i'm only trying to get home / d8 train

COVER

STANLEY SCHUSTER: NOT AN AMAZONIAN PRINCESS

ISSUE #6
Feb '81
Joel
SCHUSTER
Gail
SCHUSTER
Jonathan
MOORE
THIS ISSUE, REAL TALK, REAL FEARS!

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PAGE ONE
PANEL

1. We open with an interior shot of the train. Stanley is sitting with his hands clasped together. One eyebrow is raised as he stares out towards the reader in brooding, deep thought. There is emphasis on his facial features, particularly the vibrancy of his green eyes.

Stanley (INTERIOR MONOLOGUE)
No sign of our district’s illustrious victor. Well. That’s not good.

2.He scoffs, attempting to maintain an aura of bravado that most people would likely perceive as false.

Stanley (Interior Monologue)
Well, it happens from time to time, doesn’t it? That blonde woman from eleven faded out of the public eye for a couple years. I'm not sure district three even has victors. Jacinta Salazar isn’t all that available either. Who needs a mentor anyway? I’m Stan “The Man” Schuster. Bring it on!

3. Though the back of his head is facing us, we can see the reflection of his face in the train window. He is clearly afraid with jaw clenched and eyes wide.

4.He puts his head into his hands. SFX (SIGH)

Stanley (INTERIOR MONOLOGUE)
Oh, who am I kidding? This ain’t last years quell. I’m gonna die. The only question is when and how.

5. Transition: CAPTION BAR:FLASHBACK TO TWO YEARS AGO

The panel is mostly black and white. Stanley is watching television while cringing. A simple roast mutton sandwich is in his hand. The mutton is red. The screen shows replays of his districts tributes deaths. One half of the screen shows the spear going through Neela Chiffon’s head. The other half shows Stitch Gabel catching on fire, his foot detached from the rest of his body. The fire and the blood and brain matter leaving Neela’s face are also colored in red.

6. Stanley puts his sandwich on the table, the look on his face is one of dismay and disgust.

(Interior Monologue)
Well, $#!%. There goes my appetite.

PAGE TWO
Panel

1. Transition. CAPTION BAR: THE PRESENT

Stanley sits stiffly in his seat, gripping his knees with whitening knuckles.

Stanley (INTERIOR MONOLOGUE)
That’s not gonna be me. But I'm going to have to be something other than what I am. Yeah, kiss my %$#, other tributes. Look out, my sewing skills are #@$%! deadly! Better get fitted for a funeral suit now! Which I can fit you for! I’ll patch your pants until you’re begging for the sweet release of death!

2. Stanley suppresses a mournful laugh. There are tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

Interior Monologue
I don’t have any experience fighting people. Better get really good at making friends…

3. Stanley reaches into his pocket, presumably to roll the thimble around some more.

4. The panel is overlaid with images of past tributes floating around his head. (Editor's Note: Which tributes is up to the artist's discretion, Lord knows there's hundreds to choose from. Try to pick more recent, recognizable tributes though.)

Stanley (INTERIOR MONOLOGUE)
Clearly the Capitol has something against the Hopes, maybe it’s best to distance myself. Why'd the dude run for mayor anyhow?

5. Stanley looks out the window again. They are passing by what must be district nine. In the distance there are factories with black and grey smoke billowing out of their tops.

6. Damaris Hope enters the room, taking a bite out of a roll. The door has air lines on one side, suggesting that it is closing behind her. (SFX: SHHTTTUP)

(Editor’s note: Are there plans to feature Damaris in future issues? There could a compelling character arc here, especially if they wind up meeting in the arena.)

PAGE THREE
PANEL

1.Stanley leans back in his seat, looking up at the roof of the train car. A wan smile is on his lips.

Interior Monologue
She's got the right idea. Wouldn’t want to starve to death on the train ride over. Unless that’s an option?

2.Focus is put on his district partner. Brunette hair hangs loosely, framing her face. Remember that a small portion of the roll is missing. Try to make her look unsure, like she doesn't know what to say, even though she does say something.

Damaris (SPEECH)
This train is beautiful; I’m trying to enjoy it. Are you?

3-4. (Splash Panel)The young man shrugs, eyeing the roll that Damaris is nibbling on. Wiggly lines by his stomach indicate that it is growling in hunger.

5-6. (Splash Panel)
Center Stanley's face in the over sized panel. Cheshire cat grin. One eye closed in an exaggerated wink.

Stanley (SPEECH)

How’s the saying go? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well, you're better looking than the train, that's for sure. Nice to meet you, Damaris.

Editors note; (So, is Stanley going to pretend to be a killer, or pretend to be more suave than he is? Or both? I get that as per his evolving character arc he needs to reinvent himself as someone he perceives as being able to win; And I realize that comic book characters have a tendency to undergo personality changes depending on the writer; Now that Ross is off the book, there's bound to be some changes, but Moore, do try to aim for some core consistency if you go this route.)


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COVER

STANLEY SCHUSTER: NOT AN AMAZONIAN PRINCESS

ISSUE #6
Feb '81
Joel
SCHUSTER
Gail
SCHUSTER
Jonathan
MOORE
THIS ISSUE, REAL TALK, REAL FEARS!

DIRECT SALES


$2.99

Smooth, real smooth Stan you probably just made her self-conscious. He chided himself as Damaris looked embarrassed. She said it was nice to meet him though, barring the terrible circumstances. He agreed. Neither of them had any business being shipped off to the games. That was for the meatheads and the gym bitches from the career districts.

Damaris apologized for eating in front of him, (probably because she heard his stomach) and asked if he’d looked in the dining car yet. Stanley shrugged. “The one that’s supposed to be full of food? Nah. I’ve been too busy contemplating my impending doom.” he replied with a weak laugh. Stanley looked down, fidgeting with his thimble as he tried to think of something to say. It was very likely that in a few weeks they’d both be dead. Still…

“Look, we don’t know each other. I get that,” he said after a moment.“I just want you to know that you have nothing to fear from me. On the off chance that I actually win this bullshit, I wouldn’t want to have to explain to your dad the mayor why I killed you.” He blew out a sigh, closing his eyes as he did so. When he opened them again, he held out a hand for her to shake. “So, what do you say we try not to kill each other in the arena?”


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