Jarl
2006-09-07, 03:06 AM
I was thinking about this the other night (and so many wonderful topics have started this way). The Shadow's relationship with DC can best be described as "Plagiaristic" (Batman, I'm looking at you), or "Barren". There hasn't been a Shadow book published since the movie tie-in.
Twelve years ago.
So, I figure, what with the DC universe reset again, now would be an excellent time to re-invent the Master of Darkness. I remembered the "Marvel: Life of Crime" topic a while back and wanted to do something like that for this.
So, reset the Shadow.
Kent Allard, Hispanic pilot in the United States Air Force, crashed deep in the desert during the second Gulf War. His aircraft was destroyed, and he only barely escaped with his life. As he wandered back to civilization, he became aware of the constant chittering of the Djinn, which Abdul Alhazred wrote of so chillingly in his Al Azif. What concerned Allard much more, however, was that the voices of endless despair and hunger came not from the horizon, or the endless blackness of infinity above him at night, but from within his very soul.
Kent was eventually picked up by a patrol a week after his crash, apparently suffering from severe dehydration and dementia. He was sent back to America to convalesce, and released months later with a clean bill of mental health.
But he didn't feel healthy.
As he walked the streets of his once beloved New York, Allard became increasingly aware that he could feel the thoughts and emotions and ambitions of those around him. The din was nigh unbearable. Worse were the urges he had. Urges to kill, to maim, to torture. Even stranger, he found that simply by willing it to be, he could affect people's minds.
Kent took a job as driver for infamous and eccentric billionaire playboy Lamont Cranston. Cranston offered Allard the job because he had been a footsoldier during Vietnam and knew the difficulties young veterans faced when suddenly thrust back into reality.
After witnessing a robbery at a convenience store, Allard chased down the criminal and beat him to within an inch of his life. Barely restraining himself, he dragged the crook to the nearest police station and left him on the curb, dashing off through the labyrinthine alleyways of the city in order to examine what he had done. To his horror, he found that his face had become more feral, more demonic in appearance. He began to realize that there was an evil presence in him. On that day, sitting in a dank alleyway with fresh blood on his driving gloves, he vowed to use his powers for good. to punish the wicked.
Is Walter Gibson rolling in his grave yet? No? Then let's keep going.
Kent donned a maracarbe disguise in order to pursue evil-doers. He wore his father's old trenchcoat and hat over a black turtleneck and crimson scarf. He found that he could cloud the minds of people around him, dissapearing completely save his shadow. He enveloped himself in darkness, working at night. His weapons of choice were the two nickel-plated .45 automatics belonging to his first victim/criminal capture. He also carried his army knife. But his most lethal weapons were his fists, honed to diamond strength by rigorous training he recieved in the armed forces, along with deadly martial arts techniques.
Those who prey on the innocent are no longer safe. The streets once belonged to the criminals and scum of New York, but no more. The streets now belong to one man. His trademark is the Laughter. A cackle seemingly released from the bloodstained lips of an ancient demon. May god have mercy on the criminal who crosses the Master of the Night, for he shall show none.
http://home.comcast.net/~jarl_the_radical/shadow_ledge.jpg
Who knows what Evil lurks in the hearts of Men?
The Shadow knows.
-Whaddya think? It's just a rough idea of what it would be like. Probably Margot Lane would start out as his therapist (I'd certainly expect someone like this to be in therapy) who eventually becomes embroiled in his growing spy network.
Twelve years ago.
So, I figure, what with the DC universe reset again, now would be an excellent time to re-invent the Master of Darkness. I remembered the "Marvel: Life of Crime" topic a while back and wanted to do something like that for this.
So, reset the Shadow.
Kent Allard, Hispanic pilot in the United States Air Force, crashed deep in the desert during the second Gulf War. His aircraft was destroyed, and he only barely escaped with his life. As he wandered back to civilization, he became aware of the constant chittering of the Djinn, which Abdul Alhazred wrote of so chillingly in his Al Azif. What concerned Allard much more, however, was that the voices of endless despair and hunger came not from the horizon, or the endless blackness of infinity above him at night, but from within his very soul.
Kent was eventually picked up by a patrol a week after his crash, apparently suffering from severe dehydration and dementia. He was sent back to America to convalesce, and released months later with a clean bill of mental health.
But he didn't feel healthy.
As he walked the streets of his once beloved New York, Allard became increasingly aware that he could feel the thoughts and emotions and ambitions of those around him. The din was nigh unbearable. Worse were the urges he had. Urges to kill, to maim, to torture. Even stranger, he found that simply by willing it to be, he could affect people's minds.
Kent took a job as driver for infamous and eccentric billionaire playboy Lamont Cranston. Cranston offered Allard the job because he had been a footsoldier during Vietnam and knew the difficulties young veterans faced when suddenly thrust back into reality.
After witnessing a robbery at a convenience store, Allard chased down the criminal and beat him to within an inch of his life. Barely restraining himself, he dragged the crook to the nearest police station and left him on the curb, dashing off through the labyrinthine alleyways of the city in order to examine what he had done. To his horror, he found that his face had become more feral, more demonic in appearance. He began to realize that there was an evil presence in him. On that day, sitting in a dank alleyway with fresh blood on his driving gloves, he vowed to use his powers for good. to punish the wicked.
Is Walter Gibson rolling in his grave yet? No? Then let's keep going.
Kent donned a maracarbe disguise in order to pursue evil-doers. He wore his father's old trenchcoat and hat over a black turtleneck and crimson scarf. He found that he could cloud the minds of people around him, dissapearing completely save his shadow. He enveloped himself in darkness, working at night. His weapons of choice were the two nickel-plated .45 automatics belonging to his first victim/criminal capture. He also carried his army knife. But his most lethal weapons were his fists, honed to diamond strength by rigorous training he recieved in the armed forces, along with deadly martial arts techniques.
Those who prey on the innocent are no longer safe. The streets once belonged to the criminals and scum of New York, but no more. The streets now belong to one man. His trademark is the Laughter. A cackle seemingly released from the bloodstained lips of an ancient demon. May god have mercy on the criminal who crosses the Master of the Night, for he shall show none.
http://home.comcast.net/~jarl_the_radical/shadow_ledge.jpg
Who knows what Evil lurks in the hearts of Men?
The Shadow knows.
-Whaddya think? It's just a rough idea of what it would be like. Probably Margot Lane would start out as his therapist (I'd certainly expect someone like this to be in therapy) who eventually becomes embroiled in his growing spy network.