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Nexus 100 Yellow, Teammates, She
Several more for the Nexus 100, table tomorrow as I have a bad headache tonight and haven't been at the computer all day.
Title: Sunlight on Mountains
Fandom: The Shadow
Characters: The Shadow, Tibetan monks
Prompt: 013 Yellow
Word Count: 212
Rating: G
Summary: A moment from The Shadow’s earlier life
Author's Notes: Gibson was slightly vague on exactly where and how The Shadow learned in ‘the Orient’, possibly from unfamiliarity with that part of the world. While the movie was more closely in line with the radio version of the character, I appreciate that glimpse of the temple at the beginning.
Saffron, they called it, a deep yellow that bordered on orange. The young priests shone like fragments of the sun against the muted tones of their rocky world. As a foreigner, he mostly kept apart from the other students. The older priests accepted him because the Tulku did, and recognized the necessity for teaching him to harness his own mind, but he could not be grouped with the young initiates of his own level. From a distance he watched them, bald-headed boys of ten or eleven, already masters of the practices he struggled to comprehend through his American background. By the time they were his age, they would be on a path of greater knowledge than he would ever attain. As much as there was to learn here, already he knew the lamasery could not hold him any more than anything else ever had. Someday, soon, he’d be driven by his own impulses to travel again. His path was just as long, but it would take him wandering across the world in body as well as spirit. This peaceful world of rock and cloud, of snow and the sound of bells, would too quickly become a cage.
He watched the saffron-robed boys, and struggled to school the envy out of his heart.
Title: The Shadow works alone
Fandom: The Shadow
Characters: The Shadow (allusions to Doc Savage, Batman, agents)
Prompt: 026 Teammates
Word Count: 314
Rating: G
Summary: Reminiscence
Author's Notes: I’d intended a tangent, but decided I prefer the symmetry of it as it is now.
It was a well-known fact to the underworld that The Shadow always worked alone.
Like so many ‘well-known facts’, it was not entirely accurate. The Shadow himself freely admitted the success of his operations often depended on the vast network of agents in his employ. Every sacrifice and pivotal role they played was carefully recorded in his private files, and never forgotten. All the same their place was separate from him, that of service rather than camaraderie. When the moment came of supreme danger, or the responsibility of dealing harsh justice, The Shadow preferred to take that place alone. His distance from his agents was in part a way of protecting them.
Over the years The Shadow had worked side by side with other vigilantes. In the catalogue of his adventures were included a few that had put him working with Clark Savage, or a promising young man by the name of Bruce Wayne. These had, for the most part, been partnerships of necessity or at least convenience. The allegiances were tenuous and brief. The worst part of working with an equal was that they were an equal. There were moments he was expected to bow to their methods, their priorities. Whatever lesson he had learned had been unwanted, and it aggravated him to have the sometimes harshness of his approach thrown into sharp relief. Whatever the rewards of these partnerships, he was glad when they were over. His work was easier when he was in full control.
Yet there were moments, in the depths of a setback, when he found himself struggling injured and alone from some trap. There were moments when the only resources available were his own, and he feared they might not be enough. There were moments when he wished for some ally on whom he could rely, but it was a well-known fact that The Shadow always worked alone.
Title: Margot Pain
Fandom: The Shadow
Characters: The Shadow, Margot Lane
Prompt: 085 She
Word Count: 142
Rating: G
Summary: The Shadow’s chauvinism is showing.
Author's Notes: I’ll admit it, this one was inspired by Myra Reldon’s player posting a rant about Margot Lane. For those who don’t know the history, she was created for the radio show and later brought into the pulps only under duress. Walter Gibson made her a thorn in the Shadow’s side to echo his own feelings on having to write her in. She became an agent in later stories, but always a very bumbling one.
At the first trilling call of the name of Lamont, he knew she was going to be trouble. While he was not immune to the appeal of women, he had long ago immersed himself so deeply in his work that a monastic lifestyle was not hard to bear. He was highly selective of his chosen company, and nearly all of his agents were men. This was not only because their positions in society were more useful, although had he been questioned on the matter it’s the answer he would have given. There were women he had no trouble with, or even admired, but they were regrettably few.
They were also very reliably not the sort to associate with Lamont Cranston. Even among these, Margot Lane was one for the books, one he would never forget, but he often desperately wished he could.
Title: Sunlight on Mountains
Fandom: The Shadow
Characters: The Shadow, Tibetan monks
Prompt: 013 Yellow
Word Count: 212
Rating: G
Summary: A moment from The Shadow’s earlier life
Author's Notes: Gibson was slightly vague on exactly where and how The Shadow learned in ‘the Orient’, possibly from unfamiliarity with that part of the world. While the movie was more closely in line with the radio version of the character, I appreciate that glimpse of the temple at the beginning.
Saffron, they called it, a deep yellow that bordered on orange. The young priests shone like fragments of the sun against the muted tones of their rocky world. As a foreigner, he mostly kept apart from the other students. The older priests accepted him because the Tulku did, and recognized the necessity for teaching him to harness his own mind, but he could not be grouped with the young initiates of his own level. From a distance he watched them, bald-headed boys of ten or eleven, already masters of the practices he struggled to comprehend through his American background. By the time they were his age, they would be on a path of greater knowledge than he would ever attain. As much as there was to learn here, already he knew the lamasery could not hold him any more than anything else ever had. Someday, soon, he’d be driven by his own impulses to travel again. His path was just as long, but it would take him wandering across the world in body as well as spirit. This peaceful world of rock and cloud, of snow and the sound of bells, would too quickly become a cage.
He watched the saffron-robed boys, and struggled to school the envy out of his heart.
Title: The Shadow works alone
Fandom: The Shadow
Characters: The Shadow (allusions to Doc Savage, Batman, agents)
Prompt: 026 Teammates
Word Count: 314
Rating: G
Summary: Reminiscence
Author's Notes: I’d intended a tangent, but decided I prefer the symmetry of it as it is now.
It was a well-known fact to the underworld that The Shadow always worked alone.
Like so many ‘well-known facts’, it was not entirely accurate. The Shadow himself freely admitted the success of his operations often depended on the vast network of agents in his employ. Every sacrifice and pivotal role they played was carefully recorded in his private files, and never forgotten. All the same their place was separate from him, that of service rather than camaraderie. When the moment came of supreme danger, or the responsibility of dealing harsh justice, The Shadow preferred to take that place alone. His distance from his agents was in part a way of protecting them.
Over the years The Shadow had worked side by side with other vigilantes. In the catalogue of his adventures were included a few that had put him working with Clark Savage, or a promising young man by the name of Bruce Wayne. These had, for the most part, been partnerships of necessity or at least convenience. The allegiances were tenuous and brief. The worst part of working with an equal was that they were an equal. There were moments he was expected to bow to their methods, their priorities. Whatever lesson he had learned had been unwanted, and it aggravated him to have the sometimes harshness of his approach thrown into sharp relief. Whatever the rewards of these partnerships, he was glad when they were over. His work was easier when he was in full control.
Yet there were moments, in the depths of a setback, when he found himself struggling injured and alone from some trap. There were moments when the only resources available were his own, and he feared they might not be enough. There were moments when he wished for some ally on whom he could rely, but it was a well-known fact that The Shadow always worked alone.
Title: Margot Pain
Fandom: The Shadow
Characters: The Shadow, Margot Lane
Prompt: 085 She
Word Count: 142
Rating: G
Summary: The Shadow’s chauvinism is showing.
Author's Notes: I’ll admit it, this one was inspired by Myra Reldon’s player posting a rant about Margot Lane. For those who don’t know the history, she was created for the radio show and later brought into the pulps only under duress. Walter Gibson made her a thorn in the Shadow’s side to echo his own feelings on having to write her in. She became an agent in later stories, but always a very bumbling one.
At the first trilling call of the name of Lamont, he knew she was going to be trouble. While he was not immune to the appeal of women, he had long ago immersed himself so deeply in his work that a monastic lifestyle was not hard to bear. He was highly selective of his chosen company, and nearly all of his agents were men. This was not only because their positions in society were more useful, although had he been questioned on the matter it’s the answer he would have given. There were women he had no trouble with, or even admired, but they were regrettably few.
They were also very reliably not the sort to associate with Lamont Cranston. Even among these, Margot Lane was one for the books, one he would never forget, but he often desperately wished he could.