‘So, what’s in the box?’
Norman tensed and tightened his grip on the package, immediately making himself fret even more that he had damaged the contents by squeezing too tightly. He was forced to remind himself that he wasn’t some lumbering hulk absentmindedly crushing things without realising. The box was perfectly fine.
The interviewer’s sunglasses slipped down from their perch above the ridge of his nose and he casually, but precisely pushed them back up to their exact resting spot. Norman could make out the vague outline of himself in the reflective lenses. His bright orange tie looked even more crooked in the warped mirror, though it still felt a tight noose around his neck. A stark contrast to his interrogator, who seemed to breathe easily enough despite the elaborate knot at his throat and a rigid grey pin-stripe suit. From behind his desk, he looked as if he belonged amongst the furniture of the room - the tall steel filing cabinets, the chrome printer. Even his stapler shared a similar palate and disposition. The only non-chrome item in the room seemed to be the small triangular nameplate at the front of his desk - Dr. Charles Lylak. Norman wondered just what kind of doctor he was.
‘What’s in the box, Norman?’ he pressed ‘I’m not psychic, you know’
“I.. well … you see …” spat Norman, choking on his words.
‘Norman, do you know why you’re here?’ The question was asked innocently enough, but the bluntness of the statement make Norman uneasy. There would be no dancing around his condition today.
“Because I don’t have a job and I don’t ...I don’t have any powers.’ he confessed.
‘I’m afraid not’ said Dr. Lylak with a look of genuine sympathy, despite the straight-forward approach. He took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. They shone a bright purple and Norman was hard pressed not to squint. ‘Your parents are very worried about you. They were most insistent that I see you.’’
‘They are always worrying. I wish they’d just leave me alone.’
It was true, Norman’s parents were worrisome, but it had not always been the case. When he was born, they may have shown some slight apprehension about his lack of abilities - no strength, nor speed, nor laser beams. Not even a tail. But the doctors had reassured them that everything was fine and that many children don’t discover their powers until later years. So they brought him home and examined him like a Christmas present, trying to guess what lay beneath the wrapping. Would he be a Hydro like his father, Nathan Neptune, who could summon huge tempests with a flick of the wrist? Perhaps more subtle powers like his mother, who could tell when somebody was lying or maybe that was just a power all mothers have.
They grew concerned once Norman started attending school and was placed in the NVP (No Visible Powers) Class, with all the other children who had yet to find out who they really were. There was Harry Heartbeat whose organs functioned at an extraordinary rate. He was soon moved to a special class for speedsters. He went on to become an Emergency Responder. Ellen Everlast found out she was immortal when a bookcase collapsed on her in the 3rd Grade. And there was Chloe Contiage, Norman’s first crush, who discovered she was a living bio-weapon when she accidentally infected Norman with Cholera during their first kiss. Norman had spent three weeks in the hospital, which he deemed to have been worth it. She too was gone upon his return to school. And so it went on, all the way through middle school, high school and university. His parents tried to mask their feelings, but as Norman aged the more he could see their growing anxiety over when he would develop his powers, until eventually Norman became the first person ever to graduate from university with a BA (NVP).
‘Be that as it may’ spoke Dr. Lylak, snapping Norman back to reality ‘They brought you here for a reason.’ A glimmer of lavendar shone out from behind his sunglasses and a glass of water bobbed its way across the room. Norman pressed his precious box first to the side and then behind his back, away from the ebbing water as it traversed around his seat to the man in the grey suit, who caught it nonchalantly and took a small sip. ‘Here, have some water’ said the doctor. Norman turned to see another glass was resting by his shoulder, bobbing up and down like a piece of flotsam. Norman took the glass and drank deeply. He was quite parched.
‘Norman, do you know what my powers are?’ spoke Dr. Lylak before Norman had finished swallowing.
“You can tell when people are thirsty?’
‘Not quite’ he chuckled. Norman didn’t realise that men in suits could laugh. They always seemed so dreary. Well, those involved with the government anyways.
‘Norman, I can sense a person’s needs, their … desires, for want of a better word. I help them discover who they are and how they can be a benefit to our society. How can you benefit our society Norman?’
‘Well .. I’m a pretty good swimmer.’ offered Norman weakly.
“Hahum. I’m sure you are’ the doctor said gently ‘but unless you can swim faster than a man with a dorsal fin, then I’m not sure that Lifeguard is the best fit for you. No, no, no. Tell me Norman. Who are the people in your life? How are you of benefit to them?’
Norman pondered for a while. The people in his life? He had only ever seemed to disappoint his parents. He couldn’t even play underwater sports with his dad. Instead, he liked to sit in his room and read books or draw pictures. He remembered seeing the pain in his dad’s eyes as they were forced to move away from their house at the Lagoon and into a more suitable apartment in Starlight City. A swamp was no place for a growing boy with no powers.
Then there was his roommate Bill. Surely he was of benefit to him. Norman did most of the housework, despite Bill’s powers and if nought else, they were friends. Norman had moved in with Bill to find some respite from his parents. Like most apartments in the city, it was fairly sparse. Not many people opted for well-furnished living quarters, where at a moment’s notice a neighbour’s sneeze could blow a hole in your living room. And this neighbourhood wasn’t exactly famous for friendly neighbours, but it was all Norman could afford without an official government occupation.
‘Is that really of benefit to Bill though’ the doctor inquired, taking off his sunglasses and laying them down on the oak desk ‘or are you just enabling his insecurities about himself?’
The room started to darken and take on a violet hue. It was true Ben didn’t need Norman’s help. He didn’t need anyone’s help. Ben was Level 0, with multiple abilities and formidable power. He was destined for great things. He was the youngest applicant chosen to be an Enforcer of Justice, patrolling the streets to keep the peace between superpowered individuals. However, he quickly became disillusioned with the establishment. He disliked both taking orders and telling others what to do. In fact, Norman often wondered if Ben had become disillusioned with life itself. He didn’t play sports as he found them too easy. He had no need for food and his body metabolised alcohol quicker than he could feel its effects. Reading books gave him a headache. ‘Dyslexia, my only weakness’ he would often say with a wry smile, but Bill didn’t smile much these days. All he did now was float in midair above the sofa in his tartan pajamas and fluffy pink bunny slippers, watching TV all day and all night.
“So, tell me, Norman’ Dr. Lylak encouraged ‘ What’s in the box?’
Norman looked down nervously at the innocuous cardboard box on his lap. He gingerly pulled off the lid and peeked inside. Inside there was … there was … nothing?
‘Nothing?’ inquired the man puzzled. The purple hue receded from the room. The box on Norman’s lap shimmered and dissipated into nothingness. ‘Nothing’ echoed Norman.
Dr. Lylak pinched the brow of his nose and settled his sunglasses back on. He sighed heavily ‘Go home Norman. We’ll try again tomorrow.’
Norman gathered his stuff awkwardly, an old raincoat that had seen better days, his hat and gloves. He turned back to reach for the box, before recalling that it no longer existed. A figment of his imagination, just like his dreams. He sheepishly thanked Dr. Lylak and left down-heartened.
The sun was setting as Norman exited the building and the tall looming street lamps awoke from their slumber. A brisk spring breeze reminded him that he was no longer sitting in a comfortable office and he drew his coat close. He had a long walk ahead of him to his apartment in the more affordable part of town. As he walked, the street lamps became more dispersed, replaced by harsh neon lights. Graffiti encroached like spiders on every brick, window and door with threats, lewd promises and more. Dogs barked, car alarms blared, glass smashed. Norman hummed to himself, trying to drown out all the noise, each sound certainly attributed to some illicit act as Norman’s imagination went wild.
Suddenly, an ear piercing scream shook Norman from his imaginings. Up ahead, Norman could see a young woman being dragged into a back-alley by a large ape-like man. His hands were the size of shovels, hard and jagged like the shell of a crab. ‘Help me!’ screamed the woman, struggling in vain, before his giant paw covered her face and dragged her into the darkness.
Norman steadied his nerves. Was he really seeing this? Was he really about to do this? He looked down to see his feet were already in motion.
‘Hey!’ He quickened his pace.
‘Hey you! Norman broke into a sprint,
‘LET HER …’
Norman stopped short. The man looked a lot bigger in the close confines of the alleyway. Clearing seven foot, even while slouching, he dwarfed Norman. His broad shoulders caused the fire escape to creak as he brushed up against it. The girl was a lot taller too; she stood a good foot over Norman, and seemed rather calm for someone who had just been dragged into a dark alcove. Her body wretched and shifted, her face elongated and her teeth sharpened. She hissed in laughter revealing a large reptilian head with huge protruding eyes and a flickering tongue.
Norman turned to run, but the lizard-girl was too quick, darting around him to block off his path.
‘Well, look at thisssss’ she hissed ‘My knight in ssshining armour.’
‘Stay back!’ yelled Norman, his quaking voice unmasking any false pretensions of confidence that he would try to feign.
‘Little guy’s got spunk’ growled the large man ‘You sure he’s not Level 2?’
‘Ain’t no level 2s down here, Mort. They all up in the clouds, in the rich part of town. Like they too good f’us. No, he smell like five f’me. Whatcha gonna do, boy? Blow some bubbles at me?
‘I’ll … I’ll call for enforcement’ said Norman, visibly shaking at this point.
‘Oh, ain’t no Blackcaps, this side of the track, boy. They only look out f’themselves, them rich boys. They ain’t never come down this way. Ain’t that right, Mort?’
‘Right’ grinned Mort revealing a set of chunky yellow teeth. His concerns eased, Mort reached out to grab Norman with one large sweaty paw. Norman closed his eyes and braced himself. And braced. And braced.
He slowly peeked out one eye to see Mort’s massive hand hovering in place above his head. He opened his eyes and turned around to see Bill standing there, still in his pajamas and fluffy pink slippers. He held Mort’s arm in a vice-like grip. Mort flailed and swung his free limb in a vicious arc at Bill, who didn’t even flinch, taking the full impact of the blow right on his chin. Bill calmly stroked his stubbled chin, as if he were brushing off a cobweb, before colly back-handing Mort, sending him flying into a nearby dumpster in a cloud of tin cans and old newspapers.
The lizard-girl tried to scurry off in the opposite direction, but quick as a flash Bill had rounded her as easily as she had cornered Norman. She gasped as he grabbed her round her scaly neck and carried her up into the air ‘You alright Norman?’ Bill sounded concerned.
“I’m okay. Just a bit shaken’ spoke Norman, trying to sound calmer than he was.
“No harm in being shaken’ replied Bill, passing over Norman’s head back to Mort, where he proceeded to demonstrate what he meant by shaking him violently to wake him up. ‘Might keep you from doing something stupid in future’
‘It wasn’t stupid. It was ..’
‘Heroics?’ interjected Bill ‘ You could have been killed. You’ve got to take care of yourself’
‘Some of us care about more than just ourselves’ Norman said defiantly ‘Maybe others need to remember that’
“What are you saying Norman?’ said Bill, floating down towards him, still clutching the two would-be assaulters.
‘All day long you mope around on the couch when you could be doing so much more.’ pushed Norman.Bill needed to hear this.
‘More’ said Bill, shaking his head ‘Everybody’s always wanting more, Norm, but they never tell you what to do when it gets too much? Do you have any idea what it's like to be me? I don’t eat. I don’t sleep. Time goes by so slowly. You start to miss those ... little things. You know, when you can take the full blast of a nuclear reactor, it’s hard to feel any sensation at all anymore- the breeze blowing in your hair right now might as well be a gale force storm to me. These slippers may as well be made of concrete for all I care. I mean, it’s hard for me to appreciate life, when there’s not much I can do to enjoy it. Sometimes, I want to just end it all .. but I don’t even know how I could do that.’
Norman was taken aback. He knew his friend was depressed, but this? How could he have been so blind as to not see it, to not be there for his friend. Dr. Lylak was right. He truly hadn’t been of benefit to Bill.
‘C’mon buddy. Let’s go home.’ Norman suggested. It seemed as if his friend was more in need of rescuing than him.
“Sure thing’ Bill replied ‘Won’t be a sec’
In a blur of tartan and pink, he disappeared with the criminals and re-appeared almost instantaneously.
‘So’ said Norman ‘if you can’t feel those slippers, why do you wear them?
‘I dunno. I guess I just think they’re cute.’
*
Back at home, Norman showed Bill all the artwork he had done over the years, whenever he was feeling down on his luck. He pulled out a large dusty cardboard box from under his bed where he kept his most precious work.
‘So, what’s in the box?’ asked Bill. Norman emptied the contents onto the floor. hundreds of drawings and comics he had made spilled out onto the tiles.
“Cool’ said Bill, grabbing the closest one ‘What’s a superhero?
’
Brainstorming popplet link: http://popplet.com/app/#/2997507
I'm a big fan of comic books and superheroes in general and lately there has been a plethora of superhero movies, TV shows, games etc bursting forth from all corners of the media. As such, and just for fun, I decided to flex my creative muscle in this realm and see what I could come up with in this realm. There are literally millions of superpowered heroes out there already with every conceivable power so I thought I had a stroke of genius when I flipped it and thought 'what if what makes him unique is by not having any powers at all?'
As it turns out, this idea had been done before, most notably NormalMan by Jim Valentino, but as we discussed in our first tutorial, most stories generally have, so I decided to go with it. I think the world I created is vastly different from the one occupied by NormalMan.
Im a big fan of fantasy, and creating mystical new worlds and stretching my imagination is really where I can hit my stride I feel. As such, I found it really interesting to think and create a world in which everyone had special powers. How would their education system work? What would crime be like? Would anyone bother with house insurance if your neighbour could literally blow a hole in your living room with a sneeze?
The more I thought about my world and the story around it, the more I viewed it in a Pixar-style animation akin to The Incredibles. I remembered before reading about Pixar's 22 Rules for story-telling and sought them out on the internet for guidance.. They were a great help to me, particularly this one:
The Characters:
Norman:
Norman was obviously the first character I thought of, the titular Unsuperman, with a distinct pun on his name. I wondered what kind of person would he be? What would it be like to live in a world where everyone had special powers but him? Again, it seemed on par with the themes of many Disney or family movies - finding out what makes them special. In homage to the genre and in ways to this course, I thought it fitting that what made Norman special would be his creativity and his desire to inspire people through his comics. It also helps that these traits are not something that can be easily represented by your generic superhero traits. Super strength, speed, intelligence etc will not increase your creativity.
Bill:
Surprisingly, the more I wrote, the more I found Bill to be a more compelling character than Norman. The guy who has it all, but yet is still found wanting. The idea for Bill came about when I was pondering about how the big superheroes fit into this world. The massively overpowered heroes like Superman. At first, I thought it would be a good idea to have these kinds of heroes in some kind of policing taskforce. Who better to prevent crimes from superpowered individuals, than a hero with all the powers? Then I began to ask questions of the morality of such an establishment and how would Superman feel about taking such orders.
The key element to Bill's character though comes from another question 'Why isn't Superman bored with humanity?' Imagine a life where everything is just too easy for you? Bill has no need to eat, to sleep, has no competition and lacks the motivation for anything really. Thanks to his superspeed, life trickles by at a snail's pace for him. While the concept for Norman may have been done before, I found little evidence online in this instance. In fact, the closest I saw was this scene from Megamind where Metro Man becomes bored with constantly protecting the city and wants to live his own life
Warning: Spoilers if you haven't seen this film
Norman's parents:
Norman's parents play a crucial role in shaping Norman's identity and though they struggle to come to terms with Norman's lack of ability (as opposed to disabilities faced by many parents and children in the real world), I wanted to show that they are not bad people.
Overall, I like the idea behind the piece and the overall theme. However, I feel I bit off more than I could chew trying to fit this world into just 2000 words. I think the scale of the visual world and the time needed to develop the characters arcs requires a much longer piece. I tried to frame it by confining the story to the one room and using flashbacks to tell the story, but as you can see that didn't work out and Norman leaves the office half way through the tale. This is mainly due to the ending, where I found it difficult to write a believable ending, where Norman would realise what he aspired to be. It's hard to write an epiphany though flashbacks. In storytelling they really need to happen in the moment, and not suddenly dawn on the character weeks/months later.
The interaction between Bill and Norman also needs to be fleshed out and developed more. It seems fairly forced, again I was conscious of the work count, as I had already exceeded 2000 words upon writing that scene. I also feel that dialogue is not my strong point and always seems a bit strained to me.I generally dislike spelling things out for the audience in plain words, and direct speech tends to be just that for the most part, unless your characters are particularly quirky.
I'm not too happy with the title. I could have gone with something more vague like 'The Box' but I don't think it carries enough weight for what the story is about, particularly if I decide to elaborate more on it.
Perhaps I will flesh out this story more, maybe as a screenplay and send it to Pixar and get rich. :)
