London Calling - Issue 1 of 4

This was an idea that I’d had kicking around in my head for a long time, a miniseries about a group of London-based metahumans with  ambiguous powersets, a not-quite-superheroes story very much set in the city (thought having said that, I’ve put the first issue in Woolwich which isn’t exactly central).    It’s the first issue of a miniseries, so I’ve tried to start strong and have an ending which suggests there is a lot more to come.

Anyway, enough blather, onto the script.

EDIT: I’ve just noticed that I’ve forgotten to include the description for Wace in the .pdf!  I’ll upload a new version later.

LONDON CALLING

ISSUE 1 of 4

PAGE 1

Ext. On top of st. paul’s cathedral, day.

The sky is the color of a bruise, a storm hanging heavy over
the capital. Weird lightning flickers from cloud to cloud,
like it was the end of the world.
PANEL 1:
CLOSE UP: EMILY PARFETT.

Dark, chin-length straight hair frames a pleasant,
heart-shaped face.  Her makeup is ruined by the tears
rolling down her cheeks. She looks EXTREMELY pissed off.

PARFETT
You… you.. complete and utter
CUNT

(We might have to censor “cunt” but that’s the word she’s
using even under a black bar)

PANEL 2:
WIDE, but not quite wide enough to show how crazy it really
is for two people to be standing on st pauls (save the full
panorama for the splash)

We can see the low London skyline and the weird clouds and
lightning.  EMILY PARFETT is confronting a younger MICHAEL
DARROW.

DARROW is wearing a smart dark suit in a 80’s style, no
ridiculous pastels or rolled up sleeves but it is slightly
dated. His hair is a light brown, medium length and wavy.
Darrow’s hands are covered in blood up to the elbows. A
long, straight sword is held in his right hand, in the other
he holds the lapels of TIM, a young man who he’s obviously
just stabbed, his body half-slumped onto the rooftop. His
tie and hair is whipped around by the high winds.

PARFETT is wearing similar styled clothing, expensive and
well cut business attire. Business jacket, skirt, stockings.
Attractive but not particularly revealing. She’s also
wearing a long beige coat that’s flapping around like a cape
behind her. No shoes as she took off her heels for purchase
on top of the dome.

CAPTION:1984

DARROW
Don’t be so  Don’t be so NAIVE,
Emily…

PANEL 2:

Darrow lets go of the deceased Tim, who falls to the roof
with a THUMP.

DARROW
…I’ve just saved the WORLD.

PAGE 2

PANEL 1:

Parfett cradles Tim’s body.

PARFETT
You’ve MURDERED our FRIENDS,
Michael.  Oh God, TIM.. you
bastard. You’ve stabbed TIM.

PANEL 2:

Darrow wipes the blood off the sword with the edge of his
jacket.

DARROW
Tim was a worthless streak of PISS
who couldn’t find his ass with both
HANDS.  Dying is the most useful
thing he’s ever DONE.

PANEL 3:

Parfett is standing again, shaking with rage as she
confronts Darrow.

PARFETT
That’s IT. I don’t give a shit that
you just saved the world.  I’m DONE
with this, Michael.  I’m done with
ALL of it. I’m LEAVING.

PANEL 4:

Similar to Panel 3, but Parfett is teleporting away, a
woman-shaped hole in the world like a weird fractal
reflection.

PANEL 5:

CU on Darrow. He’s surprised and rattled, he had no idea
that Y could do that.  A small uncertainty  after his smug
victory.

DARROW
Hm.

PAGE 3

SPLASH PAGE

Titles, credits, etc.

Full page landscape of St Paul’s and surrounds, Darrow a
small figure standing on the top.   The storm is breaking
up, huge shafts of light now coming through the angry
clouds.

DARROW
…To hell with it.

PAGE 4

EXt. woolwich arsenal. day

The top 2/3 of the page is taken up with one image broken
into 2 panels, the second taller than the first.

We’re inside Woolwich Arsenal looking towards one of the
gated communities. The area has been cordoned off, emergency
services are everywhere. There are a lot of people receiving
medical attention - some are huddled under blankets, others
strapped into stretchers and loaded into ambulances. All
look either shell shocked or just plain crazy. No actual
injuries, it’s all mental.

In the foreground is THOMAS WACE, looking down at an

iPhone-like cellphone (he’s on a video call with Darrow).

Wace is a blonde man in his mid thirties.  Receding hairline,

slightly overweight, a permanent hangdog expression.

He’d be better looking if he cheered up and lost some weight.

All his speech-bubbles are linked across both panels.

PANEL 1:

This is framed on the skyline, on a slightly hazy winter
day, the sky a very bright pale blue, almost grey.  Flat and
dull compared to the dramatic stormclouds of the previous
page.

CAPTION
PRESENT DAY

DARROW
(electric bubble, he’s on the other
end of the phone)  Well?

WACE
It’s a MESS.

DARROW
SPECIFICS, Wace.

PANEL 2:

This is framed on Wace, and contains all the bustle of the
scene.

CAPTION:
WOOLWICH ARSENAL, LONDON

WACE
As far as I can tell, anyone that
comes within 500 meters of one of
the blocks loses their MIND.

WACE
No-one can get in there to see
what’s causing it without going
MENTAL, they’ve lost a couple of
cops and medics already.
Helicopters can’t even fly over it.

WACE
I’ve tried getting more info from
people but a policeman wouldn’t let
me past the caution tape.

DARROW
Wace, you’re as much use as a
chocolate hammer. Put the officer
on the phone, would you?

PANEL 3:

Wace hands his phone to a cop who’s standing on the other
side of some “POLICE LINE: Do Not Cross” tape.  He’s a
typical london bobby, stab proof vest, stupid helmet and
all.

WACE
It’s for you.

PANEL 4:

CU on cop. he’s raised the phone to his ear, unaware that
it’s a vid phone.

COP
Hello?

PANEL 5:

Similar to panel 4, but the cop’s eyes have widened and he’s
got a startled expression on his face. Darrow has just
introduced himself and threatened to completely ruin his
career, finances and home life.

PAGE 5

PANEL 1:

Wace is suppressing a smile as he ducks under the tape, the
cop helpfully lifting it for him.  The police officer looks
pissed off, but there’s nothing he can do about it.

PANEL 2:

Looking over Wace’s shoulder at Darrow on his camera phone.
Darrow looks similar to how we saw him in the 80s, except
his hair is now a pure silver grey, and his face is much
more lined and wrinkled. In the background we can just see
his richly furnished office.

WACE
What now?

DARROW
Talk to everyone you CAN, and for
God’s sake, hold up the PHONE so I
can SEE them.  I need to know
what’s happening there.

PANEL 3/REST OF PAGE:

A series of snapshots of the human aftermath of whatever
horrible event is happening in Woolwich Arsenal. People
sitting blank eyed in blankets. A man frothing at the mouth
as he’s held down by paramedics. A policewoman throwing up.
A medic telling Wace to get out of his face, pushing the
camera away angrily. Things like that, feel free to be
creative. Small regular panels, giving the impression that
Wace is doing what he’s told and we’re seeing what Darrow is
seeing. I’ll drop in dialogue later for panels that need it.

PAGE 6

PANEL 1:

Wace was in the process of talking to a crazy looking woman
but has been interrupted by his boss (she’s still raving in
the background)

DARROW
That’s ENOUGH.  I want you to get
in there and STOP whoever’s doing
this.

WACE
WHOEVER? But…

PANEL 2:

CU on Wace’s phone, Darrow’s face now fills the screen as if
he’s leaned forward. He’s irritated, so he’s going to swear
a lot.

DARROW
Don’t FUCK around here Wace. You’re
the ONLY one who can do this, so
when I say jump, you bloody well
JUMP. I’ve got some very important
people to call, so you get in
there, put a stop to this
situation, do as you’re fucking
told, and DON’T screw this UP.

PANEL 3:

Same as Panel 2, but the screen has blipped out and gone
dark as Darrow hangs up, a white line/dot showing where it’s
shutting off.  Wace’s face is reflected in the dark screen,
his eyes shadowed.

SFX: BOOP

PANEL 4:

Same as Panels 2 and 3. More focus on the reflected face now
that it’s not obscured with a white dot/line.

WACE
Shit.

PAGE 7

INT, BUSY OFFICE. DAY.

PANEL 1:

Exact same framing as last panel on page 4, except instead
of a reflection in a cellphone screen we are now looking at
Wace in the flesh.  Dressed in a white shirt and tie.

WACE
Shit.

PANEL 2:

A computer screen, a boring set of spreadsheets half
obscured by a game of Minesweeper, which Wace has just
lost.  Badly.

PANEL 3:

We see that Wace is sitting at a desk in a busy, open-plan
office. Despite the bustle around him, Wace looks bored and
discontent. Still, at least he’s got a window to look out
of, which he’s doing in a sort of sidelong, bored way.

CAPTION: ONE YEAR AGO

PANEL 4:

Wace’s POV. Looking out over the London skyline, which is
low and covered in chimneys and clutter, with a few
buildings standing out. And there’s two figures off in the
distance, surrounded by weird energy, fighting in mid air.
They’re too far away to make out any real detail, just
silhouettes.  This is VICTORY ACE and an unamed supervillan
who we’re never going to see again.

PANEL 5:

Small panel. CU of Wace, shading his eyes and peering out
the window, not quite beleiving what he’s seeing.

PANEL 6:

Another small panel. Closer on midair fight. Figures are
still indistinct, but energy is more intense.  Green
spherical explosions common.

PANEL 7:

Wace stands up from his desk, pointing towards the window
and looking around at the other people in the office, who
are looking non-plussed in that very special way that
English people do when someone is making a scene.

WACE
Has anyone else seen…

PANEL 8:

As Panel 7, but flooded with an intense white light, like
the flash from an atomic weapon.  Wace is just a sketchy
dark outline.

PAGE 8

EXTERIOR, OFFICE BUILDING, DAY.

PANEL 1:

Tall panel.

Wace is standing bug-eyed in mid air, almost like
Wile-E-Coyote, in the center of a perfectly spherical hole
in his office building. Everything around him is just GONE,
like it was disintegrated at the atomic level. The radius of
the blast extends up and down a couple of stories. Floors,
ceilings, desks have been cut cleanly by the sphere of
destruction. And yet Wace is completely untouched.

WACE
Whuh…

PANEL 2:

Same as Panel 1, but Wace is now falling, half off the
bottom of the panel.

WACE
AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!

PANEL 3:

INT. HOSPITAL, DAY

Wide panel (page width, underneath 1 and 2)  Wace is in
hospital, both legs in a cast, various other bandages from
falling a couple of stories. It’s remarkable he’s alive at
all.  He doesn’t look happy.

PAGE 9

PANELS 1-4:

…are repeats of the last panel from Page 6, alternating
day and night but with slightly changes to suggest the
passing of time. Start with night shot. Wace’s bandages
change, there’s various clutter… but there’s never any
flowers or get well cards or visitors.

PANEL 5:

Again, the same framing as 1-4, but now Darrow is sitting in
a chair beside the bed, looking relaxed.   Wace is asleep.
It’s night, the room rendered in blues and greys.

DARROW
Hello Mr Wace.

PAGE 10

PANEL 1:

Closer on Wace and Darrow.  Wace is waking up but still
groggy, rubbing his eyes, not sure what’s going on or who
this guy is.

WACE
Hzzat?

DARROW
Do you know how perfectly
ridiculous it is for you to survive
a direct strike from one of the
most powerful men on the planet?

WACE
My legs…

PANEL 2:

Darrow leans forward, switching on the bedside lamp. His
face is heavily shadowed on one side from the strong light
source. We’ll see that kind of shadowing often when dealing
with Darrow as he’s on the borderline of light and dark.

DARROW
You broke both your LEGS when you
fell a few stories and landed on a
CAR. Frankly, I’m surprised you
didn’t break anything ELSE. But not
QUITE as surprised as I am to find
you’re not a rapidly expanding
cloud of superheated MOLECULES.

DARROW
Tell me Mr Wace… or Thomas, if
you prefer; Do you know who VICTORY
ACE is?

PANEL 3:

CU on Wace.  The penny has just dropped.

WACE
Oh.

PANEL 4/REST OF PAGE:

A couple of photographs, like they’ve been strewn across the
panel. The main/largest is Victory Ace flying straight
through a german bomber (a Heinkel He 111) which is
exploding behind him. He’s a dark haired, squared jawed
military type, more Captain America than Superman. He’s
wearing a pilot’s flight uniform with no parachute, webbing,
goggles or headgear. A wide “V” is stitched across his
chest, in red-on-white material like the bars of the Union
Flag, the two stripes of the V meeting in the middle of his
jacket.

Smaller photos are Victory Ace shaking hands with Churchill,
a dramatic shot of him shooting beams from his hands, etc.
Don’t need many of these, one or two will do.

PAGE 11

PANEL 1/MOST OF PAGE:

We’re continuing the photomontage from Page 8, moving
forward in time. There’s photos of Victory Ace in the 60s
fighting a weird plasmatic black figure (the same figure he
was fighting when Wace was injured), containing a garbarge
can in a forcefield outside Earls Court Exhibition Center
(this is a reference to the 1974 IRA bombing), and flying
out of an Underground entrance carrying a frightened looking
middle-eastern man who’s holding a large black sports bag
(obviously a reference to the 2005 bombings). Can toss in
smaller promotional images if needed/wanted.

All are positive, powerful images. His costume changes
slightly through the eras, but still maintains the same
elements - british army green with the red V across the
chest. His costume is never spandex, always looking like
real clothing.

PANEL 2:

Back to Wace and Darrow again.

DARROW
Yes, “Oh” about sums it up. Your
office was collateral damage in a
fight between Victory Ace and some
absurd American creation, two
people best described as walking
nuclear WEAPONS, and you - YOU, Mr
Wace, emerge without a SCRATCH.

PANEL 3:

Wace has finally woken up enough to be annoyed and ask the
obvious question.

WACE
Look, who the hell ARE you? What’s
going on here?

PANEL 4:

Darrow is standing up now, his face retreating into shadow
as he tosses a newspaper onto Wace’s lap.

DARROW
My name is Michael Darrow, Mr Wace.
Here, read this.

PAGE 12

PANEL 1:

We’re looking over Wace’s shoulder as he picks up the paper.
It’s a typical trashy English tabloid like the Sun. The
headline reads “MIRACULOUS SURVIVOR” Underneath is a full
color picture of a handsome blonde man with both his legs in
casts, grinning cheerfully and giving a thumbs up for the
camera. A smaller headline reads “FIRST EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW”

WACE
Waht’s this?

PANEL 2:

Darrow is still standing, hands in his pockets, face still
in shadow (though his features are visible).  Wace is
looking up, shocked and annoyed.

DARROW
That’s tomorrow’s paper.

WACE
WHAT? But I never… this isn’t ME!

PANEL 3:

Darrow suddenly leans forward back into the light towards
Wace (and the reader), his palms on the bed, an intense look
on his face. Large panel because this is going to be a lot
of words.

DARROW
No, but it COULD be. You could be
the idiot on that front page,
grinning like a MONKEY and telling
a massive audience of slack jawed
tracksuit wearing INBREDS how brave
you’ve been and how you thank GOD
for this second chance. Give a few
interviews, get asked what you
think of the latest braindead pop
AUTOMATON, dance like a bear on a
string until they get sick of you.
Then during the last GASP of your
fifteen minutes you could go on
some horrible reality show like
“I’m a washed up manufactured
celebrity - Pay attention to me”.
Eventually the money and fame will
run OUT and you’ll be back at some
worthless office, listening to your
collegues SNIGGER behind your back
at “that guy did that thing on that
show”.

PAGE 13

PANEL 1:

Darrow is standing back up again, his face calm.

DARROW
Or that dim young man could become
the media’s plaything, I could pay
you twice what you’re earning now,
and YOU could have the chance to do
something worthwile with your so
far UNREMARKABLE life. Well?

PANEL 2:

EXT. WOOLWICH ARSENAL, DAY.

We’re back to the present day, a shot of Wace looking glum
as always as he stops reminicing.

DARROW (CAPTION)
…What do you say?

PANEL 3:

Wace is walking resolutely towards the source of the chaos.
In the background the cop that stopped him earlier is
running to catch up, one arm upraised as he calls out.

WACE
I should have taken the paper deal.

COP
Oy!

PANEL 4:

Wace has turned to face the policeman who has caught up with
him.

COP
You’re actually going in there?
You’re MAD, mate.

PANEL 5:

Wace shrugs.

WACE
PROBABLY, yeah.  I’ll be fine.

PANEL 6:

The cop looks skeptical.

COP
WILL you now?  In that case sir,
I’m coming WITH you.

PAGE 14

PANEL 1:

Wace is startled by this obvious madman, haf raising his
hands in defense as the cop points an accusing finger at
him.

WACE
What?  Listen, I…

COP
You’re the ONLY one around here who
seems to have any idea of what’s
going on, and you’re confident you
can just STROLL right into a
seriously weird situation that
no-one else can get NEAR.

PANEL 2:

Close on the cop, who is looking authoritive.

COP
So yes, sir.  I will be coming with
YOU.

PANEL 3:

Wace has resumed walking, a very sour look on his face, the
cop following behind trying his best to look resolute and
heroic.

WACE (CAPTION)
I REALLY should have taken the
paper deal.

PANEL 4:

Wide on Wace and the COP as they pick their way through the
blocks of flats towards the center of the event. They’re
more cautious now, spooked. There’s an eerie calm. Bodies
lie in the street. As we get away from the more crowded
section with the police etc, the world gets more washed out,
becoming almost greyscale. The sky is a bright grey now
rather than blue. The only bright spots of color are the
comatose victims and our protagonists.

PANEL 5:

Wace and COP.  Wace is looking down off-panel at one of the
victims, the COP is wide eyed and sweating, looking ill.
He’s got a lot further than anyone else due to Wace’s
proximity, but it’s starting to affect him now.

PANEL 6:

Shot of one of the victims, slumped like a rag-doll against
a wall, eyes open, a similar expression on their face to the
cop in panel 5, but with their mouth open in horror, drool
staining their shirt.

PAGE 15

PANEL 1:

Similar framing to panel 5 on page 12, except Wace has a
grim expression and looking straight ahead, and the Cop’s
eyes are rolling back in their sockets as he begins to
collapse.  Wace, of course, hasn’t noticed yet.

WACE
We’d better…

PANEL 2:

Wace has turned and is gasping in shock at the COP, who is
in mid-collapse, eyes rolled right back in his head,
frothing at the mouth.

WACE
Oh CHRIST!

PANEL 3:

Wace has caught the cop, but he’s not strong enough to hold
him up

WACE
Hold on mate… shit… um.. just
breathe…

WACE (CAPTION)
You idiot, that’s for pregnant
women.

PANEL 4:

Wace is crouching beside the COP, inexpertly making sure
he’s not dying.

WACE (CAPTION)
Jesus.. I wonder what he’s SEEING?

PANEL 5:

And now we see exactly what the cop is seeing, a full body
shot of him, his body distorting, his surrounds a
nightmarish world of weird geometry like every bad acid trip
anyone has ever had, his mouth open in a silent scream.

PAGE 16

PANEL 1:

Back to Wace, who’s standing looking down at the cop..
specifically at his gun.  He’s wondering if he should take
it, nervous about going that far but worried that he’ll run
into something he can’t deal with.

PANEL 2:

CU on the cop’s holster and anti-stab vest.  We can’t see
his face.  It’s obviously Wace’s POV.

PANEL 3:

Wace is walking away from the COP, wearing his vest, his
pistol in both hands, held down low.  Actually looking
reasonably badass for once.

PANEL 4:

Wace pushes open half of a large iron gate, big enough to
cover a steet. He’s reached the source of all this madness.

PANEL 5:

Wace has stepped into the compound and  is shocked at what
he sees, hand still resting on the gate.

PAGE 17

SPLASH PAGE

We’re looking down at a large open space, a carpark
surrounded by three story blocks of the old aresenal
buildings, now turned into apartments.

In the center lies Parfett, a slim figure in a long beige
coat and face-covering gas mask. The concrete around her has
shattered in crazy patterns like a mandala, like she’s been
dropped from a great height.

Around her lie the inhabitants of the apartments lying at
weird angles like they’re an extension of the pattern of the
cracked concrete. At the bottom of the frame stands Wace,
who’s now fully inside the gated community.

PAGE 18

PANEL 1

Wace is picking his way though the prone people, grimacing
as he looks down, making sure he doesn’t step on anyone’s
hand. Or face.

PANEL 2

Wace has reached Parfett, leaning down to pull her gasmask
up over her face.

PANEL 3

CU on Parfett, her eyes wide, staring unblinking in an
expression of horror.  She’s saying something but we  can’t
hear what it is, her speech bubble is just tiny lines like
text shrunk to nothing.

PANEL 4

Wace is standing up again, pointing the gun down at Parfett,
an agonized look on his face.

PANEL 5

CU on  the gun, Wace’s hands trembling around it. Will he
pull the trigger?

PANEL 6

A shot of the cop, still slumped and comatose, eyes open,
against the steps

PAGE 19

PANEL 1

…no, Wace can’t shoot.  He’s lowered the gun, his posture
slumped.  He’s not a stone cold killer. Maybe there’s
another way.

PANEL 2

Wace is back on the periphery where all the police and
emergency services are, looking a bit lost in all the chaos
as he approaches an ambulance worker.

WACE
Uh… excuse me?

PANEL 3

Low angle on Wace as he makes his way back through the
mandala of comatose people with an air-hypo in one hand,
walking like a man with a mission. He’s no longer wearing
the police vest or carrying the gun.

PANEL 4:

Wace has pulled down Parfett’s coat to expose her neck,
injecting the hypo into her jugular.

PAGE 20

PANEL 1:

CU on Parfett, who’s still got the same expression on her
face, eyes still open - but her mumbled words slowly trail
off into elipses.

PANEL 2:

Same as Panel 1, but now Parfett’s features have relaxed,
her eyes closed as she slips into unconciousness.

PANEL 3:

Large.  Wace is carrying Parfett is a slightly awkward
piggyback through the people that are now waking up from the
madness that incapacitated them.

PANEL 4:

The cop has woken up and is patting himself down, looking
startled. He’s got no recollection of collapsing or where
his gun or vest is.

COP
Whuh…

PANEL 5:

CU of the pistol lying on top of the vest on the footpath
just beside the still-befuddled officer.

PAGE 21

PANEL 1:

Parfett is being loaded into an ambulance on a stretcher.
Wace is in the background talking on his phone. He’s holding
it up to his ear, he can’t face a video call at the moment.

PANEL 2:

Closer on Wace as if we’ve zoomed in on him from Panel 1.

WACE
It’s sorted.

DARROW
(electric, from phone) Oh? Well
done, Wace. And just as I was about
to write you off.

PANEL 3:

INT DARROW’S OFFICE, DAY

CU on his phone, sitting on the edge of a polished dark
wooden desk. He’s got the same type of phone that Wace has.

WACE
(electric, from phone) I’ve sent
you the last photos.  Heading to
the hospital now, will keep you
informed.

DARROW
(from off panel) Yes yes, good job.
Goodbye Wace.

PANEL 4:

Darrow is silhouetted against the large windows at the end
of his office, some way behind his desk. The exterior is
just a white bloom, too bright for any details. It’s not one
large plate of glass, the windows start at about knee height
and are several rectangular sections, implying we’re not in
a modern office block but an older building.

PAGE 22

PANEL 1:

Profile of  Darrow standing at his windows, looking out. His
expression is unreadable.

VOICE FROM OFF PANEL
(from off panel) It’s happening
AGAIN, isn’t it?

PANEL 2:

Darrow half turns to face us/the person talking to him, his
face once more half in shadow.

DARROW
I think it may be, yes.

VOICE FROM OFF PANEL
(from off panel) So…

PANEL 3:

It’s Victory Ace! He’s dressed in his contempory uniform, a
high-color racing-style jacket and trousers. Green, with the
characteristic red and white V stripes across his chest.
Arms folded, looking stern. He’s almost glowing in the
light, very little shadows on him at all.

VICTORY ACE
…what shall we do about it?

PAGE 23

PANEL 1:

Darrow has returned to pick up his phone.

DARROW
I’m sure I’ll think of something.

PANEL 2:

CU of Darrow,  a tight smile on his face as he looks down at
the screen.

PANEL 3:

Darrow’s POV, holding his phone.  On the screen is a CU of
Parfett, unconcious in a stretcher, her brown hair tussled,
but otherwise serene.

DARROW
(off panel) Welcome back, Emily.

END

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