I’m a big fan of Dr. Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme of Marvel Comics. He’s just a cool guy, and I enjoy his origin. The urban mage is a fairly common archetype in comics, from Dr. Fate to Zatanna and Harry Potter (I love Zatanna, too; the backwords-speak spells and fishnet/top hat combo do it for me I guess). Magic is always fun, of course, simply because its only limits are your own imagination. But with the urban mage you have a chance to create characters that readers can actually identify with. Plus the chance to give these sorts of characters, who usually have over-the-top powers and are deeply rooted in ancient traditions and so forth, modern dialogue and problems is just too fun.
So I’ve created my own little contemporary sorcerer, Sevastian Dušan, Mystic Extraordinaire and forward for the minor league hockey team Vancouver Cougars. The thought of a guy in his full hockey dress casting spells with a magic hockey stick amuses me. No helmet, though. That hockey hair needs to fly free. Here’s the opening to a story with him. I’m kind of stuck on it at the moment, with only vague ideas on how to go on.
Samantha wrapped both arms around Dušan’s leg and squeezed. Her legs wildly bicycled in empty air. All around them, the sky was alive with chaotic liquid color; if Samantha stared at one spot for more than a few seconds, a few dozen shades would flow past. They were encased; she couldn’t see the ground or empty sky at all. Dušan held them aloft with one hand, though Samantha couldn’t see what supported them—he gripped nothing but empty air. His free hand held his hockey stick.
Samantha took deep breaths and with incredible willpower stilled her legs. Surely, she thought, this was an everyday occurrence in his line of work.
“That’s a great grip you’ve got there,” she called, feeling the need to voice her faux calm.
Dušan nodded absently, his eyes scanning the color globe. “Must be the Spider-Man boxers I’m wearing,” he said. Then he slipped, plunging them into an abyss of pink and yellow.