Don't Step on Superman's... er, Super Wolf's Cape...

Summer-hot greetings, shapeshifter lovers. Yep, from too chilly on the tame prairie to too darn hot. However, that’s a mild complaint given all the weather catastrophes of late. Hope you are safe and well, and getting ready for some summer fun and reading time.

Okay, then, a sort of rant ahead. Why? Because my hot button got walloped last Saturday night. There’s no other place to vent. And, my frustration level, in general, has probably passed Pluto by now.

Side Note: At least I don’t have to be frustrated over the edits for KANDY APPLE AND HER HELLHOUNDS. I completed those, and am about to do a read-over just to double check everything.

The radio show host shall remain nameless because he should remain nameless. However, last Saturday night he interviewed Gotham Chopra, yes, Deepak Chopra’s son, about how Gotham, to quote: “decoded the 7 essential laws that govern the realm of superheroes both ancient and modern, and explained how to apply these laws to our daily lives.”

Yeah, yeah, the mystical meets modern digital comics. While Gotham did have some valuable and pertinent insights, largely based on the gods and goddesses of his ancient East Indian culture... and, yes, their stories are AMAZING!... still, his version of these stories as translated for these times, seemed rather tame.

And, no, not lame. No, that description is reserved for the ‘nameless one’. I mean how often can you state that you find Superman as a superhero BORING. Oh, let’s see now, it had to be roughly TEN times during the late-night chat. Yep, at every opportunity it was the same tired of old mantra of how the nameless one couldn’t relate to a superhero as perfect as Superman.

Gee, really? How come?

What’s so perfect about Superman? He may be an alien man with super powers, but how does that make him perfect? Granted, I only know Superman from the several different TV series I've watched, including the original version. And, of course, Christopher Reeve as Superman on the silver screen.... wow, did my heart race and my breath catch.

Gosh, I don’t find saving the day, or saving the innocent BORING. It’s not like Superman was some robotic imitation of a human. He wasn’t even Spock-like. He had deep feelings and emotions. Over Lois Lane. Over the state of the world. Over... well life, and living life.

The Superman I saw was deeply conflicted at times, and faced terrible choices. Choices, he had to live with. How is THAT not human? Or, relatable?

So, he was often stoic. So, he was about doing the right thing, and being the good guy. So, he acted responsibly in his daily life, unless the Kryptonite got him, or whatever nastiness the villains managed to get him with. So, he was modeled on the ideal version of a man for THOSE times -- right after WWII.

Superman was also lonely. Very lonely, yet he persevered and made the world a better place by his actions. Heck... I bet that’s not relatable, either.

So, Mr. Nameless, he may not be relatable to YOU. Big effing deal. Like everyone else, you have a right to your opinions and feelings. You have a right to choose your fave superheroes and/or superheroines for whatever reason. And, for no reason at all.

But, get over it. Grow up. Get a freaking clue.

And, no problem... have your opinions and feelings, but don’t ‘force’ them on us as if your *opinion* has suddenly become the new religion. And, we all need to convert.

Yes, this hit home with me for two reasons. One, because of what I’ve already ranted about. And, two, because Mr. Nameless-shameless stepped on my Super Wolf’s cape. Good thing, it was White Fang’s metaphorical cape, and not his very real wolf tail. Because, hell, Nameless would be lucky to have a foot left dangling. Although, then White Fang would probably make certain he received medical assistance.

So, my Super Wolf is one of the good guys at heart. Don’t we need those kind of superheroes in our world today?

However, White Fang ain’t no saint, neither. When Pasha puts the seductress moves on him, he can’t resist, even knowing it’s not the wisest thing he’s ever done, and could cost him his mission.

And, like all of us White Fang makes mistakes. He has bad days. And, he’s damn lonely.

Not to mention his bride-mate, a woman he loved, chose another mate -- one reason he signed up for missions on Earth. Gosh, that’s not relatable, is it?

Ya know, some characters walk on the light side and feel the constant pull of the dark side. At times, they succumb. While some characters walk on the dark side, but reach for the light side. Because they crave redemption.

Redeem the bad boy or knock the good guy off his path? Either way, it’s a personal choice for the author, and the reader.

Ya know it takes all kinds of superheroes and superheroines in this world, or inhabiting all the worlds we writers create. So, why not extend an open hand, an open paw, to all of them, instead of a closed and clawed fist. Unless, of course, you’re the bad-guy, ruthless villain with extraordinary powers bent on ruling the world, the entire galaxy, then the universe. Well, hey, then a closed fist might be your style.
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Don’t Step on Super Wolf’s Cape

Human. Every nose in the old-timey gin joint got bent out of joint sniffing the air, including White Fang’s sniffer. The regulars cast suspicious glances, but being used to surviving in a human world, they acted as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

“What’s that ape doing in here? Isn’t it getting close to his beddy bye time?”

White Fang overhead one of the twenty-something werewolves say to his pack buddy. He, and Nick, shared a look, then took a swallow of their beers. Both of their gazes surreptitiously followed the man’s progress as he strolled toward the bar.

After a long day, he and the Guts and Butts Gazette editor, had stopped in for a cold brewski. There’d also been a few matters they wanted to discuss regarding the investigative stories White Fang had been writing about the Tiger Yakuza.

Given White Fang’s recent discovery that one of Shere Khan’s son had hacked into their computer system, he and Nick had become patrons of O’Malley’s roaring twenties’ bar. O’Malley, the grizzled werewolf owner, didn’t allow any of them newfangled devices in his place.

No one snuck one in, either. O’Malley’s nose never failed, and he tossed the offender out on his butt. With a snarl, he would inform them to stay away for the next two weeks.

Once he reached the bar, the *I just hit midlife* yuppie glanced around, a friendly expression on his face. “Hey, fellas. Quite an interesting little town you have here.”

White Fang had been about to answer when O’Malley straightened from wiping the bar, and directed his gaze at the human. “Yeah, interesting. Noticed you followed my rules. Yer not carrying one of them smartphone thingamajigs. What can I serve ya?”

“Whatever you have on tap. The wife is settling into our motel room.”

“Sure. Coming up.” O’Malley slung the large white cloth over one shoulder, and turned toward the tap.

“What’s up with all the werewolf pictures, references and memorabilia? Did the original wolfman move to Talbot’s Peak, and raise a family?” Mr. Smiley-Face Yuppie encompassed them all with his gaze.

“Something like that.” Eric, the twenty-something growled, then buried his nose in his beer for a long swallow.

“Never did get the whole *shift to beast killer during the full moon* thing,” the human announced as if his thoughts arrived from on high.

“Is that so?” Vincent, Eric’s pack buddy, challenged in his ‘pissing contest’ voice. With a stare, he set his tall glass down, the sound a definite clank on the wooden table.

“Do you know what I really can’t believe?” Mr. Yuppie mentally raised his own leg, and gave stare for stare. “Werewolves are the heroes in smut novels. Come on, what woman in her right mind would want...let’s say...relations with a hairy, ugly, butt-smelling --"

White Fang stood fast, intercepting Eric and Vincent as they leaped toward the human, their fangs bared. With finesse, he made it appear as if he merely brushed past them. Instead, he used his super strength to halt them in their tracks.

“Make that beer to go, would you, O’Malley?” White Fang leaned one elbow on the bar casually, but didn’t spare Mr. Yuppie his own fierce stare. “You’re not making any friends here, mister. Why don’t I walk you to your motel?”

“What are you, some good-guy superhero?”

White Fang raised his brows as he handed the filled plastic container to Mr. Not Smiley-Face Now. “Superhero?” he mildly asked.

“Yeah, I saw that move you put on the two college kids over there.”

Feeling the hostile vibes escalate to a dangerous level, White Fang inquired, “Did you?”

“I know a black-belt martial arts move when I see it.”

“On the house,” O’Malley answered the human’s glance and his reach for his wallet. “Just let the man here give you --"

“I don’t need anyone walking me to my motel, even if it is called Hunter’s Moon. Certainly, I don’t need superhero dude here.” With those parting words, the human pivoted, heading for the door

“Like stepping on Superman’s cape, do you?” Nick called after him.

“Like spitting into the wind, too,” the Yuppie mocked, speaking over his shoulder.

Rising, Nick set his beer down, and gave White Fang a wink that said “I’ll watch out for the fucking idiot.”

White Fang answered with a nod. He kept his grin to himself as he returned to his spot at the bar. Yeah, sport, you only get to step on Super Wolf’s cape once. After that, it’s fangs flashing in the moonlight, and one helluva lesson.
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Happy Month of June Shapeshifting

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
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