Tuesday, February 10, 2009
If anyone cares the IG coupon code for PizzaHut.com works for 20 percent off your first online order, just swap email addresses each time you order and poof! 20 percent off every order. Its good times.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Liebowitz drew the facial structure of his newborn body into a sneer.
Dr. Christmas looked up from the workbench and spied a monitor bank on the south wall, "Yes, yes my little girl has returned."
"She's not like you is she?"
"None at all, more like Mother, and thus all the more reason for you to bring her home to me."
"Her presence reeks of - 'Them'."
"Exactly, she was meant to infiltrate that rabble," Christmas pulled a silvery pistol from his pocket.
"Ah, thats more like my style, Doc."
Gregor handed the bruise-fleshed creature the weapon.
"Yes, take it. Works almost the same way as it looks-"
"Wait, wait, 2 things. One, its bleedin' cold to the touch and two, no trigger," the Liebowitz creature stated matter of factly.
Gregor nodded his head before ushering his creation onto an elevated platform.
"Just aim it and squeeze the grip, I assure you it works, too well."
"Right, get on with it."
Dr. Gregor Christmas gave the creature a knowing nod before mashing the platform's lift button.
What was left of the Sun's rays faded from the sky. Sheila was alone in the dark, cold wasteland. This was her world now.
"Tut, tut little Christmas..."
She spun around on a heel of shadow.
"A there we are," Liebowitz bowed and the ocher-skin flexed and pulled across the bony internal structure of the creature's body.
"Whoever-whatever you are keep back," the young woman eyed the invader while she stepped back into a fighting posture.
"Your Father sent me," and with that he aimed the strange weapon at her and squeezed.
Cheryl blared into Rade's ear as she gestured at the holographic display with an exploded view of the North American continent floated in the air before the duo.
"Ow, dammit", Rade cried aloud, her newly arrived cabin-mate equally scared and now very much irritated her.
"Hold our position here", the former Imperial Officer commanded, ignoring Schezerade's retort.
"Wha- what is it?"
"My son... he's there. I swear it."
The Omnipresent Navicomp's voice quietly intoned, "Occupant Transmission Activated."
Quietly Rade's luminescent captor faded from sight.
Sheila stared at the creature as it shook and banged on the smooth device it clutched.
"You're seriously wasting my time here, I suggest leaving now."
Liebowitz cast the weapon into the snow drifts, spat ichor from its maw in disgust.
Volumes of strength coursed through his Biorg form, every strike, block, and parry traded with the young woman was effortless. It took him one moment too long before he realized he was striking no actual part of her small frame but rather the dark shroud that covered her. In that spare moment a tendril of darkness bound his wrists together before he could connect with a rather punishing haymaker.
a shriek his body registered multiple barbs piercing his chest, abdomen, and throat. His body's syrupy contents spur free from his fresh wounds discoloring the slow below them. His body lurched as it was held aloft by his wrists and the tendrils that violently drove themselves deep into his newborn flesh. A gurgling laugh issued from the Liebowitz creature.
"You're," he hacked, "-terrible at this."
An arc of light severed the tendrils, his body dropping into the melting snow.
"What the-", Sheila turned and witnessed the newly materialized figure hover before her very eyes.
Cheryl was absolutely radiant, the heat of her very presence turned the powdered landscape in her immediate vicinity to slush.
"Stop this - just stop. You're hurting him."
"Who are you, people? Honestly, this is too much."
"Nothing", the Liebowitz creature spoke as he picked himself up. "She's nothing to me."
"But I swear! I can feel it! You're my child-"
"Again", he paused and spat another dollop, "I"m not your anything. I'm just using this body until I come through with my end of the bargain. After that - this husk - it's all yours. Now step aside and let me bring this girl home."
Taken aback at the creature's words, Cheryl's golden halo blazed with heat and light and the area of vanishing snow expanded at a rapid rate enveloping her small audience, and her eternal cry filled the silence of the Arctic wasteland.
As the light ebbed, the night retook the landscape, and Sheila felt her strength return as the shadows washed over her body. Spots danced before her eyes but she could no longer sense the Liebowitz creature.
Sheila let her words probe the world about her.
"Rule? As in British Rule?"
Silence was the reply she received. Standing before Sheila was a mirror image of herself, except this woman was entirely nude and covered from head to toe in a golden metal material.
Monday, October 27, 2008
He adjusted his jacket in the mirror for the fourth time in as many minutes. His appearance not quite right in these eyes, nevertheless the magician practiced another crooked grin.
“How American of you, Johann”, he told the reflection.
Running his palms over a shock of his hair, Johann spun on his heels and spied a welcome sight…
Legs that went on for miles, hips covered by his bed covers, an equally brazen bust, full pouting lips, deep green eyes and an arched eyebrow that spoke volumes.
“Gods, I love being me”, the young magician spoke as he sauntered over to the bed.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
First the AC stuff:
Talisman Saviour - With the conclusion of Wicked Game with Ars Magna #8, and the events leading up to "Book Of Shadows" (a 3 part British Rule/Chaos Court mini series), Talisman Saviour focuses on a handful of Talisman Hybrids that wish to protect their talisman bretheren from both sides of this shadow war between Humanithy and the denizens of the Chaos Court.
I'd say more on this but it'd give away plot points from both Wicked Game and BoS.
Next is an untitled project done jointly with Jac Milnestein about the years before and after the fall of the Imperial Magistrate. My portion will cover the rise of Cheryl Torrance as Lady of Shadows, the formation of the Apothecary Dragoon, and the beginning of the end for Imperial Alchemists.
Basically all the good stuff alluded to at the end of the coming Ars Magna #7.
Finally the Print stuff:
So far I've written a special kind of "prequel" story to an Anthology book covering the Siege Engine storyline that ran through 2001 to 2002 at Artifice Comics. Its really really short but they say it works well save for a teensy continuity error. I blame Jason for this. Naturally.
Also they're asking me to fill in a gap in the stories by writing ANOTHER prequel story to the Nation of Immigrants storyline, which is in and of itself the storyline just before The Siege Engine comes online in Pacific City. That story will be about Prentice and Demerite (aka Joseph Liebowitz), the dead guy who's spirit inhabits the body of Cheryl and British Rule's dead infant son.
And after all that I'm currently working on a novellette that deals with all the mess of dimensional hopping and conquering of the Imperial Magistrate and the Apothecary Dragoon.
Thats more its own schtick, not really an Artifice release but escaping the bounds of Superhero universes and tell some scifi/fantasy-noir tale in my own little way.
All in all it looks like its going to be a busy 2009.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
By Ashley Corgan
The scream defiant and unmistakable.
Rule released the pink, hardened nipple from his teeth and looked into a stare of green rage.
Sheila’s forehead connected with her husband’s nose. Blood spray found purchase on her face and bare chest as he snorted in surprise and pain. Sheila Rule shoved his aching form off her frame and in the same movement a swath of shadow wrapped itself about herself, cloaking her no longer in a form hugging robe but a scarlet and onyx armor.
“I am no MAN’S WHORE!”
Monday, September 1, 2008
But my soul…
Blackened, faded to nothing but shadow.
In isolation I am kept, prepared for what is to come by people who tell me they love me. People who wear bits of my features like a mask.
The darkness envelopes me when I am alone. My eyes go unshut but still I see nothing. The moment the technicians or masqueraders depart from my immediate presence, the shadows coalesce before my sight. The warmth of the halogen examination lamps, the barely perceptible flicker of the fluorescent lighting, turns to a muted cold and my sight gives way to dark.
The weariness that comes of timeless days allows me to welcome the comfort of slumber as it takes me and I welcome the knowledge that my eyes shut of my own accord as dreams spirit me away. In the arms of sleep I can still feel his cold, dry lips on my own. Weisz, my former master, my equal, my memory. He cannot redeem me nor love me. His heart is not my own.
My mother, dead and gone, for which I am thankful. Paul, a daydream of a daft girl. But it is is the perceived screams of Aunt Nicky and Mikey that haunt my slumber. A city died, and they with it.
My home is gone. Forever a scorched earth.
My heroes, dead. Or gone. Or both.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
A new email to go with being an editor at Artifice Comics, apparently since I'm doing so much work I should get to do some more now, eh? Heh.
Anywho, a new issue to come out on Monday, thats right, now I get my own scheduled week for releases each month. Now to get cracking on the rest of Wicked Game.