Cartoon Version / Realistic Version
Oct. 31st, 2021 10:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rix_scaeduSo, I wrote this to my Trope Bingo prompt “Cartoon Version / Realistic Version.” This is obviously another art prompt, but I am not a visual artist. I hope this 1,374 word piece is coherent and that you find it entertaining.
For contract reasons Red Zebra Comics sent Heavy Weight a blown-up copy of a comic cover once a year. Usually, it had their comic version of him on the cover except, of course, for the years that they weren't running a Heavy Weight comic. One of those years had provided the artist and colourist signed and numbered copy of the cover art for the first issue of The Vermilion Queen's Return which sat behind UV blocking plexiglass on Heavy Weight's office wall. Facing it on the opposite wall was this year's cover showing a young, buff-bodied Heavy Weight in the iconic suit the cartoon version of the hero had worn for thirty-five years wrestling with two female naga. Red Zebra Comics had a target audience in mind for their current run of Heavy Weight comics and the artwork made it fairly clear what that audience was.
Dylan Miles was a new reporter at the popular culture website Hails of Our Lives, and when Heavy Weight had refused to do a Zoom interview, she had been sent out to see him in person. Right now, she and her accompanying photographer were seated on solidly good chairs opposite the superhero who was seated behind his desk. The desk was bare except for a biscuit-coloured ceramic vase that was decorated with either Chinese characters or Japanese kanji, and filled with pens and pencils. Heavy Weight, in the flesh, was a solidly built, heavily muscled man in his fifties. He had greeted them at the entrance to the gym that filled the floor below them and brought them up to his office via the 'scenic route' that had let them see the layout of the entire place. He'd offered them coffee or cold drinks, filled their requests, and gotten himself a rehydration drink.
"Thank you for seeing us, Mr Smith," began Dylan. "I've brought along our photographer," she indicated him, "Jasper Patrick so we can get some shots to illustrate the article."
"Ah, now. The thing isbefore we go any further," said Heavy Weight, sounding embarrassed. "That's why I asked you to come here in person. I can't let you publish any pictures of me. No photos, no sketches, nothing."
"If it's a matter of your security, sir," began Dylan.
Heavy Weight interrupted her, "No, it's not that. It's just that -." He took a deep breath, "I don't own the rights to my own image."
Dylan and Jasper just looked at him, not quite understanding.
"When I was a kid, when I started doing the superhero stuff, my father decided that he'd be my manager and make some money out of it." He shrugged. "I was fifteen. I had no say, didn't understand the half of what he was doing, and certainly had no control over him. My father also thought that he was smarter than everyone else around him. He cut a deal with Dan Merck at Red Zebra, back when they had an office in Strawberry Hills, and gave him permission to do a comic on me. My dad got paid five thousand dollars, which was an incredible amount of money to us back then, and Red Zebra got ownership and control of my image in perpetuity."
Jasper said flatly, "That is so messed up. So, if I take a picture of you, I own the copyright on it, but they can prevent me from publishing it or maybe even selling it."
"That's right," agreed Heavy Weight, then drank a quarter of the tall, orange coloured drink in his hand. "The legal advice I have is that I can't even let you put a picture of my back up on your website. I can't use a picture of myself to promote my own gym." He waved his hand around comprehensively. "A Zoom interview might have provided someone with too much temptation to take a screen shot and post it. Frankly, you seem like a nice bunch of people, Red Zebra Comic's legal team are a vicious bunch of piranhas, and I feel that you don't deserve to accidentally fall into their feeding pond."
"I understood that you have a congenial relationship with Red Zebra Comics," probed Dylan.
"The artists and the writers are mostly fine," replied Heavy Weight. "Good folks. Except for that one guy back in '95 who kept wanting to take people to go and poke around in the Belanglo State Forest. He was...weird. Other than him, the legal team will happily eat you alive and the Mercks are-." He paused, then said, "I personally do not care for the senior Mercks. The younger ones, Rod and Terry, seem to have decent business ethics. The ones my age are a mixed bag. Dan tainted my view of the family for years. On the other hand, I can only say good things about their charity work."
"What about Dan's brother, Paul?" Dylan had pulled out a pad and pen and was scribbling notes in her lap.
"I've never had much to do with Paul," admitted Heavy Weight. "I knew Dan because my father made me come and shake hands with him when the contract was signed. I've met Leo and Gina because they work with the creative departments. Paul...." His voice trailed off and then he looked at them. "I'm not sure that the Paul I've met is the real and original one."
Dylan and Jasper looked at each other in confusion and then Dylan asked, "What do you mean?"
"Red Zebra has all the rights to any image allegedly of me and to the use of both my hero alias and my real name in their comics," replied Heavy Weight slowly, "but I'm the real me. I can see that they'd rather not have pictures of a fifty-year old with a family life out there confusing their comic brand. Plus, to be fair, I get to be anonymous in my everyday life unlike, say, Black Charis. Paul Merck has too many inconsistencies. He doesn't ring true. The rest of his family, particularly the ones his own age, act a little oddly around him. There is seriously something strange going on there. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice enough guy. I've heard no whispers, but if you speak to him for any length of time, there's something about his eyes and his voice -." Heavy Weight stopped talking.
After a few minutes Dylan and Jasper exchanged glances again and Dylan said cautiously, "Sir?"
Heavy Weight shook his head. "Sorry. Did you know that it's impossible to find a publicly available picture of Paul Merck from before 1975? Someone I used to know went looking for one just before he died. I told him lots of people didn't have photos out there, even now, but he said that there aren't even any school photos in the school archives anymore - and that his class’s is the only one missing in each year. Then Simon died and there was nothing suspicious, nothing provable. And there's something just not right about Paul Merck."
"Wait," Dylan put up a hand, the one holding her hand, in a pause gesture. "Simon Grace the investigative reporter was looking into Paul Merck before he died?" She caught their expressions and added, "He was covered in one of my journalism courses."
"I tell myself that he was looking into other things as well," replied Heavy Weight carefully.
"Yes, but his last investigation is supposed to be some big secret deal," said Dylan. "He never told his editor what it was."
Heavy Weight carefully put his drink down. "If you even think that those two things are connected and that you should investigate it, don't go running into it. Assume that the subject is booby trapped and act accordingly. Do all the pre-reading first, and do not go anywhere near Red Zebra Comics or the Mercks, any of them, without legal backup and being sure of your facts. When Simon died, I lost a friend, and I don't want find out I've sent anyone down a rabbit hole that leads to their death." He took a deep breath. "Perhaps we should get back to the interview you came for?"
"Yes," said Jasper Patrick, a nephew of Simon Grace, "perhaps we should."
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Date: 2021-11-05 05:18 pm (UTC)(The serious comment is that I am reliably impressed by how, in so few words, you can make me care about the cliffhanger and want to know what's going on / what happens next.)
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Date: 2021-11-05 08:55 pm (UTC)