sure, his bite was as bad as his bark, but he would never hurt one of us.

Except me. He might hurt me.

I had to pull my hand away to keep him from biting off my fingers. “Don’t be an ass!” he snapped. “And don’t talk to him! Don’t look at him!” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t think about him.”

“I’m sure you think about him enough for all of us,” I said.

He didn’t budge. His face remained a stony mask of anger, but his cheeks did tinge pink. The longer he glared at me, the more the color infected his ears too. “Cute,” I said.

Throwing myself toward the ground was the only way to avoid the punch that came barreling toward me. “I’ll kick your ass!” he screeched. “Get back here!”

Once I rolled out of his reach and regained my footing, I dashed for the stairs. I’d learned how to run from all the times I was caught pickpocketing, and his short legs didn’t stand a chance. “Love you, Daiba!” I called as I raced up the stairs two at a time. “Keep up the good work.”

He let out a yowl like a cat drenched with water, but I’d already made it to my room. The walls were to all our rooms were soundproof, so if he was still screaming, I couldn’t hear it. My comforter flared up around me as I flopped into bed. Tadashi must have washed it because it smelled of dryer sheets - ideal for burying my nose in as I read the letter.

As usual, things back home hadn’t changed much, but that was what I liked most about the letters. The little stories of daily life peppered throughout brought me back to that planet full of sand and groaning machinery. I’d been so accustomed to a world with endless pulses of heat during the day and bone-chilling cold at night that the first time I ever felt a/c was on the train out.

I had to ask the conductor what it was.

We saved for months to get me that train ticket, all in hopes that I could get a job that would get my brother out as well, get him as far away as possible from that wasteland. I’d told him I was going to be a mechanic, and in every letter since I’d left I told him about all the imaginary things I was fixing, all the ships and trains. Like I could ever make the kind of money I sent him from a job like that.

As I reread “Love, Sam,” for the tenth time, someone knocked at my door. “Yeah?” I called.

“Dick, I’ve got a couple new client applications for you.”

I poked my head out into the hall to find Harlock standing there with his arms crossed. Daiba didn’t seem to be hiding anywhere in preparation to jump me, but Harlock must have heard the screaming.

“Try not to antagonize Daiba,” he said. “You’re lucky Tadashi was there to calm him down.”

“Someone can actually calm Daiba down?” I gave a low whistle. “That maid kid’s magic. So let me see these new clients. Are they attractive at all?”

“Well, one of them isn’t human if that piques your interest at all.” He handed me a tablet with all the info he’d dug up on them.

I always felt too aware of myself when near Harlock. It made me want to back away, to put space between us. He was taller, more broad-shouldered, and his eye was the deep brown of old rust. Other than that, though, we looked identical.

There was no denying that we were related. I’d known it from the moment I laid eyes on him.

All the gusto I had upon storming into his office and demanding a job vanished when he raised his head. He stared at me the same way I stared back - his eye filled with confusion and denial.

I’d seen the wanted posters. I knew about my father - not that the man ever deserved to be called that - but I never expected to run into any relatives on his side. The Harlocks were all fabled pirates. They weren’t real. They especially did not run brothels on suspicious, unmarked satellites.

“Alright,” Harlock said once he regained enough of his composure. “You...you want a job. I am hiring prostitutes, but that’s, um- You understand what this work entails-”

“I can handle anything,” I said, struggling to keep my eyes locked on his. I wasn’t opposed to begging. My pride had never been that great, but dammit, begging this bastard for anything was a blow to the gut. “I need the money. Please.”

“Sit down.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk with one hand while the other rubbed harshly at his face. “I won’t be able to just ignore this, so about your father-”

“If you have to know, he was the former Captain Harlock,” I said, dropping into the chair. “I was an accident though. I never met him, and I doubt he knew about me. I didn’t know I would run into you here either if you were wondering about that.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “My father wasn’t the best, but… I know he would have wanted to help you had he known. If all you need is money-”

“I need a job.”

“I can get you something else-”

“This is all I know how to do.”

I only knew the old mechanics of my home planet. Even the tech of the train that brought me was far from my reach. But I’d slept around for money before. It didn’t take much brainpower to figure out sex. Whatever it took to get Sam a better life was worth it.

Harlock looked like he’d aged a few years since I showed up. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll take you on as a prostitute, but if you want to take any classes or need any means to learn a new profession, I will help you. I understand if you want nothing to do with me as family, but as your boss, let me help.”

I should have counted my blessings that he gave me a job. Should have thanked him and walked out. Too bad my temper was stronger than reason. “I don’t need your pity or your guilt, and I certainly don’t need you as family.”

He breathed a sigh through his nose before speaking slow and quiet. “I understand. I won’t force you to consider me or anyone else family.”

That took the wind out of my sails. If there were more than just him, it would be hard to ignore everyone.

“But,” he continued. “Look past your pride for a moment. You can’t be a whore forever.”

He was right. He was always right, dammit. He was right when I insisted on taking clients he’d voted against, right when he told me I had no chance of denying Manabu as family with that kid’s puppy-dog eyes, right about needing the stack of textbooks in the corner of my room, even if I mostly just used the information in them to send lies to my little brother.

Harlock and I were related, but we weren’t family. I’d stubbornly held onto that even after all he’d done for me. I knew it wasn’t fair to direct my grudge against his father onto him. Dammit, if I’d gotten to meet his father, I could have been mad at him instead, but the bastard had to go get himself killed.

If only the man’s brother could have shared the same fate.

“Hey, Phantom! Dick!”

We both went taught as a noose at the yell from downstairs.

“Uncle Franklin, we’re closed!” Harlock yelled back. “It’s Sunday, and past eight at that! What are you doing here?”

“Just came to say hi.”

Despite knowing better, we both shuffled to the end of the hall to see him in those old, dusty boots and wide-brimmed hat. It was a wonder he could see out from under it. He had a scar on each cheek as though to outdo everyone else in the family. Harlock had done his best to hide me from his uncle, but curiosity got the better of me, and the man spotted me when I tried to sneak a glimpse at him. I should have anticipated a keen eye from a sharp-shooter. Despite all my rage-fueled attempts, I could not convince him I wasn’t part of the family tree.

He flopped onto one of the couches, which made Tadashi look ready to faint. The man had tracked in enough dirt to make a farm, and now the couch wore half of it. “Any leftovers hanging around?” he asked. “I’m parched.”

“I can get Monono to fetch you something,” Harlock said, already looking exhausted. “You came just for food, didn’t you?”

“I would never!” he gasped in mock-offense. “I came for the food and the booze and the nice company.”

Harlock looked like he believed that about as much as he believed my lie that I was sending money back home to a girlfriend. As he started down the stairs, I trailed after him. If nothing else, Frank could be entertaining for a while.

“So why don’t you have any tables out here yet?” he asked. “Is that some fancy restaurant thing? Not having tables? It’s fine, I guess. I’m used to eating with a plate in my lap, but I’d think high society could afford some tables.”

“You still haven’t told him?” I asked Harlock in a whisper.

“I’ve told him a dozen times, but he always thinks I’m kidding.”

I was amazed the other guys hadn’t come down to swarm him in attention yet. Frank was so dense that he thought he was getting lucky with a waiter, when really Harlock just had access to his bank account. He paid his dues like any other client. He just didn’t know about it.

According to Harlock, Frank was a couple years younger than his father, but I imagined they looked about the same, so if I’d ever gotten to meet my father, I pictured him just like Frank. Equally cheerful and equally stupid.

The sound of bare feet slapping against the floor made me turn to see Manabu stumbling to a stop at the top of the stairs. “Franklin!” he greeted with a grin and a wave. The kid was the only one in the family who seemed to actually like the guy.

Frank waved back, all smiles. “He’s cute,” he said to Harlock. “Have I met him? Did I sleep with him?”

Harlock’s voice was as dry as my home planet. “That’s Wataru’s son. He’s related to you. You’ve known him since he was a baby.”

“Oh!” Franklin laughed in an odd, wheezy sort of way, like there were holes in his lungs. “He looks different clean.”

To be fair, Manabu was in his pajamas and freshly-showered. His hair stuck to his face in ringlets and bounced along to each of his steps down the stairs. I swore the kid was a puppy in disguise, impossibly cute and eager to please.

“Uncle Franklin, I haven’t seen you in ages,” he said. “How’s Heavy Meldar?”

“About the same as always,” Frank said with a shrug. “Mostly dirt.”

“Gotten in any shootouts lately?”

“Not that they have any proof of.”

Harlock looked like he needed a stiff drink as his uncle whipped a gun from his holster and twirled it with ease. Harlock was also the only one who didn’t jump when the safety failed and the gun went off into the ceiling.

Poor Monono, also in his pajamas, almost threw the food tray in his hands into the ceiling alongside the bullet.

“Please stop trying to kill me,” Harlock said, just looking tired while my heart was trying to break out of my ribcage.

Not as concerned as I thought he should be, Frank frowned and looked over his gun. “Sorry, they’re getting old. I’ll take them apart and check them over.”

“That’s likely what ruined them to begin with,” Harlock muttered as he went over to take the tray from a startled Monono. Poor kid was frozen in shock. “Anyway, Uncle, it’s everyone’s night off, so I hope you weren’t expecting anything from my...wait staff. I’d like for all of them to get proper rest.”

“I’m content with just the meal then. Oh, but I did bring you this. Almost forgot. I’ll trade ya’.” After fishing in the cheap drawstring bag on his shoulder, he pulled out a stack of letters that looked halfway toward crumbling into dust. They were all tied by string, most the same size and shape.

“More mail day for you,” I noted as Harlock traded the tray of food for the letters, confusion twisting his features.

I peered around to see the return address on the top one - Warrius Zero. Judging by the flowing cursive, the letter may have been handwritten as well. It was addressed to Phantom F. Harlock, and once Harlock tugged the string loose and began flipping through them, it became apparent that they were all that way - to Harlock, from Zero. Still sealed.

“Never had a forwarding address for you, and I forgot all about them,” Frank said around a mouthful of potatoes. “Sorry about that. Had ‘em in an old trunk, and I just found them again.”

His hands dropped down to hide it, but I saw. Harlock was trembling. “I see. Thank you,” he said in a voice so thin it could shatter at any moment. He always fought so hard to hide everything, but he was losing his grip over a stack of letters.

He looked so vulnerable, so human, and I understood. Not completely. I would never understand what had happened between him and Zero. But I understood letters and all the memories and pain that could be locked within them.

Because there were a hundred letters under my bed I’d never sent, filled with the truth, filled with every joyful and painful memory I had of being at the brothel. All the letters I was too scared to send to my brother. All the letters promising I’d see him soon.

“Go on,” I breathed just loud enough for Harlock to hear as I nudged my shoulder against his. “We can handle Uncle.”

He smiled. For just a moment, Harlock smiled at me, a slight tug at his lips that warmed his eye. He looked that way at Wataru and Manabu, occasionally even Frank, but not me.

We were related, but we weren’t family. We were much too odd to be family. We must have been something though because I smiled back before turning to Frank with a simple means of distraction.

“So how have your horses been?”

While Frank was sweating bullets and stumbling over an explanation of how he’d managed to kill his past several horses, Harlock slipped off. Manabu was invested enough in the odd tales not to notice either, but my mind kept drifting back to those damn letters. I did need to see my brother before I forgot what he looked like.

The homesickness was starting to kill me.

#dick coyne fic #Harlock fic #Manabu fic #Daiba fic #'is this whole fic just random people showing up at the brothel?' Yes.#AU fic

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