A New Superhero! - SUPER YOUTH
jonblondyn
Posts: 2
Hey guys,
My name is Jon Blondyn and I wanted to introduce myself to the forum by debuting a new Superhero I created. He's from my newly self-published eBook ~ OS. If you guys like Super Youth and want to read more, the first half of the Novel is available to read, entirely for free, on my website ~ blondyn.com
Here's an excerpt from the Novel ~ would love some feedback... Enjoy!
‘O my gosh, there he is!’
That’s what they say when they see him, zoomin’ way up there, with his black cape, all a-ripple through the Ozone Stratum; but who the heck is he?
His Bearing—Naïve. His Style—Sexy. His Costume has been described by the Press as ‘Austere,’—‘Peculiar,’—‘A Match to Zorro’s.’ Even his Super Sharp Sword—which he wields during Times, much less forgiving—has been the subject of countless a Social-Media Platform Escapade; but who the heck is he?
Like an iceberg—much about this character is shrouded in cold, Polar Mystery. All nonsense aside, his feats of Daring Heroic and Outlandish Brawn have gained him wide, critical acclaim. He is Super Youth—a World Class Stadium Status Superhero—who for better or worse, keeps an eagle eye out for the Salvation of Mankind...
He was flying high over the World—the radar of his mental acumen, a-whirr—when he spotted a severe, weather system, at brew over Finland.
‘Always trouble in Finland,’ Super Youth quoted, Off The Record. ‘Better swoop in and check it out.’
Irrepressible as ever, he flapped his cape with lithe wave...
Super Youth boomed as a nuclear blast! In Zoom, he rampaged through the atmosphere, into a blizzard, jam-packed with Black and White Static, As Seen On TV. Having pulled the Super Sharp Sword from its scabbard, he cut through the chaotic mess of snow bits in effort to avenge the very essence of tranquility.
‘Lo and Behold—what’s this?’
Amidst the storm, Super Youth observed a light that blinked via procession that was all much too familiar. The beacon clearly relayed an ‘S-O-S’ signal. Only vaguely did the glow of the lantern outline a rotund silhouette about the person who communicated the emergency.
‘An Eskimo in distress...’ Super Youth hypothesized.
With a bolt of blazing bolt, he flew for the scene.
‘I seen it all too many times before,’ he started, and then proceeded to narrate the scenario he envisioned.
‘A lone Eskimo, out there, on a Frozen Lake. He was having a leisurely day of ice-fishing. Maybe caught one too many Rainbow Trout; maybe ate one too many Snow Cones; in either case, doesn’t matter. A Blizzard just showed up outta nowhere—the kind of thing that happens in Finland; this Eskimo was unprepared. Wasn’t long before the storm was so thick, he couldn’t spy the land. O sure, it woulda been nice to simply walk off the Frozen Lake, but he had drilled four thousand holes in the ice that day, and found himself surrounded by sheer abominable freeze. Rather than risk it, he reached for the Kerosene Lantern...’
Super Youth made headway through the base of the blizzard, as his eyes kept to the flashing beacon.
‘Just hang tight, you Eskimo...’ he said. ‘I’ll scoop ya.’
The storm cleared just as Super Youth touched down in the snow, right aside the Eskimo.
It was a beautiful morning. Song Birds were chirping. Polar Bears were nuzzling their cubs. The scene appeared just about Kosher, and then the Eskimo stepped aside.
Turned out a good-for-nothin’ Penguin had belly-slid down a slope and accidentally crashed into this Eskimo’s Igloo. The Penguin was just fine, the Eskimo explained, but he wanted to see if Super Youth would lend a hand and help him patch the Igloo.
Super Youth scraped the sleet off his cape.
‘It doesn’t really fit the job description,’ he confessed, ‘But if it will help you sleep at night...’
Super Youth stuck out a hand, and after a firm shake of that cold little mitt, the two of them bandied about which course of action to expedite.
By fire of a Pot-Bellied Stove, the Eskimo stirred a cauldron of Homemade Dark Hot Chocolate, while Super Youth delivered shovelfuls of snow that he attentively shaped and seamlessly packed into the damaged Igloo Wall. By evening, their work was finished.
‘Now this, is one insulated little cranny,’ said Super Youth, satisfied at a job well done.
He had hardly set down the shovel, when a flock of twelve Penguins—allured by the aroma of Dark Hot Chocolate—waddled right through the open door. Though confounded, Super Youth kept perfect composure as they fixed themselves a seat around the table. As the Eskimo proceeded to ladle each of them a large, steamy mug, Super Youth patted him on the back.
‘Pray-Tell, keep your friends close...’ he confided, ‘But watch out for these Penguins.’
With that, he flew out the door and into the Eastern Night of a scenic Aurora Borealis.
In Zoom to the next Adventure—and a little chilly—he set his bearings for the Equator. Around Noon, as he soared along a low-altitude, Super Youth spotted a luxurious little island, set in the Heart of the Pacific.
‘Well I’ll be...’ he declared. ‘That looks like Bora Bora.’
It was as he kept a lookout for signs of shipwreck, beached whales and such, that Super Youth became distracted by the gorgeous coast, where a hammock swung between two King Palms with him upon it.
‘It just happened,’ he admitted to himself, innocently enough.
He swayed there in the Sun and sipped a coconut from a straw, when all a sudden, down from the surrounding Banana Trees, the Paparazzi jumped him.
‘Good God,’ he said, truly flabbergasted. ‘A Setup.’
When one stepped up and offered him a spoon, he accepted. Before he had a chance to scoop out some coconut meat, another handed him the Tabloids. The pages felt hot off the press, as he shook his head at the infamous picture that had already made Front Page News.
‘Shoulda seen it,’ he confessed. ‘n00bish. R00kie. Most undeft doin’ I’ve done.’
Meanwhile, the Paparazzi were taking calls, snapping pix, filming shorts, pitching snippets, each and all them—On Standby—egging him on to make a Statement, in between.
Finished with his coconut, Super Youth unswung himself from the hammock and started to reattach his cape.
‘So you caught me,’ he announced, On The Record. ‘And where were you guys when I was bustin’ my back packin’ snow blocks?’
When lo—Super Youth’s 20-20 X-Ray Photographic Vision reached across the Pacific, to where he espied a Damsel—way over in America—held in the tyrannical grip of King Kong who was climbin’ up the Statue of Liberty!
My name is Jon Blondyn and I wanted to introduce myself to the forum by debuting a new Superhero I created. He's from my newly self-published eBook ~ OS. If you guys like Super Youth and want to read more, the first half of the Novel is available to read, entirely for free, on my website ~ blondyn.com
Here's an excerpt from the Novel ~ would love some feedback... Enjoy!
‘O my gosh, there he is!’
That’s what they say when they see him, zoomin’ way up there, with his black cape, all a-ripple through the Ozone Stratum; but who the heck is he?
His Bearing—Naïve. His Style—Sexy. His Costume has been described by the Press as ‘Austere,’—‘Peculiar,’—‘A Match to Zorro’s.’ Even his Super Sharp Sword—which he wields during Times, much less forgiving—has been the subject of countless a Social-Media Platform Escapade; but who the heck is he?
Like an iceberg—much about this character is shrouded in cold, Polar Mystery. All nonsense aside, his feats of Daring Heroic and Outlandish Brawn have gained him wide, critical acclaim. He is Super Youth—a World Class Stadium Status Superhero—who for better or worse, keeps an eagle eye out for the Salvation of Mankind...
He was flying high over the World—the radar of his mental acumen, a-whirr—when he spotted a severe, weather system, at brew over Finland.
‘Always trouble in Finland,’ Super Youth quoted, Off The Record. ‘Better swoop in and check it out.’
Irrepressible as ever, he flapped his cape with lithe wave...
Super Youth boomed as a nuclear blast! In Zoom, he rampaged through the atmosphere, into a blizzard, jam-packed with Black and White Static, As Seen On TV. Having pulled the Super Sharp Sword from its scabbard, he cut through the chaotic mess of snow bits in effort to avenge the very essence of tranquility.
‘Lo and Behold—what’s this?’
Amidst the storm, Super Youth observed a light that blinked via procession that was all much too familiar. The beacon clearly relayed an ‘S-O-S’ signal. Only vaguely did the glow of the lantern outline a rotund silhouette about the person who communicated the emergency.
‘An Eskimo in distress...’ Super Youth hypothesized.
With a bolt of blazing bolt, he flew for the scene.
‘I seen it all too many times before,’ he started, and then proceeded to narrate the scenario he envisioned.
‘A lone Eskimo, out there, on a Frozen Lake. He was having a leisurely day of ice-fishing. Maybe caught one too many Rainbow Trout; maybe ate one too many Snow Cones; in either case, doesn’t matter. A Blizzard just showed up outta nowhere—the kind of thing that happens in Finland; this Eskimo was unprepared. Wasn’t long before the storm was so thick, he couldn’t spy the land. O sure, it woulda been nice to simply walk off the Frozen Lake, but he had drilled four thousand holes in the ice that day, and found himself surrounded by sheer abominable freeze. Rather than risk it, he reached for the Kerosene Lantern...’
Super Youth made headway through the base of the blizzard, as his eyes kept to the flashing beacon.
‘Just hang tight, you Eskimo...’ he said. ‘I’ll scoop ya.’
The storm cleared just as Super Youth touched down in the snow, right aside the Eskimo.
It was a beautiful morning. Song Birds were chirping. Polar Bears were nuzzling their cubs. The scene appeared just about Kosher, and then the Eskimo stepped aside.
Turned out a good-for-nothin’ Penguin had belly-slid down a slope and accidentally crashed into this Eskimo’s Igloo. The Penguin was just fine, the Eskimo explained, but he wanted to see if Super Youth would lend a hand and help him patch the Igloo.
Super Youth scraped the sleet off his cape.
‘It doesn’t really fit the job description,’ he confessed, ‘But if it will help you sleep at night...’
Super Youth stuck out a hand, and after a firm shake of that cold little mitt, the two of them bandied about which course of action to expedite.
By fire of a Pot-Bellied Stove, the Eskimo stirred a cauldron of Homemade Dark Hot Chocolate, while Super Youth delivered shovelfuls of snow that he attentively shaped and seamlessly packed into the damaged Igloo Wall. By evening, their work was finished.
‘Now this, is one insulated little cranny,’ said Super Youth, satisfied at a job well done.
He had hardly set down the shovel, when a flock of twelve Penguins—allured by the aroma of Dark Hot Chocolate—waddled right through the open door. Though confounded, Super Youth kept perfect composure as they fixed themselves a seat around the table. As the Eskimo proceeded to ladle each of them a large, steamy mug, Super Youth patted him on the back.
‘Pray-Tell, keep your friends close...’ he confided, ‘But watch out for these Penguins.’
With that, he flew out the door and into the Eastern Night of a scenic Aurora Borealis.
In Zoom to the next Adventure—and a little chilly—he set his bearings for the Equator. Around Noon, as he soared along a low-altitude, Super Youth spotted a luxurious little island, set in the Heart of the Pacific.
‘Well I’ll be...’ he declared. ‘That looks like Bora Bora.’
It was as he kept a lookout for signs of shipwreck, beached whales and such, that Super Youth became distracted by the gorgeous coast, where a hammock swung between two King Palms with him upon it.
‘It just happened,’ he admitted to himself, innocently enough.
He swayed there in the Sun and sipped a coconut from a straw, when all a sudden, down from the surrounding Banana Trees, the Paparazzi jumped him.
‘Good God,’ he said, truly flabbergasted. ‘A Setup.’
When one stepped up and offered him a spoon, he accepted. Before he had a chance to scoop out some coconut meat, another handed him the Tabloids. The pages felt hot off the press, as he shook his head at the infamous picture that had already made Front Page News.
‘Shoulda seen it,’ he confessed. ‘n00bish. R00kie. Most undeft doin’ I’ve done.’
Meanwhile, the Paparazzi were taking calls, snapping pix, filming shorts, pitching snippets, each and all them—On Standby—egging him on to make a Statement, in between.
Finished with his coconut, Super Youth unswung himself from the hammock and started to reattach his cape.
‘So you caught me,’ he announced, On The Record. ‘And where were you guys when I was bustin’ my back packin’ snow blocks?’
When lo—Super Youth’s 20-20 X-Ray Photographic Vision reached across the Pacific, to where he espied a Damsel—way over in America—held in the tyrannical grip of King Kong who was climbin’ up the Statue of Liberty!
Comments
Having swiped his Super Sharp Sword out the sands, he exploded out the flash photography and darted overseas; the coconut, left a-spin in his wake.
In Zoom, Super Youth zipped along an arc from West Side to East. He had been flying for an ‘X’ amount of time along a North Heading, when amidst the crystal blue, Atlantic Ocean below him, he spotted his reflection. Though all in vain, he could not help but notice that he had the perfect body type for sky—astronautically dynamic—equipped for topping speeds non-clockable—
KAH-BLAM!
Like Kryptonite, the attracting hold of his reflection blindsided him from the Thugging Rain of King-Kong’s Monster Punch!
Profoundly deflected, Super Youth collided into Time’s Square. When he got to his feet, he cracked his knuckles and tried to sober up from the blow. Almost immediately, he found himself blighted with aspect of dizzied proportion.
‘What New World hath slinked upon us?’
Hoards of Information—vast streams of Big Data—were being broadcasted by ubiquitous Technology—the speakers, the screens, the robots...
‘Wait a second...’ started Super Youth. ‘Those aren’t Robots—Those are Human Beings—Human Beings, under the lull of Electricity’s Spell!’
Succumbed to the whims of their own devices, the people were apped beyond element—connected and tethered—engaged in all sorts of touch-screen goo-goo-gaa that had reduced their lives to user interface.
‘Turning to Cysts of the System!’ cried Super Youth. ‘I’ve GOT to do SOMETHING!’
Impossible as it was, he sought after a means to somehow dispel the overwhelmed gravity of the situation.
‘Think Super Youth—if only, Think!’
A memory dawned upon him—a recent recollection—something he noticed just before King Kong had knocked his block off. It was the Colossus Inscription of Timeless Significance, emblazoned long ago at the Statue of Liberty. The Lady’s Words, he feared, had been eclipsed and forgotten by the absorbed masses—
‘Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!’ cries she
With silent lips. ‘Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses, yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my Lamp beside the golden door!’
Super Youth gazed upon the Guiding Light of Lady Liberty while he fathomed and fashioned an idea. The time was ripe, he decided, to exploit his Super Sharp Sword’s Antenna-Tower capabilities.
‘Of the people, by the people, for the people!’
Amazingly, he siphoned all the wireless connectivity from their extensions, and channeled them wholly unto the Torch of the Statue. At the complete, mighty slash of his arm, their signals pinged to the Light. By power of the Word, their Technology—Illumined with Enlightening Lumen—upgraded one and all, unto an Awakening of Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.
A Celebration of New Realization—New Practice—New Freedom—paraded the streets. 4th of July Fireworks were fired through the daylight. Even King Kong marveled with exceeding marvel, beyond the dreary buzz of the planes, over the ocean waters, and upon his own Homeland for which he dreamt the Dream of America.
It was while the monkey’s mind was affixed with enchantment that Super Youth took advantage to swoop in and rescue the damsel from its hairy clutches.
Tyrannical Roar of the Beast resounded after them, as Super Youth soared with the honey, cradled in his arms. Together, they disappeared on high, beyond the ocean horizon. By light of the setting Sun, they arrived in Egypt.
‘My Lady,’ said Super Youth, who gracefully delivered her atop The Great Pyramid. ‘An Ancient Haven to befit your complexion.’
Into the heights of the Egyptian Evening, he unfurled some Aurora Borealis that he had formerly snatched out from Finland. It was by the waves of their airy color that he looked into the eyes of his Long Lost Love. How long it had been, he thought.
She said nothing, but brushed Super Youth’s bangs from his eyes. He was sure the Moment was about to be sealed with a Kiss. He had started to lean in, when the Weight upon his Heart was riddled with fantasies of a Rain Check and Bittersweet Light-Speed—
‘Later, Baby!’ said Super Youth, who In Zoom, took off for the States. ‘Gotta go save King Kong from America...’