[Instead of posting another “I totally meant to get this up within a week of the last one, but life got in the way” bit of rubbish, I ‘ave decided this: I am requiring myself to post on here once in any given two week period, and when I do post more frequently — which I will try to do — I will consider those bonus posts… fun fact: I originally was going to use the word “bi-weekly” to describe my intended posting habits, but then I got hung up on the notion of “Wait, does that technically mean once every two weeks, or twice a week?”… so I looked it up to alleviate my confusion. It turns out bi-weekly can mean EITHER twice a week or once every two weeks… hence my confusion. English can be really stupid sometimes, I mean, we can’t even decide how our godsdamned words work! Anyway, prefatory note finished.]
Some time ago I posted a little bit of excerpts of writing I do. That one was rather laser-focused on the little moment that come to me out of nowhere, and having nothing in mind to do with them, I sort-of insert them into little beta-test characters I made years ago. They tend to be contemporary-time bits that I find funny at the moment, but don’t fit into my other writing — my longer writings lean heavily toward the fantasy genre.
I hadn’t put a lot of thought into that until I read a comment by a good friend, she comments here as DizzyBee (I used to teach and learn along-side her at MSU. She’s a clever lady, you should read her stuff), wherein she mentioned that I could “work it into some kind of a story within one of the romance genres. Clearly, it’s a contemporary scene, and I can see it happening in our 21st century, but … I feel like this could be a period piece of some sort”. I loved the idea (and commented as such, if you want to take a looksey on the previous post), and that got me to wondering why…
In my writing process (why is this infernal computational contraption telling me that’s grammatically incorrect? To the depths with you, machine!)… Where was I? Right, writing process. Anyway, I find it difficult to write fiction that is contemporary, or maybe “not fantastically inclined contemporary” is a better way to put it. The reason for that, I think, is that contemporary times are hard for me to want to inhabit fictionally because I already inhabit them “really”. I don’t have the fun I have, jumping away from “the now”. Rest assured, friend, that I realize that there are always ways to turn things ever so slightly in a way that makes thinks different and fun, but having a story that takes place “now”, makes me strain much harder for something to find something interesting to show my reader. I love the feel of different time periods. It just gets me going. If I find myself looking into the Renaissance, Victoriana / Neo-victoriana, Medieval stuff… or even something futuristic like Cyberpunk, or its many, many derivatives, I find myself more able to think, “Let me show this idea/concept I found interesting, it’s pretty cool. Check it out.” And along with that I can put characters, settings, and story lines that drive a narrative.
That having been said, I figured I could show you lot an example of the kinds of hooks and turns I put in my writing that are seeded in personal interest. I am unabashedly a fan of Role Playing Games (think stuff like Dungeons and Dragons for a point of reference, but — once you get into that community — there is a surprisingly large amount of differently themed rabbit holes for one to travel through). I’m also a huge fan of comic books — with a particular emphasis on comic book superheroes. I used to keep more on-top of comics, but I will admit that, fan though I am, I’m not the most up to date individual (keeping current on comic books costs money, more than I have). So a friend of mine likes to play a D&D type game wherein the players play superheroes instead of dungeon-crawling knights and what have you. I found that, while to some degree the general theme of superheroes is fun enough, I like to combine my interests. So I started creating characters that are ripped from the pages of myths and literature (sort of like Thor in Marvel Comics is the Thor of myth).
One of the funnest characters I used was Robin Hood (for reference sake, I’ve been into Robin Hood since I was a kid, you know what I’m talking about)… but how does one make Robin Hood fit into a modern-day superhero story? There are many ways one could do it, but mine was to make him an immortal… moreover, some legends (mostly the older medieval stuff) suggest Robin Hood is the offspring of a pagan nature god… I also thought it might be fun to have his backstory mix with Arthurian legend (maybe he achieved the holy grail like some of Arthur’s knights)… but it would be no fun and leave no room for expanding the character if I lined all this stuff up, so I made a bunch of story threads like these that can allow me to expand in different directions (also, I know this is a little clichéd, but I wrote him that he can only remember from the late 15th/early 16th Century onward). How does he fit in a modern context? My thought was that, in a less depressing Alan Moore‘s Watchmen-esque world where superheroes exist, these major heroic figures of English folklore would work for the nation of England (so there’s like a hyper MI5/MI6 branch of the English government that is full of superheroes). For added drama, I made The Sheriff of Nottingham an Immortal figure too, and while he isn’t a bad guy, his relationship with Robin is strained at the best of times… I also decided — this was for more humor’s sake — that this organization, called The Queens Guard, actually answers personally to the Queen of England (So the Queen of England becomes this sort of M-in-James-Bond type figure on top of being the Queen of England).
I could go on and on about this stuff, but I actually want to get this long-delayed post done. So, I’m going to say that if anyone wants to hear more about this stuff, mention it in the comments or whatever. It may even be something I return to with other posts, as you can tell it’s something I’m passionate about… but for now, All of this was really just a preamble to me posting some more of my writing up here. Here you will the results of me being inspired enough by the aforementioned games that I actually wrote a little story snippet about this version of Robin Hood that I made (if you want anymore details about the story itself, feel free to comment on that as well — as I’m sure some details a crystal clear to me, but wouldn’t be to you… I will say this though, a “Mariana” is mentioned: she is the daughter of Robin Hood, presumably by Maid Marion):
{Commencing short story snippet ***Be warned, the language gets pretty salty***:}
“Ian, I need to speak with you…” he spoke as he was entering the court, which was all but empty save for Nottingham.
“Oh, Hob,” Nottingham said surprised to see Robin, “Admiral Britannia said you were going to be in Sherwood today. Did you hear that Nottingham University is going to add a new field of literature…”
“I don’t give a damn about that right now…” Robin cut him off, “I need to speak with you about this little project of yours – the Saint George.”
At that, Nottingham faltered, quickly recovering, “Hob, I don’t know what you’re talking…”
Once again Hood cut him off “ ‘Steeth you don’t, you son of a bitch!”
“Wait, how did you know?”
“Don’t be so surprised, Ian” Robin spoke, fuming, “My associates in Tampa Bay said they came across box containing…”
“Hob, I could court marshall you for bringing this up in a public forum.”
“I’m not finished, Ian! I wanted to know what you were up to, so I broke into your office…”
“Christ, Hob!”
“I saw the papers, Ian. Explain yourself.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Eventually Nottingham broke it, “Look Hob, I…” before he could finish, Robin clenched his fist and punched him in the eye.
“I had that coming. I understand, but…” again, before Nottingham could finish, Robin swung again. This time, Nottingham ducked the punch, “Hob, listen, I’m trying to tell you…”
“How could you?” Robin swung a third time, but this time Nottingham caught the punch, then returned with a chop to Hood’s throat. Robin staggered back, and paused to gasp for air.
Nottingham, now clutching his swelling eye, spoke “God damn it, Robin! I’m trying to tell you it wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
Robin, finally catching his breath, retorted, “The hell it wasn’t! You always wanted her back.”
“Rob, the project was failing and…”
“Did you even think about…”
“You?” Nottingham cut him off, starting to lose his patience, “No, I felt you’d have that covered.”
Hood recoiled a step, “…And what about Mariana? This could…”
“It was her idea, you bastard. Did you even talk to her about it?”
“I’m her father. I know what’s…” Robin faltered, “You had no right.”
At that, Nottingham lost what little cool he had left, “I had no right?! No right?! Listen here, you self-righteous prick. Mariana came to me when she saw the project wasn’t working. She said she had a solution. Her studies in genetics led her to a candidate she was sure would work.”
“And when you found out who it was, you were only too happy to accept.”
“No, Gods damn it. I loved her too. I told Mariana it was a bad idea.”
“Like hell! You wanted her back. You always resented that she chose me.”
“Fuck you, Hob.” Nottingham turned, starting to make his way out of the court.
“You could never accept that she wanted to be with me! And now you’re bringing her back, just to prove a point. You just want to get even, you son of a bitch! You’ve got no right!”
At that Nottingham stopped, quivering with rage, “ Alright Hob, you want a fight? You’ve got it.”
Turning around, he continued, “No right? I had every right, you bloody cunt! I fought for law and order at home every second of every day while Richard was gone – playing at war. I kept what little order could be had while that bastard John was raping everything he could out of the country – and if it weren’t for me, he’d’ve been doing the same to the woman who became your wife.”
Incensed, Robin charged, “Bastard!” the first punch missed as Nottingham dodged.
“And then you came back,” Nottingham continued as he caught Robin with his knee and grabbed around his back to pin him in place, “with your dashing roguery,” hitting Robin again with his knee, “and swept her off her feet.”
Hood shook Nottingham off, “I was saving the people,” Robin landed an uppercut, busting Nottingham’s lip and causing him to stagger back, “from a dictator you were powerless to stop.”
“I didn’t need your help,” Nottingham feinted left, then connected with his right, breaking Robin’s nose, “and I didn’t need you to take her away from me, and I didn’t need you to get her killed!”
“Marion chose me, you idiot!” as he shouted, Hood unsheathed his sword. In a simultaneous action, Nottingham drew the gun at his hip. Both at the others throat, they panted, waiting for the other’s next move.
“Ahem,” came a small voice from the entryway to the court. In walked the Queen, who had been walking down the hallway, deep in discussion with Admiral Britannia. At the sight of the Queen, both turned away, full of shame.
“I am not amused,” she said, walking down the carpet leading to the throne. She gave a signal to Admiral Britannia that their discussion would continue later as she proceeded.
“Yes, Mum.” the two responded, still sheepishly looking down.
“You are to explain yourselves immediately,” she said sternly, “Nottingham?”
Nottingham paused for a moment. As he looked at the Queen, his black-eye and cut lip were already beginning to heal themselves, leaving only a few drops of blood on his lip, “…Sir Locksley and I were having a fundamental disagreement regarding the continuance of the Saint George, Mum,” as he mentioned Locksley, the sickening noise of Hood pushing his nose back into place could be heard.
“I have approved of Nottingham’s supervision of the Saint George program, Locksley… What is your objection?”
“The primary subject, Mum.” Hood spoke after sniffing in a drop of blood that was trickling out of his also already healing nostril.
“I was unaware that The Saint George had progressed to that point” she spoke to Nottingham, expecting an answer.
“Yes, Mum. I was coming here to inform you of that when Sir Locksley and I…”
“…began brawling like schoolyard children?” the Queen offered.
“Yes,” Nottingham replied, looking back to the ground.
“It does not surprise me that Locksley has discovered this intelligence before you had the chance to inform me,” at this she looked back to Hood, “You have an aggravating way of… obtaining hidden information.”
“Yes, Mum” was all Hood’s reply before he too looked back to the floor.
“Well, I am curious to know… What is the basis for this courtly unrest?” at this, she waited. After a sufficient pause, she added, “Locksley?”
“The primary subject is… is…” unable to finish his statement as intended, he stated, “unacceptable.”
“I see. Nottingham, if you will be so kind as to finish with your original undertaking and inform me of the identity of this newly established primary subject.”
He brought his gaze back to her and began, “Mum, the project was taking a down-turn when… It was brought to my attention that a prime candidate could be introduced with positive results. Upon that advisory, I made the decision to commence the program with said subject.”
“And this subject is…” the Queen replied, beginning to lose her patience.
“…Marion Fitzrobert” Nottingham spoke after pausing, with a seeming pain.
“Oh,” the Queen responded, somewhat stymied. After recovering, she continued, “And the program has commenced?”
“Yes, Mum.”
There was a long pause. The Queen deliberated, resolved, then spoke directly to Hood, “Locksley…”, she stopped and more sensitively continued, “Robin… As a matter of unquestionable national importance, I cannot halt the Saint George program. I am truly sorry.”
“Yes, Mum.” Hood replied, somewhat less firmly than he intended.
“Nottingham, your lack of sensitivity, as well as failure to keep me abreast of these developments will not be without consequences. However, due to the necessity the Saint George program, your punishment will be suspended until a time I see fit,” she spoke with a very severe tone.
“Yes, Mum.”
Unexpectedly, a thought came to the Queen, “Is Mariana aware of this development?”
“It… was her expertise and advisory with which I made the decision to commence” Nottingham responded.
“Interesting…” the Queen replied, “I shall need to speak to her, and you, as soon as possible, in private.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“… Your Majesty,” Hood spoke sullenly, after a great pause, “I apologize for my breach in decorum, in both this matter and in my next actions, but… in light of recent circumstances…” he began to proceed haltingly, his voice wavering as he spoke, “I would like to request a leave of absence.”
“Indeed. Your unconventional request is accepted, provided we are informed of your date of departure within twenty-four hours, and your return in…” she deliberately left space for him to reply.
“Not necessary Mum, I shall be leaving within the hour and will be keeping your Majesty and Mariana informed of my location weekly.”
“Duly noted,” she spoke matter-of-factly, and began to exit the court with Nottingham. Before making the final steps out, she turned back and spoke again in uncharacteristic sensitivity, “Robin… Please, return soon.”
{End transmission}
I hope you found something enjoyable in there,
~BK~
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