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| thistle salad - 000390 - anna bloom wakes up | Trace Flood: A strong enough magician with a god's knowledge behind him could remake the world-
/ Trace Flood: Turn the clock back to when the gods could stand on their own, even. Before the wars. / Trace Flood: Before Empire. Now, their tribes are scattered, their blood is thin, their nation sundered. Our gods are taking their last breaths.
/ Trace Flood: 'Our gods' Sounds like they are these great good things, our protectors- when they feed off of us and only protect themselves. They are the parasites of our reality, the cost of magic. They bind us to causes too obscure for us to comprehend and let us die for their campaigns. / Trace Flood: They need us- They think we could save them. But only an idiot would take that deal-
/ Danny Relston: Why would you say that?
/ Trace Flood: Well, sure, there's the limitless power and being all in touch with the cosmos and whatever. But that power isn't for you, is it? You're waiting on your Lady Whoever's whims. Besides, limitless power just doesn't go as far as it used to. They die, magic dies, and, a century from now, we're all unemployed. / [[Danny Relston's eyes gleam gold.]] http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000390.htm |
| thistle salad - 000391 - [son of the son] | Drae: Heart, soul and mind-- between you and your vapid half-sister, there is almost one human being. / [[Danny Relston finishes dressing]]
/ Drae: That is my penance for destroying your father. Pray you do not fail me as he did. / Danny Relston: I thought dragons were extinct, http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000391.htm |
| thistle salad - 000392 - the broken thread | [[A woman with a prosthetic hand rings a doorbell.]] / [[She's got more than just the one prosthetic hand- this is Ginger, and most of her limbs have been replaced.]]
/ Ginger: Good morning! I'm here about the job opening. / Servant 1: Miss, I'm afraid that you'll find we have no--
/ Ginger: If it's no trouble- / Ginger: I'll just show myself in. / Servant 1: Miss! Miss! I can't allow-
/ Ginger: Honey, you just did. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000392.htm |
| thistle salad - 000393 - the broken thread | [[Ginger has bluffed her way into the midst of a mansion]]
/ Man: This is preposterous!
/ Ginger: I have to agree. For starters, you've dressed them for the wrong century. And they're 'eating' off of empty plates. / Ginger: This is a very clumsy illusion, child. I suggest you drop it so we can talk. / Voice from above: GET HER OUT OF HERE!! / Ginger: So defensive. I'm going to enjoy breaking you, little boy.
/ [[as behind her the - whatever they are- start going all glowing hands and eyes. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000393.htm |
| thistle salad - 000394 - big tiger | John Rask: Hey. This is a private conversation.
/ Soldier 1: Yeah, you wanna talk, talk normal, right? Our language.
/ Soldier 1: This could be a plot, Bill, a trap. / Cybil Lattimer: No.
/ [[It is apparent her attention is elsewhere. Behind the men, the horned princess is watching.]] / Soldier 2: You just don't get it, man. Besides how improbable a trap would be- how could someone else find us when we don't know where we are?-
/ Soldier 2: It would be worth it, just to have another pair of eyes watching this damn forest. / [[The princess draws back her bow.]] / Cybil Lattimer: Don't. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000394.htm |
| thistle salad - 000395 - big tiger | [[close up on the arrowhead, as the princess presumably prepares to kill the soldier threatening Cybil Lattimer]] / Cybil Lattimer: ...please... / [[John Rask moves faster- his foot is resting on Soldier 1's shoulder...]]
/ Soldier 1: ah
/ John Rask: I think you owe the young lady an apology. / [[John Rask uses his foot to slam the soldier into the ground]]
/ [[slam!]]
/ Cybil Lattimer: No! / [[Cybil is on her knees next to the fallen man]]
/ Cybil Lattimer: That wasn't necessary.
/ John Rask: So? [[switching languages]] What are we to you? http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000395.htm |
| thistle salad - 000396 - big tiger | [[Cybil examines the fallen man]]
/ Cybil Lattimer: I think he'll be okay.
/ John Rask: Pity. / [[Shot of empty tree- the princess has vanished]] / John Rask: I could have broken his neck if only he'd been gracious enough to be facing the other way. / [[Cybil Lattimer looks on in horror as Soldier 2 strikes John Rask on the back of the head with the butt of his rifle.]]
/ [[crack!]] http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000396.htm |
| thistle salad - 000397 - big tiger | [[Cybil Lattimer catches an unconscious John Rask as he falls]] / Cybil Lattimer: What's wrong with you people? / Solider 2: Nothin's wrong with us, girl. It's just human nature to learn your lessons from the blunt end of a weapon. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000397.htm |
| thistle salad - 000398 - big tiger | [[Cybil is kneeling by the bodies of two unconscious men now; Soldier 1 and John Rask.]]
/ Cybil Lattimer: And what lesson was it that he was to learn? / Soldier 2: Let me see... Ben there has learned not to underestimate a man just because he's blindfolded and bound, Rask has learned not to attack us and I learned that you and John speak a language that Ben and I do not. / Soldier 2: And you, I hope, have learned that you should not press that advantage. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000398.htm |
| thistle salad - 000399 - big tiger | Cybil Lattimer: Do you think this is a plot then, like your friend does? / Soldier 2: Seriously? No. You're far too young, too white and too female to be someone Rask would associate with.
/ [[He offers her a hand to help her up]] / [[Close up on their hands clasping.]]
/ Soldier 2: Nice ring. / Cybil Lattimer: [[turns away from him]] No. It isn't.
/ Soldier 2: Yeah. Serves me right. Trying to win a girl's trust by complimenting her jewlery. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000399.htm |
| thistle salad - 000400 - prison planet | Grace Warfield: What's with the ruckus?
/ [[a crowd is gathering in the prison yard behind Haviland Stewart.]] / Tom Amala: Stewart, you're a doctor- Lohr's having one of his fits.
/ Haviland Stewart: ? / [[Tom pulls Haviland along behind him]]
/ Haviland Stewart: Wait- You MORON- / [[Tom is shouldering other men aside, dragging Haviland with him.]]
/ Tom Amala: Move it, mate, I've a doctor here.
/ Haviland Stewart: -I'm not a medical-- / [[In the center of the crowd is a young man heavily tattooed and foaming at the mouth. Haviland's glasses have changed from green lenses to blue.]]
/ Haviland Stewart: Well, well, well. Mr. Lohr, I believe that I am pleased to make your aquaintance. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000400.htm |
| thistle salad - 000401 - other people's sins | [[John Diondel carries the sleeping child in his arms]]
/ Victori Carslyle: W-who is she?
/ John Diondel: Something both the ladies I serve want. Colonel Alexander went through a great deal of trouble acquiring her. And my anonyomous benefactor brought you here to get us out.
/ John Diondel: I must get this girl outside of these walls. / John Diondel: As I... promised her mother I would.
/ Victori Carslyle: You've- sold your soul to save this child? / John Diondel: Don't make is sound noble, Carslyle. I have probably damned the both of us by that bargain.
/ John Diondel: No- my Lady Blight surely has her own cage prepared for Michelle. / Victori Carslyle: but then-
/ John Diondel: What choice was I to make? I gave my word. Either Michelle grows up a slave here, or she becomes a weapon in some immortal's arsenal. The latter might just give her a chance at having a childhood before her destiny catches up with her-- and that is the best I can hope for her. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000401.htm |
| thistle salad - 000402 - other people's sins | [[John is carrying a child in his arms as he and Victori Carslyle navigate their way through DEEP's fortress.]]
/ Soldier: Lord Diondel!
/ John Diondel: I rather thought this hallway seemed strangely deserted. Where are the other guards? / Soldier: Sir? There's been a riot in the prison level- Didn't--
/ John Diondel: Ah. How... convenient. / Soldier: [[noticing the girl in John's arms]] Didn't- you- you've-- that's-- you're not-- / Soldier: W-what are you doing here, Sir?
/ [[behind him, Victori is doing a good job hugging the wall and staying out of sight.]]
/ John Diondel: At the present moment? I am keeping your attention diverted so as to give my lovely assistant the chance to do something drastic. / [[Victori jumps the soldier, eyes and hands blazing with power.]] / John Diondel: That-- was more drastic than I was anticipating. / [[The soldier is clutching his throat while Victori stands, fists raised, tears streaming down her face.]]
/ John Diondel: Dare I ask what you took from him? / Victori Carslyle: -t-the air from- from his lungs and- and the w-words f-f-from his lips... http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000402.htm |
| thistle salad - 000403 - other people's sins | [[John Diondel throws the still sleeping(?) Michelle in Victori Carslyle's direction]]
/ John Diondel: Hold this. / [[John examines the soldier that Victori has.... um... disabled?]]
/ John Diondel: Well, I admire your gift for metaphor. But you could have simply shot him.
/ Victori Carslyle: I'm- I'm not a killer.
/ John Diondel: And yet you're traveling with a loaded gun. How mysterious of you. / John Diondel: As for you, young man, even without a voice we can't leave you here for someone else to discover. / Victori Carslyle: What are you going to do?
/ John Diondel: Something a tender hearted theif might not want to witness. / [[John Diondel uses magic to press the soldier backwards and into the stone walls of the fortress.]] / [[Victori turns away, crying, holding the sleeping child]] http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000403.htm |
| thistle salad - 000404 - other people's sins | [[Michelle has opened her eyes... there's something wrong with them.]]
/ Victori Carslyle: Did you- just- just kill that man? / John Diondel: No. Though that would have perhaps been a kinder fate. I have merely imprisoned him within this wall. / Victori Carslyle: That's horrible!
/ John Diondel: Is it? I have no frame of reference for these ethical conundrums of yours- I can only assure you that far worse has happened within these walls. He is still alive, after a fashion, and when the fortress falls, he will be freed. / John Diondel: Admittedly, that could be hundreds of years from now...
/ Victori Carslyle: Wait! I think there's... something... wrong with this child... http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000404.htm |
| thistle salad - 000405 - armageddon girl | Victori Carslyle: I'm done with this. Let's go back to base and get ourselves reassigned.
/ Tiffany Rose: I don't think it works that way, Victori. / [[Jetta Zarfos standing at a pay phone.]]
/ Jetta Zarfos: Yeah, hi, I'm looking for a Mrs. Tabitha Cannon? / [[Yellow pad with a list of possible contacts.]]
/ Jetta Zarfos: I was sure she worked-- okay. Thank you. Sorry.
/ [[Jetta's eyes are tearing up.]]
/ Jetta Zarfos: No, this would have been about five years ago. Roy Cannon- Roy J. Cannon? No one? Thank you. Sorry to have bothered you... / [[Jetta Zarfos crying with her black and white cat (Mr. Boots) at her feet]]
/ Jetta Zarfos: what happened to you?
/ Mr. Boots: maow! http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000405.htm |
| thistle salad - 000406 - prison planet prologue | [[Thelma Mitzen and some other guy from the White City are standing in Haviland Stewart's kitchen at three in the morning asking for a favor.]]
/ Thelma Mitzen: Look, can I speak freely?
/ Haviland Stewart: I don't see -- / Haviland Stewart: Ah. In front of Lisa. / Haviland Stewart: I could try sending her away but unless she wants to leave she could be be rather- difficult. And our--- arguments have become increasingly unpleasant. / [[Haviland's lenses have switched back to green.]]
/ Haviland Stewart: However, I can assure you that her memory is appalling- so even if she were able to make sense of our conversation, chances are entirely remote that she would be able to remember it tomorrow. Or, indeed, even an hour from now. It is a deficit that will perhaps resolve itself over time. But not, I think, tonight. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000406.htm |
| thistle salad - 000407 - prison planet prologue | [[Thelma tries to hand Haviland some papers, he won't take them.]]
/ Thelma Mitzen: Right. Well. Anyway, instant oblivion is only the best case scenario. There are some theories that-- / Haviland Stewart: Theories? I don't care what the theories are. You won't let them end the world in order to find out what happens next. Thelma, I've been at the end of the world before. What's different this time? Why bother me in the middle of the night? / Thelma Mitzen: uh / Thelma Mitzen: We think- we think Alexander's putting up the money for this one. We don't have the lab's exact location yet, but the whole warehouse district has been flooded with magic inhibitors. Which makes the lab difficult to pinpoint. / Haviland Stewart: Sure. But that's not why they are there. / Thelma Mitzen: What?
/ Haviland Stewart: You know, I worry about this younger generation. You have no patience for theory. This should be obvious to anyone who handles magic. Our world has a great deal of ambient magic in it that exists for just this purpose- to neutralize any attempts to break through reality. Without some force to counteract this ambient magic; the energy of a god, the will of a magician, or a grid of magic inhibitors, it would be impossible to break into the nature of reality and change it. Alexander isn't a magician - she just collects them. Now she's becoming a scientist. And if you were going to attempt to do magic without using magic, how else would you do it? http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000407.htm |
| thistle salad - 000408 - prison planet prologue | [[Haviland puts his coffee cup on the kitchen table. Thelma, in the midst of a pile of paperwork, looks over at him.]]
/ Thelma Mitzen: Nice lecture, Prof. Now, are you going to throw us out, or are you going to help me? / [[Haviland doesn't answer, but his lenses switch from green back to black - with some glowy gears thrown in for effect.]] / [[His lenses switched out, Haviland grabs the map.]]
/ Haviland Stewart: I don't suppose you bothered to translate all this into braille. / Thelma Mitzen: No, there wasn't-
/ flamboyantly dressed guy: Problems, old man? Those fancy eyes of yours don't work? / Haviland Stewart: They work. My brain just has difficultly processing what I see-- unless it is printed in high contrast black and white, which maps, generally, are not. / [[Thelma glares at her companion]]
/ Thelma Mitzen: What the hell are you doing? We need this man's help?
/ flamboyantly dressed guy: What kind of help is worth consorting with a dark magician? http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000408.htm |
| thistle salad - 000409 - prison planet prologue | Haviland Stewart: Actually, 'conscorting' is a pretty accurate depiction of- / Thelma Mitzen: Yes! This was all going far too smoothly. Go on, Haviland-- it's a perfect opportunity for you to mortify me in front of one of my peers. / Haviland Stewart: Fair enough. / [[Close up on Lisa Stewart's blank face.]] http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000409.htm |
| thistle salad - 000410 - armageddon girl | [[Victori Carslyle and Tiffany Rose (in uniform) are walking away from the graveyard]]
/ Victori Carslyle: Um, Tiffany? I've been meaning to ask- you couldn't have worn something-- less conspicuous?
/ Tiffany Rose: I'm not worried. My whole life no one's ever looked twice at me. / [[Juni Ellis is getting measured. She stares at her reflection in the mirror, unhappy. In the foreground, her manager Jerry speaks into his cell phone.]]
/ Jerry Ellis: As I keep telling you. It's not about looks these days- it's about marketing. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000410.htm |
| thistle salad - 000411 - anna bloom wakes up | [[Anna Bloom stands terrified as the horned man/ thing that's been killing her husband's bodyguards moves towards her--]] / [[And past her-- towards the house and the lighted window where her sister Eliza is.]] / [[Close up on Anna's eyes, wide and worried.]] / [[The horned figure gazes up at the window.]] / [[The sign of the coin of the cup appears on Anna Bloom's forehead and her eyes narrow... she's changed]] http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000411.htm |
| thistle salad - 000412 - the green door | Izzy Ursula Cutter: I just keep going over it in my mind, you know?
/ Patricia Stone: Going over what? / Izzy Ursula Cutter: My last day in the real world. / Izzy Ursula Cutter: I mean, if I hadn't taken that money from my mom's purse, if I hadn't skipped school--
/ Patricia Stone: Kid, it's not- this is not about you. / Izzy Ursula Cutter: If I'd been where I was supposed to be...
/ Patricia Stone: Isabel, you didn't do anything wrong. / Izzy Ursula Cutter: Then why am I here?! http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000412.htm |
| thistle salad - 000413 - the green door | [[Izzy Ursula Cutter and Patricia Stone in some unreal, other world]]
/ Patricia Stone: Dammit, Izzy, it isn't your fault!! / [[A grown up Izzy starts out of her dream]]
/ Lt. Izzy Ursula Cutter: Gah! / Kim Banner: [[on the wrong side of the fence]] um- you okay, Lieutenant?
/ Lt. Izzy Ursula Cutter: Yeah. I must've just dozed off for a-- / [[jump!]] / [[Kim Banner has jumped the fence.]]
/ Lt. Izzy Ursula Cutter: --I'm sure I didn't want to know that you could do that. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000413.htm |
| thistle salad - 000414 - the green door | Lt. Izzy Ursula Cutter: Late night?
/ Kim Banner: mm! / Lt. Izzy Ursula Cutter: [[swearing]], you look like shit, Banner. I'd ask about your boyfriend but somehow I doubt he's hurting nearly as bad as you are. / Kim Banner: What did you just-- / Lt. Izzy Ursula Cutter: Do I need to repeat myself? That preternatural hearing of yours suddenly fail? / Kim Banner: I hope it has- because otherwise I need to rip your throat out. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000414.htm |
| thistle salad - 000415 - anna bloom wakes up | [[Anna Bloom faces the monster rampaging her husband's garden.]]
/ Anna Bloom: I know you're here to kill my husband and his household. And maybe some other day I'd've let you do it - / [[Anna faces horned figure]] But my sister is in that house tonight and I will not let you pass. / [[half-panel of horned figure]] / [[Anna sent flying backwards through the air]][[flick!]] http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000415.htm |
| thistle salad - 000416 - prison planet | [[Night. We only see dialogue balloons for the first two panels.]]
/ Mariah: Can we wrap this up? You know how I hate being out at all hours.
/ Albert Dross: You always have to do this, don't you? Okay. Fine. You want to call this off, fine. It wasn't my idea in the first place. Let's go home. / Mariah: Albert, please. I know I saw something fall and I was almost certain...
/ Albert Dross: Now wait a... Hang on, I think I found your comet- / [[Alleyway, a man (Albert) stands over the body of a young woman with copious blonde hair who is wearing a orange leotard.]]
/ Albert Dross: Yep, it's a superhero alright.
/ Mariah: [[from off stage]] Oh, the poor thing. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000416.htm |
| thistle salad - 000417 - prison planet | [[Mariah examines a young woman who apparently has fallen out of the sky.]]
/ Mariah: She's not badly hurt- most likely she simply dropped from exhaustion. / Albert Dross: Probably been hounded all the way from the Eastern front.
/ Mariah: From one stonghold to another. I don't envy her the trip. / Albert: I don't envy us if you're planning on sticking around until they come back to finish her off. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000417.htm |
| thistle salad - 000418 - prison planet | [[Mariah is kneeling over the unconscious girl's body, Albert is standing behind her and wants to leave.]]
/ Albert Dross: Come on, Mariah. We've wasted enough time here.
/ Mariah: One more minute won't hurt anything. / Albert Dross: Just because you can't die don't mean you can get careless.
/ Mariah: Oh, that's subtle. Just because you have a stick up your ass-- / Mariah: Ah- Here we are: the young lady's make and model.
/ [[She has rolled up the sleeve on the unconscious girl's left arm revealing a barcode on her wrist.]] http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000418.htm |
| thistle salad - 000419 - prison planet | Mariah: How do you feel about the name 'Dawn'?
/ Albert Dross: You have to be freaking kidding me! Why can't you do the smart thing for once and leave well-- / Mariah: [[Snatching the unlit cigarette from his mouth]] And if I'd left you where I found you, Albert Dross?
/ Albert Dross: Hey! / [[Albert has picked up the unconscious girl.]]
/ Albert Dross: What I don't get is why- after all this time- you keep mistaking me for some freaking altruistic paragon.
/ [[Mariah's eyes are glowing]]
/ Mariah: Well, look at it this way. Altruism won't kill you, but I could. http://thistlesalad.com/thistle000419.htm |
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