#jack rider

[puppetwoman17]

The dc reporter verse is funny because what do you mean we have G. Gordon Godfrey, Jack Rider(Creeper), Vicki Vale in one corner and then in a whole other corner we’ve got Billy Batson? You can’t tell me they haven’t interacted.

[batmanfruitloops]

Yup me again, first another thank you for that art now my self indulgent question: can we get more info about jack/creeper please

You sure can!

There's a lot I could talk about, so I'll do what I can without spoiling stuff I want to be a surprise in the comics-

Jack has always had the same personality as he displays as the Creeper, the transformation just amplifies it and causes him to be a bit zaney. He's always been a talker and will go on non-stop for as long as anyone will listen, and he'll just keep going if he's on a topic he's writing for, or just really likes.

Of the people that will listen to him, Vera Sweet, the vivacious, (if not a bit self important) weathergirl of Wham-TV, is the most tolerant. They met when Jack first got a news segment, and since she didn't avoid him, he's clung to her ever since whenever he has stories to air.

Our Creeper's main inspirations are a Mandril monkey and cartoons, mainly Looney Tunes, so he's a bit more slapstick than usual.

Creeper's boxers change because I think that's funny, and that's literally just Jack's boxers. He's not really wearing a costume, he just takes off the rest of his clothes and transforms.

When he thinks really hard as the Creeper (and sometimes as himself, untransformed) you'll hear cuckoo clock sounds.

- Sarsee

[artphotographyofmen]

Batman and The Creeper by Rick Burchett

[supreme-leader-stoat]

Jack ran a disbelieving hand through his hair as he watched them go. “Just what are fairies?” he mused to himself.

“You tell me,” Storkwing said, leaning on his walking staff. Jack had nearly forgotten his presence in the confusion.

“Ah, well, that’s… I mean—”

“Be at peace, Jack Rider, or as near as you can come to it,” he said, with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “We are now beyond their hearing, and I am not kin to those who dwell here.”

Jack started. “You’re not a fairy?”

“Nay, no more than you. But come, I bid you speak freely, for you have left both your question and mine unanswered. What do you think fairies are?”

Jack studied Storkwing for a long moment. This man knew much, too much for comfort, but perhaps that was just the sort of man who Jack needed to humor right now. “Well,” he began carefully, “if they’re devils, then I suppose I must be damned a hundred times over, so I must hope that they are something else.”

“Then your hope is not in vain, for they are not devils of Hell, nor were they ever cast from the heavens.”

“Not angels, then” he considered, “nor wandering stars. Then I suppose they must be the spirits of old. Those false gods of the Greeks and pagans that dwell in the wilds.”

Storkwing actually laughed at that. A loud belly laugh that carried for so far and long that Jack’s fairy guards began to shift uncomfortably in the distance.

“What’s so funny about that?” Jack asked indignantly.

“Forgive me, Jack Rider,” Storkwing said, pausing to catch his breath and wipe tears from his eyes. “I laugh because your guess somehow places them both too high and far, far too low. But be that as it may, you draw no closer to guessing at their true nature.”

“Ghosts, then. The restless spirits of the dead.”

“Nay, nay, thrice I tell you nay.”

“Well, what in God’s name are they?” Jack asked, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

The mirth seemed to leave Storkwing instantly, being replaced by a hard solemnity. Jack jumped with a start, so sudden and drastic was the transformation.

“One would think,” Storkwing said sternly, “that you would have learned to better guard your tongue by now. But then, perhaps not, since lies have been your bread and butter these many months. You wish to know the nature of the longaevi? So be it.

“They are you, Son of Adam, stripped of all pretense. They are your dreams. They are the shadows Men cast and the stories that you tell yourselves. They are your triumph and your lowest depths, your despair and your highest glories here on Earth. They are that which you long to be given life and form, and they are that which you fear to become.”

Though his stature did not change, the man—if that was the right word—in front of Jack seemed to grow larger as he spoke. Jack thought he began to see what those inside the palace walls had warned him about, before he ventured out to meet Storkwing. ‘Not an enemy, but dangerous’ indeed.

“And what,” Jack licked his lips nervously, though his dry tongue offered little relief, “are you, stranger?”

“Only a messenger,” he replied, “and one that comes with a warning for you, Jack Rider. For by trespassing here these many months, you have meddled in things beyond your ken.”

[kursed-arcana]

[artphotographyofmen]

The Creeper by Dan Brereton

[artphotographyofmen]

The Creeper by Tom Lyle

[rikitiki-infinity]