Clockwork Angels: Comic Script (8 page)

Small panel, close-up of Owen’s foot on the rope.

PANEL 7

Owen sways back on the small platform. He is very embarrassed. Francesca can be out of the panel.

OWEN

I can’t …

FRANCESCA

Maybe next time …

PAGE 9

PANEL 1

Dusk, at camp. The crowds are gone; Tomio’s trailer, a hodgepodge laboratory and residence. Wisps of nasty-looking green-brown smoke curl up from the window of Tomio’s trailer, as well as a bright flash of light. From the crooked chimney/air vent in the roof, an entirely different smoke wafts out, this one lavender.

SFX

THHHHHWUMMMMP

PANEL 2

In the middle of their chores (setting up, cooking, practicing games, everyday stuff) the other carnies look up, undisturbed, some looking annoyed (“Not again…”). Owen is the only one who seems alarmed as he dashes toward the trailer. Louisa and Golson the strongman are standing nearby, not terribly impressed. Golson’s nose is wrinkled in distaste.

OWEN

That’s Tomio’s trailer!

LOUISA

He’s at it again with those experiments of his.

GOLSON

This one smells worse than they usually do …

PANEL 3

Big panel. Owen has flung open the door and stands at the threshold, but the main focus of the panel is the interior of Tomio’s trailer, an alchemy lab and a library, all kinds of pots and beakers spread out on the table, bookshelves filled with impressive-looking tomes on the wall. Tomio looks singed, rumpled, and flustered. But the really cool thing is that the air is full of ethereal bright flame sprites, like small fiery hummingbird elementals flitting about.

OWEN

Tomio! What happened? Are you all right?

TOMIO

Well, it worked …

TOMIO

Sometimes I don’t know as much about alchemy as I think. But sometimes I do.

PANEL 4

Tomio pulls a thick leatherbound volume from his shelf (we only see the spine, not the front) while Owen swats at a pesky fire sprite.

TOMIO

There’s still plenty to discover. I went to the Alchemy College, but didn’t fit in.

TOMIO

I even had an apprentice here at the carnival …

PANEL 5

Close-up of Tomio; he looks grave, disturbed. There is a smudge/singe on one side of his face.

TOMIO

D’Angelo Misterioso
 … The Mysterious Angel. Too impulsive. Too ambitious. Too unsteady.

TOMIO

I had to make him leave. It was … unpleasant.

PANEL 6

Tomio places the book down on his workbench. (Panel focuses in on only the book; not much other background is necessary.) On the cover is embossed the alchemical symbol for PRECIPITATE, the Anarchist’s symbol with stacked dots inside an open square. The reader will recognize this from the tattoo on his hand.

TOMIO (OFF PANEL)

He was dangerous then. He is worse now.

PAGE 10

PANEL 1

It’s dark outside. Owen crouches beside the red-enameled side of the gypsy fortune-teller’s booth. He is turning the wind-up key in the side.

PANEL 2

Small panel. Inside the booth, the fortune-teller’s gnarled, ringed hand whirrs and twitches over her spread-out tarot cards. (If you show any of the cards, use drawings from inside the
Vapor Trails
lyrics booklet. I can provide scans if you need them, Nick.)

SFX

Whhrrrrrrrrrr

PANEL 3

Owen sits back, hunkering down with his back to us, gazing up at the glass window that now illuminates the old fortune teller; he looks like a kid entranced by a TV.

OWEN

I know you’re alive in there … really alive. Francesca even told me you’re her great-great grandmother.

PANEL 4

Fortune teller in her box. This panel should be similar to Hugh Syme’s painting of the fortune teller in the novel.

FORTUNE TELLER

I am many things … I was one of the Watchmaker’s early experiments.

PANEL 5

Close-up of the Fortune Teller’s withered face, tight in on her eyes, glowing with a strange blue, an evil-looking expression.

FORTUNE TELLER

He was desperate.

PANEL 6

Owen is rapt, looking up at her.

OWEN

Desperate … How can that be? And you’re so old—do you remember the ancient times before the Stability? Before the Watchmaker?

[LINK]

Were they terrible?

PANEL 7

Fortune Teller’s face, eyes closed as if in a sigh, remembering.

FORTUNE TELLER

Oh, yes, I remember those times. But they weren’t all terrible.

FORTUNE TELLER

I wish that I could live it all again.

PANEL 8

Small panel: the windup key runs down.

PAGE 11

PANEL 1

Small panel, close-in, Golson’s taped fist SLAMS into a straw-stuffed sack. We just see the fist and the impact.

SFX

WHAMMM

PANEL 2

Pull back to show full scene, the straw-filled body-sized punching bag, Golson in just his trunks hammering at it, working up a sweat. Owen is standing nearby, watching. Daylight, early morning.

GOLSON

Gotta get pumped up on show day. *Oof* Loosen up before the crowds come in. *Uhh*

PANEL 3

Different angle, Owen watches as Golson continues his workout.

OWEN

You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, Golson.

GOLSON

You’re strong, too, kid. I can see it, but don’t be afraid of your strength. *Ooof* Don’t be afraid to be
strong
. Here, let me show you.

PANEL 4

Owen, looking scrawny beside Golson, does his best to hammer the bag, with Golson standing behind him, helping, grinning.

OWEN

You’ve all made me stronger. I feel at home here … Home. Though I do miss Barrel Arbor.

OWEN

*Sigh* And today is my birthday.

PANEL 5

A big table, one of the trestle tables seen on page 1, but this one has a large birthday cake in the middle of it filled with candles. All of our favorite carnie characters are around. It’s late at night, to imply this is later, after the day’s show.

ALL

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OWEN HARDY!

PAGE 12

PANEL 1

Dressed in his dashing tails, top hat, huge mustache, Cesar Magnusson.

CESAR MAGNUSSON

Let this be a special carnie celebration for you. Your first birthday among us … as one of us!

PANEL 2

Goofing off, the clowns flounce past; Leke has on a ridiculous raven haired wig and the metal-slatted Angel wings (obviously pretending to be Francesca) who struts along, head held high, and ignoring Peke who wears a porkpie hat and stumbles along in “Francesca’s” wake, like a mooncalf, while Deke follows, waving a piece of birthday cake on a plate.

DEKE

Happy birthday! Hey, don’t you want your present?

PANEL 3

Francesca laughs at the joke, while Owen looks horribly embarrassed, tries to shrink down into himself, and mutters.

OWEN

I have no idea what that’s all about …

PANEL 4

Still laughing, Francesca stuffs a piece of cake in his face.

FRANCESCA

Yes, you do. Eat your cake.

PANEL 5

Later, Owen has followed Francesca to her tent. They are all alone. She pauses outside.

FRANCESCA

You really have changed things around here, Owen Hardy. I hope we made your birthday special.

PANEL 6

Standing at her tent, she opens the flap, holds it invitingly as she looks at him.

FRANCESCA

Come inside. I have something else for you …

PAGE 13

PANEL 1

THE WATCHMAKER—use the same graphic conceit as in previous issues, a background pattern to show that this is the Watchmaker’s section.

At his desk, the Watchmaker stands holding a piece of paper in his hands, a report. Trick the view so we see that this is a longish sheet of paper, but cannot see the bottom of it. In one or more panels on this page or next, try to show Martin the Dalmatian curled up and motionless on the floor.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

In youth, one might search for riches. In middle age, a man might want power. Now, after two centuries of life, I consider TIME to be the most precious thing.

PANEL 2

A black-uniformed Regulator Captain appears in the workroom, presenting his report. The Watchmaker looks up from his paper (again, we don’t see much of the paper).

GUARD CAPTAIN

Sir, we have dispatched the invitation, as you requested. The Magnusson Carnival Extravaganza has been invited to a special performance in your honor.

WATCHMAKER

Good. See that Chronos Square is prepared.

PANEL 3

Another shot of the Guard and the Watchmaker, waist-high only.

GUARD CAPTAIN

But if I may ask, sir? Why this particular carnival?

WATCHMAKER

The universe has a plan, Captain. It is not yours to understand.

PANEL 4

Pull back to reveal that the paper the Watchmaker is holding is just the end of a LONG printout of paper, like a wide sheet of tickertape, that curls around his desk and trails across the room and off into the corridor, seemingly infinite.

WATCHMAKER

Rest assured that I have reviewed all the details …

GUARD CAPTAIN

All is for the best.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

TIME. Precious time. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

PANEL 5

The Watchmaker looks up, wistful. Around him, instead of the workroom, we see a sepia-toned [or could be black-and-white…even a rosy wash, to distinguish from pp 1-2 of issue 1] flashback of a cute little girl running through a field of flowers, with her young father (the Watchmaker) looking on with an indulgent smile.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

In an early experiment, I used all the secrets of alchemy to keep my dear daughter alive, even when she did not wish it. Every father would have done the same.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

I paid the price. I did not count the cost. I saved her … and I lost her.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

Now she lives, travels with the carnival as a strange and ancient curiosity. I see her when I can.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

She knows I am watching.

PAGE 14

PANEL 1

In his large tower workroom, the old Watchmaker sits at a worktable, hunched over a complicated apparatus. He has a weird multi-lensed contraption strapped to his head as he peers down at the apparatus, using both hands with delicate tools. More tools are arrayed on the table around him. The apparatus is the clockwork heart of one of the Angels.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

Wheels within wheels …

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

Only I understand the intricacies and precision required to keep the perfect machinery in motion.

PANEL 2

Close-up, the Watchmaker’s hands working tools, probing inside the Angel’s heart, which is crystalline, filled with gems and tiny watchgears. The Watchmaker’s sleeves go all the way to his wrists. The heart is not glowing, just dead machinery at the moment.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

Sloppy work is the work of chaos.

PANEL 3

Close-up, the Watchmaker’s head in profile, staring intently down at the contraption.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

I make sacrifices. I do what is necessary …

PANEL 4

The Watchmaker reaches up to adjust one of the lenses, bringing a red lens down into place. As he does so, his sleeve slips down his arm, and we can see that his arm is laced with blue-glowing tubes, support struts, clockwork gears. He’s partially a clockwork device, too!

PANEL 5

Fastidious, the Watchmaker tugs the sleeve back down to his wrist to cover up the clockwork.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

 … no matter what it does to me.

PANEL 6

He deftly clicks the fragile and beautiful mechanical heart closed.

SFX

Snik

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

A truly loving Watchmaker cannot grow complacent.

PAGE 15

PANEL 1

The Watchmaker pours a vial of glowing blue liquid (like what he poured into the back hatch of Martin the dog in issue 1) into an opening in the heart contraption.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

My Angels represent each of the four elements: Light. Sea. Sky. Land.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

Only I control the fifth element. The quintessence.
Life
.

PANEL 2

The Watchmaker walks up into the clocktower. He holds the glowing, crystalline, jewel-like, throbbing mechanical clockwork heart in his hands, like a triumph. In the background we see one of the Angels in her alcove, facing away from us, surrounded by shadow.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

The Angels, my beautiful Angels …

PANEL 3

The Watchmaker stands at the stone back of one of the Angels, where there is a hinged opening. He inserts the mechanical heart into her back.

CAPTION (WATCHMAKER)

My most perfect accomplishment.

PANEL 4

Big dramatic panel: The Watchmaker stands back as the Angel glows with light (still facing away from us). Her stone wings spread out gloriously as she stretches.