Asleep at the Reality

Max stood on the balcony overlooking the city; he was standing there, staring, and at the moment he felt like a superhero. Watching over his city. He half-expected to hear a scream for help and then off he goes to do another good deed. A cigarette was in his lips, though it wasn't lit. 

He had gotten up from the bed a few moments ago, something in a dream had awoken him. And he couldn't get back to sleep, so he slipped into khakis and came out here, to have a smoke while he thought.

The french doors opened and Maggie strolled out; she was dressed in a night-shirt which declared "Angel of The Morning. Devil of The Night". 

"What's the matter, hun?" Maggie asked. She came up behind him and lay her head on his shoulder. 

"I hate sleep," Max said.

"Those visions bothering you?"

Max lit up the cigarette and took a puff and said, "Not just that, it's images as well, they flash through my head. Like maggots crawling on meat."

Mags pulled up beside him, leaning her back against the balcony. She could see the look on his face, telling her that while he was here, his mind was off in other pockets of realities.

"In another version of myself I think I lived a relatively normal life. When I went to sleep I had forgetful dreams. I really think I did. I really can't remember though, although once in a while I do get these flashbacks. I think they're mine," Max said. 

Mags said nothing but put an arm on his shoulder, could feel the minor tremors in his body.

"My memories are fragmented and sometimes I remember things that I don't even know whether I did or not," he said. He faced her. "I'm just afraid that if I sleep and wake up one morning that you were just a piece of forgotten dream."

"Oh Max," she said. "I'm here with you right now. Sure there are times when the shifts take us elsewhere but we do manage to find each other. Our destiny and our paths are so intertwined that if one of us gets lost, the other will find us."

From a Killer to a Friend

"Quit while you're ahead," Mags told him. She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.

Frank smiled as he paused to adjust his tie. He liked this girl, she had spirit. It was too bad that he was ordered to kill her.

He ducked under Mags' clumsy swing, bringing up his right to smack her in the stomach and send her down to the ground. 

I am the predator. You are the prey. 

Frank pulled out a weapon; enough was enough. He had toyed with this woman long enough and it was time to end it. He had been expecting someone far more superior. From all the intelligence gathered on this subject, he was surprised that she was a piece of cake. He lowered the gun, aiming at her head.

"Time to earn my keep," he said.

Mags looked up at him and smiled, saying, "Oh, you want to play it that way then?"

Before he could pull the trigger to end this charade, Frank saw her eyes narrow with intent, and in a blur she knocked the gun from his hands, sending it skittering along the cement floor. Her fist came up and punched him in three quick jabs. His body felt numb and tingling and he couldn't believe it.

Frank stumbled and fell, defeated. 

She was playing me. 

Mags was on her feet, straightening out her clothes, and she stood over the man who had been about to end her life. She looked down into the eyes of the would-be assassin and she gave him a slight wink.

"Well," she asked, "what shall we do next?"

Frank looked up at her, puzzled, and told her, "Just end it now."

"Well, no," she said as she knelt down beside him. "You were obviously doing what you were told. But I can sense a great uneasiness about your work. You wish to do something more than being told what to do and when to do it."

Frank paused for a few minutes, thinking; he knew that this woman was crazy. A friendly kind of crazy, but crazy nonetheless. The file on her was thick and he had studied her and her associate well.

"Why let it ruin the evening?" she asked as she offered her hand to him. "Let's discuss it over a coffee. There's a nice little place around the corner called Good Tomes, Good Times. I'm supposed to meet up with someone there."

He cracked a smile, this time with a true admiration. "You're crazy, you know that."

"Not as crazy as you were, thinking that you got the best of me," she said. "Let's go, there is some people that I want you to meet."

Tales of the Red Lion

Worcestershire, 1866 

The Red Lion sat on High Street, its clientele a warm and friendly lot. It suited Maggie just fine. It was past eight when she strolled in, took down her umbrella and unbuttoned her petticoat. There was more than two dozen souls already sipping away and enjoying the evening.

"Hello Maggie," the landlord said. "What brings you about this evening?"

"James, why do you ask questions the answers to which you already know?" Maggie replied with a smile. She hung up her umbrella on a peg and strolled into the pub. 

The landlord smiled a broad smile and poured Maggie a drink. "There were three gentlemen callers looking for you earlier this evening. I just thought I should let you know."

Maggie paused at the bar. "Oh really?"

"They were a strange lot; two men in dark suits and a oriental woman," James said as he placed the pint in front of her. He cocked an eyebrow. He knew Maggie could fight since she had cleared the bar several months ago. "You will let me know if there is going to be trouble, won't you?"

Maggie took a sip from the pint and gave James a wink that made his heart skip a beat. "Now why would I want to cause trouble in my home?"

The Recruit

"What's your handle?" Max asked as he extended his hand to help the lad up.

"Goner," the young man said. He really didn't know what to say at the moment; he realized that his life was over anyway.

"Goner?" Max repeated, his hand still extended as an offer to help the lad back to his feet. "Well Goner, I hate to tell you to say goodbye to the rest of your life as you know it."

Goner closed his eyes; he didn't want to see the gun.

He felt Max's hand on his arm helping him up. "Let's see what the Professor has to say to you."

"Huh?" Goner asked in stunned disbelief.

"Goner," Max said. "You might be cursing the day you met me from this day forward."

LEGACIES: the Comic Book Pitch

SYNOPSIS

            Max is going mad. He is plagued by chattering anxieties, lurking rages and slow-burning fears. The traffic and noise of the world becomes intolerable; Max gives up his job and friendships for the static refuge of his apartment. His initiation has begun.

            Maggie, adopted at birth, finally seeks out her natural grandmother. There is a low thunder in Maggie’s heart, subtle but strong enough to disrupt her happiness. She is questing for something, anything, to quiet it. Joanne, her grandmother, is a Knight in the secret Order of the Sovereign House. She offers Maggie membership.

            Two generations ago  Max’s grandfather, the shaman Malcolm, and Joanne found themselves allies in a struggle against the Chainborn. Their callings let them understand each others' hardships and loneliness but refused them the chance to remain together. This is the legacy Max and Maggie must inherit or deny.

            Max’s sufferings drive him back to the city streets where he is visited by the Abrhim-Sol, the spirits of his initiation. In a fugue of car accidents, muggings, shopping sprees and visions Max’s soul is torn apart. Meanwhile, Joanne tests Maggie in the Ways of the Scales, the Sword and the Sun, the principles that guide the Order.

            The initiate’s trials are interrupted by the return of the Chainborn. They are hunting a shaman’s soul for their dark designs and have targeted Max. A traitor to the Order has allied with them; Joanne and Maggie are called to face him.

            Max and Maggie meet under the threat of the Gheddon-Siege, a ritual curse laid by the Chainborn to snare Max while he is at his weakest. The trap fails when Malcolm arrives; he offers his own soul to the Gheddon-Siege and the act of sacrifice counters the Chainborn’s claim.  In the battle, Joanne reunites briefly with Malcolm before she is killed by the traitor.

            Shocked and frightened in the aftermath of the battle, Maggie and Max flee their enemies. They feel a profound attraction between them, but to follow it would endanger both their souls. Max still suffers the shaman’s sickness and Maggie’s knightly purification would be infected. They would be without power, at the mercy of the Chainborn.

            In an act of mystical affirmation and denial, in a rejection of fate’s constraints in favor of the true path of the knight and shaman, the path of heart, Maggie and Max make love.  They embrace the paradox of their legacies - they are a knight and shaman, they are not a knight and shaman - and so surrender to their callings while claiming their freedom.

            Their initiations complete, Marshal and Alison set forth to hunt the Chainborn, together.