nice Metroid comic! i would love to see your take on Starfox.
Thanks!
Okay so while I LOVE Star Fox and would love to do something with it, (and have done things with it sort of, more on that later) I decided not to ever touch it directly. In part of course because I'm trying to slowly move away from fanfic, but mostly because I don't think I could make a 'definitive edition'.
With Metroid I had my own unique vision for the setting and the character that I'd never seen anybody else pursue in the same directions, and I personally prefer my versions above both canon and every fanon I've read. (With the possible exception of NickOnPlanetRipple, who made an EXCELLENT comic called Metroid Revival. While I personally prefer my own work, and we went in radically different directions in terms of plot/setting/tone, I respect his work a ton). If Nintendo miraculously gave me the directorial position on some Metroid property, I could accept the position knowing that I could do a darn good job, and do something with it that nobody else could.
The same cannot be said of Star Fox. While I do have ideas for the characters, spaceships, and post-war future of the story, I don't have nearly as much to add, and I could never make my favorite version of Star Fox because the beating heart of the franchise is the characters, and Matthew Gafford already did it WAY better than I ever could with them in his youtube animated series A Fox In Space. If I dabbled in Star Fox, I would just end up comparing myself to him and I know I could never top that. If Nintendo gave me any authority over Star Fox, I couldn't accept. He deserves that job. I might be able to put my own spin on some aspects, but not all of it.
HOWEVER.
One of the original novels I'm working on is actually directly inspired by Star Fox, and by some ideas me and my brothers had about what became of the team after the war concluded. None of the characters bear much resemblance to the originals (and they're not animals), but if you squint hard enough you can sometimes see who was who before I de-fanned the fiction, and I like it so far, especially the direction I took Krystal's stand-in.
In terms of what I've done with Star Fox itself, I'm afraid all I I can give you is this, which I drew like ten years ago:
"But fortresses are also placed up high, with views for days and Napa Valley wine farms don't usually come with security patrols and electric fencing and five stories of underground bunker."
This is just the most interesting bouquet! 🌷💛🌿 When I’m writing, I love surrounding myself with beautiful, thought-provoking things, like flowers or quotes, like this one from Mai Der Vang’s poetry collection, AFTERLAND, which I’ve collected in my journal: “I go to funerals to meet the ancients.” 💙 . How do you fuel your creativity? ☀️ . . . #tracichee #author #authorsofinstagram #writersofinstagram #writer #writersofig #writerslife #flowers #floral #creativity #quotes #maidervang
When I make the crossing, you must not be taken no matter what
the current gives. When we reach the camp,
there will be thousands like us.
If I make it onto the plane, you must follow me to the roads
and waiting pastures of America.
We will not ride the water today on the shoulders of buffalo
as we used to many years ago, nor will we forage
for the sweetest mangoes.
I am refugee. You are too. Cry, but do not weep.
—from “Transmigration”
Mai Der Vang, Afterland, 2017 National Book Foundation Longlist Poet
Do you think of the American returning
to the coffee cup,
new linens
in a warm bed,
pulling into the driveway.
Sorry about your mountains,
they say …
Do you picture him reading
the morning paper,
turning on the nightly news…
excerpt from Afterland by Mai Der Vang, reviewed by Jenna Lê
One of the people involved in designing this ship had apparently been a unique and revolutionary genius: the dance club had been installed almost directly above the starboard gravity RCS, and they'd run an intercom directly from the bar to the alignment control station on the bridge. So all the bartender had to do was call and ask nicely, and they would charge the dynamo up to about 5% power, lowering the club's gravity to the point where any species, even those without legs or the muscles to jump, could have a truly outrageous time. This did, of course, slightly increase the number of accidents and injuries on the dance floor and the immediate vicinity, but the clubgoers seemed to weigh this a reasonable tradeoff, and most nights ended with the bruises and spilled drinks outnumbered by the smiles.
For some reason though, Marshal suspected that the punch splashed all over Dunkalk's sullen face had been no accident. "Rejected again, huh?"
"At least she was frank about it." Dunkalk reached his mandibles up like windshield wipers to flick the liquid off his eyes. "I'll get the next one. You watch."
"Oh, I will." Marshal fished around his pockets for a hanky, and handed it over. "Need a wingman this time?"
"No, either they're into it or they're not." Dunkalk wiped around the base of his shell. "No middle ground worth mucking about in."
"Right..." Marshal pondered this for a moment. "So, Dunkalk, I have an genuine question for you."
"You should probably ask it then."
"I might."
"You should."
"I will."
"Fire away."
"WHY." Marshal pleaded. "Why why why do you always go after the human ladies, Dunkalk?"
"What?!?" Dunkalk sneezed in indignation. A little puff of dust escaped from his gills. "Why do you go after human ladies?"
"I AM a human! What's your excuse?"
"The answer to your question is threefold if not more." Dunkalk held up three claws on his left shovel. "Number one: they're soft."
"Agreed." Marshal nodded.
"Number two: they're tall."
"They are NOT."
"Human males are ridiculous giants; your perspective is skewed and invalid."
"Fair. So you like the tall ladies."
"I love the tall ladies. Number three: they're kinky."
"They are?"
"Yes."
"Kinkier than Kolokon women?"
"Not at all. BUT. The 8-12% of eligible human women willing to go out with a Kolokon will necesssarily be kinkier than the mean average. It's called the great filter, you can look it up."
"Let's cruise right on past the part where you break that down, so anyway do you actually... I don't know, like them better??"
"Yes? As I said?"
"I mean, if you were born 1500 years ago you wouldn't even know what you're missing. Wouldn't Kolokon women be more, you know, attractive to a natural and healthy mind?"
"What parts of 'em?"
"I don't know, the claspers and the cavity?"
"Do you find claspers and cavies attractive?"
"Well, with a few notable exceptions, generally no! Which is because I am a human, which is exactly my point, and the reason I'm confused why you would find lips and external teats attractive."
"Short answer: I have no idea." Dunkalk admitted. "Almost as short answer: I blame Kelsey Spencer in 8th grade, it's 100% all her fault. And also Bonnie Kirk and Sai Peng in 9th grade, even though I do recall that Sai Peng herself was actually a junior at the time. They did this to me. I lived in a society."
"Aha, mm-hmm. I see how it is." Marshal nodded sympathetically. "The middle school years are instrumental in forming a man's sexuality. The word for you is a furry."
"Incorrect, in fact the fur is one thing I could do without."
"Oh yeah? You like the ladies bald? Bald and smooth?"
"Yeah. Well, n-"
"You've been courting human women for so long that I feel bad introducing you to the thing you've really been seeking this whole time: an octopus."
"Y-"
"A worm."
"If I c-"
"A plate of jello."
"If I could as-"
"Steaming plate of pasta."
"If I could ask God to make one change to human women, it would be to give them a bunch of tiny barnacles instead of body hair, and some segmented plates down their scalp and neck and back. I think I would die. It would be the ideal lifeform."
"Cool."
"I would go blind from the beauty."
"That's great, Dunkalk."
"You get where I'm coming from though, right?"
"A standpoint of fantastical and perverted insanity."
"Yeah, you get it. Just Imagine it Marshal! Kelsey Spencer with a little texture."
"Nope!" Marshal turned up his nose. "I don't get it, I don't care to, you're crazy, I'm not. I think human ladies are fine just the way they are."
"No imagination."
"Could stare at one all day."
"Which one?"
"You pick one. It's called commitment."
"Ghastly."
"Don't you be dissin' the intended way."
"No imagination."
"So you'd give human women barnacles and a shell?"
"YES."
"Give her a cavity too?"
"Might look a little odd."
"We're already making a mockery of genetics and the periodic table, may as well go all in, right?"
"Okay, sure why not. Little cavity on her left side. Down low."
"Claspers?"
"Maybe."
"Shoveling claws?"
"Could take 'em or leave 'em."
"Do you like your ladies to have big wide sparkling eyes, or beady little human eyes?"
"Maybe a little bigger."
"So at this point you've managed to vaguely articulate what is essentially just a slightly taller Kolokon."
"Well if we rewind the conversation to before you started twisting my words, then no not at all."
"You could scuttle around on your knees so the normal ones look taller."
"Not the kink I want to filter for, unfortunately."
"You're one kinda guy, Dunkalk."
"Someone's gotta be." He took a long drink. "You know Marshal, I'm a human at heart. Always have been."
"Oh yeah? How's that?"
"I don't like it underground. Have you seen Brigg's quarters? Perfectly good bed, and she piles her laundry up underneath the mattress just so she can burrow under. And my mom did the same thing back when we had a human apartment. But me? Naw. I don't like the smell of dirt, I don't like the taste of worms, I like my veggies. I must be just about the tallest Kolokon on this ship, and I've got the calve strength to almost jump. When I was a kid I once climbed a tree. You know how many Kolokon starship pilots you see around? None. We all hate flying, but I prefer flying. I'm a human born and raised, Marshal. Capital-G made a typo, and here I am."
"You're just wired different."
"I'm wired like a human."
"Nuh-uh."
"Maaaan, you don't know what it means to be human because you are a human. You just think humans are normal."
"Humans are normal, same as Kolokons are. You'd just be different no matter what you are. You know most humans hate flying? And that most of them hate veggies? You sleeping in a hammock and you going after the kinky human ladies and you being the best pilot I've ever known isn't down to you being secretly human, that's just you personally and individually being a freaky little weirdo is all."
"You think so?"
"Yeah, man."
"Never thought of it that way."
They stood for a moment to watch the dancers. Dunkalk finished off the last of his drink, and crushed the can in one claw. "So anyway, back to the subject, why do you ask?"
"I dunno." Marshal took a drink as well. "I guess I want to see you happy."
"I am happy."
"It's just that your 'great filter' does a fine job of filtering out the decent respectable ladies, is all."
"I know."
"The ones that want a decent respectable guy. The ones that want to breathe your dust and have your kids."
"Ha! Me settle down." Dunkalk shook his head. "Can you picture that? Me down in some little old... Little dusty tunnel. Sanded shell, trimmed claws, helping some little screaming kid pupate..."
"You'd be a great dad."
"Being a dad is easy." Dunkalk chattered his mandibles together in annoyance. "I mean, mine scuffed it royally, but all you have to do is basically just be there and not kick at the larvae, it's not rocket science... Yeah, I could do it. I could do it well."
"You know, it could work out with the right human too. Remember professor Adams? He was always going off-topic in the middle of class to talk about his wife?"
"Yeah?"
"I saw him at the market one time, and she there, and she was this little Kolokon lady. Blind as a bat, and he wore this little leather guard on his wrist so she could hold on to him. They adopted like 3 kids."
"Yeah, there's an image." Dunkalk rolled his eyes. "But yeah, no. No. If I were to make a commitment, I'd take the time to do it right. I'd trim up my act, move back to the tunnels, go for some good respectable girl with a lumpy shell. You're right about all of it, Marshal, your only wrong part is thinking I want something that I don't. Maybe one day."
"Maybe one day."
"You'd be the first to know; you'd be helping me shop."
"I help you shop anyway..." Marshal took a casual look around. "Alright, don't look now, but I think that brunette to your 10 O'clock is giving you the eyes."
"Not interested." Dunkalk shook his head. "Blonde or nothing."
Well I learned a pretty important scifi lesson the hard way:
Make sure you decide how a ship's gravity is set up BEFORE you start writing scenes inside it. Is it a linear field from a wide pair of dipoles? Well then you better decide how far from the ship that field extends, because it's gonna mess up docking and EVA work something awful. Does the gravity all point toward a central point? The floors would have to be curved to feel straight, and the decks will be laid out in weird ways, straightness or no. Does the habitation section spin? If it does, then any scene in the cargo bay or engineering will be weightless. Does the whole ship spin? Have fun spinning the whole thing down every time you need to dock, you lunatics.
When writing Afterland, I made the mistake of designing the main ship after I started writing; it was a colonial ferry scrapped together out of older hardware, and I realized it would make more economical sense for them to just strap an old O'Neil cylinder (that spins) to its belly instead of going to all the trouble of building decks strong enough to handle linear gravity. And now I'm gonna have to redo a bunch of it because a few things just don't work the same.
