Blake leans over, making sure to cover his mic. “Why don’t you take the jet with us back? We’ve got room. And a fully stocked bar.”
Bertram wilts in dramatic relief. “Bless you, Blake.”
I grin at Blake, and he winks at me. If he’s been hoping to get my old friend’s favor, he’s definitely on the right track.
Peter Dryden himself takes his seat moments later. “My apologies to all of you for running late,” he says in his deep, self-important tone. “I had a reunion shoot with all the otherCuffsstars, and you know how fans of such a long-running, popular series can be, they just—”
Fortunately, the moderator starts before Peter can drone on about his mob of ancient cop show fans. It’s the same moderator as our last panel, Jai the podcaster, and he seems just as peppy and upbeat. Of course, he didn’t spend the last few hours smiling for photos or getting hand-cramps from hundreds of signatures.
“I could give you all an intro of these people sitting right here next to me,” Jai says with a big grin, “but you guys wouldn’t have paid three hundred bucks a seat if you didn’t already know. So lets go straight to what you really want—and I don’t mean a date with Blake Pless, ladies.”
The crowd laughs, and Blake gives a nice self-aware wave. I feel a little more relaxed. Jai’s good at this; I can see why his podcast is so big.
“What you really want,” he continues, “is to ask these fine folks all your burning questions about the upcoming Hemlock/Farpoint movie. So let’s not waste any of that expensive time, yeah? Ask away!”
I’m a little worried about questions being shouted at us en masse like so often happens with the paparazzi, but this crowd’s been prepped beforehand to raise their hands and wait for the convention workers standing at the edges to pass them the wireless mic.
A big guy with a kind, bearded face and a Hemlock t-shirt gets the mic first. “So any chance we get a date with Kim?” he asks.The crowd laughs, and several guys whistle.
I laugh as well, especially when Blake leans into his microphone and says in this perfectly droll tone, “No.”
More laughs and cheers.
“Worth a try,” the big guy says with a grin. “Honestly, I don’t have a question. I just want to say that I’ve always been a major Hemlock fan—and Kim, you just kill it in this role. I’m a fan of Hannah’s work, and I can’t wait to see this movie.”
“Aww, thanks so much,” I say, grinning back at him. “I can’t wait for you all to see it, too. We’re having such a great time.”This isn’t entirely true—being back with Blake aside—but in this moment I can almost believe it.This is going well.
The next person stands up, a tall, lanky guy wearing bulky foam armor and with a matching sword strapped across his back. “I disagree,” he says, with no other preamble. “This movie concept makes no sense whatsoever. Farpoint and Hemlock don’t belong in the same universe.This whole thing is a mockery to the fans of both comics.”
My eyes widen. Damn, nothing like going straight for the jugular. Did this guy really pay three hundred bucks just to say that to us?
“Well, a lot of fans of Hannah’s brilliant webcomic would disagree,”Troy says smoothly, but I can almost hear his teeth grinding. “And while we all realize this is a unique departure from the stories in the traditional comics, I think when you watch the finished film, you’ll see that mockery of fans is the furthest thing from any of our minds. We’re bringing the best of both comics’ worlds together in a really fantastic story.”
“I agree,” a teenage girl on the other side of the room dressed in a Sailor Moon costume says, andTroy starts to thank her before she shakes her head. “With the guy with the sword, I mean. Guidepost is the one sending Farpoint to Earth? Hannah Verhoeven isn’t arealfan. If she was, she’d know fromFarpointIssueThree-Nineteen that Guidepost can’t send people to other dimensions without the Helm of Engolos, which was destroyed by Farpoint himself. Did he somehow reforge the helm? From what—anew cosmic ore?” Her voice drips with sarcasm, and several people clap.
I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I’m glad for poor startled Hannah’s sake that she isn’t on this panel.
Troy opens his mouth, but Bertram leans in. “If I may,” he says, andTroy nods.
“When it comes to adaptations such as this,” Bertram says, “there is a certain amount of allowance for artistry that must be given—”
“Artistry, indeed,” Peter jumps in, clapping Bertram on the back with a loud smack. “And let me tell you, I can’t speak to Guidepost’s powers or whatever headwear is required, but I can tell you all about the art of making a film such as this. My dear friend Bertram and I, we have a saying about the art, and—”
“Wait,” the guy with the sword interrupts, which is probably a good thing. Bertram is squeezing his water bottle like he’s about to bludgeon Peter Dryden with it. “Are you saying that you—the actor playing Guidepost—don’t know about his powers? See?” He gestures to the audience, many of whom are looking increasingly angry themselves, and there’s a low sound of muttering around the room.The tides are turning against us quickly. “None of you care about the actual source material!”
Peter’s mouth is working soundlessly, seemingly shocked at how little these people care about his supposed dear friendship with Bertram or his views on the art of filmmaking.
Troy glares at him, then tries to smooth out that glare for the audience. “As I said before, I think you’ll find when you see the film that all of us involved care deeply about these characters and—”
“What about Laserpoint?” A girl wearing a giant robot suit—is she one of theTransformers?—has somehow gotten the mic from Sailor Moon without it first going through the convention volunteers, the closest of which is trying to wedge himself into the aisle to regain the mic and thus control. “She’s way better for Farpoint, and she’s actually in his universe. She should be the one Farpoint is with, not Hemlock.”
“I should be the one Blake Pless is with!” another girl with long purple hair from the second row shouts, sans mic. She stands up so we—and I’m guessing especially Blake—can see the ample amount of cleavage formed by her tight corset. And the word BLAKE written across the top of said cleavage in sparkly glitter.
Blake chuckles self-consciously—he always gets a little uncomfortable around the more, well,overtfans.
I lean into my mic and do a spot-on imitation of Blake from before. “No.”
This gets some laughter, but it’s obvious that many of them are now too worked up with their issues about the movie.
