Everything that happened after that felt like someone had hit the fast-forward button. The monster shouted at Lonnie, the force coming out in a destructive wave that shattered everything in its path. Lonnie jumped out of the way, then dodged another attack, and another, making it look as easy as playing a game of hopscotch. As soon as she got close to the monster she jammed her knee into its stomach. The monster stumbled back and let out a harsh cough, but Lonnie didn’t give it a chance to recover. One punch to the face, followed by a second, and a third, all Marianna and Bree could do was stare as Lonnie continued to hit her opponent so hard that they could hear her fists crunching into its skin. Finally, Lonnie landed a swift kick across the monster’s cheek, the power in her kick so hard that the creature was knocked out cold immediately.

“Holy shit,” Bree whispered. The creature’s face was now bruised beyond recognition, and it didn’t look like it was going to get up anytime soon. She’d never actually seen one of the monsters lay lifelessly on the ground — Marianna’s acidic frosting always made quick work of them. But there it was, mouth wide open, stomach caved in from the crushing blow from earlier. Marianna looked just as bewildered as Bree, but neither girl had time to dwell on the monster in front of them. Dana was already up cheering for Lonnie, and everyone who had gone inside of the store was stepping outside to see the aftermath of the one-sided battle. The rest of the crowd joined Dana in cheering for Lonnie, who stood there and smiled an embarrassed little smile. Both Marianna and Bree looked at each other and quietly wondered the same thing.

Had Blaze sent in a new magical girl?

magnifiqueNOIR episode five: Magical Kickboxer Lonnie Knox

Art by MuseTap Studios

Indiegogo campaign is HERE

Fun story time! So that quote I posted from Whoopi Goldberg about Star Trek and seeing a black lady on T.V. who wasn’t a maid? Here’s my moment like that.

When I was a kid I watched a bunch of cartoons (when I was a kid, lol I still watch a lot of cartoons). Then I remember hearing about this new show called “X-Men.” I wasn’t big into comics at the time (just the occasional Sonic the Hedgehog one), but I just thought it looked like a cool show. 

Then I saw Storm and flipped out. 

I couldn’t believe she was black! And just as powerful as everyone else, and intelligent too! Before that the only black lady I remember seeing in my cartoons was the woman in Tom and Jerry that showed up sometimes like, “Thoooomas!” You never saw her face. Ever. You saw her from the waist down, and she carried a broom around and would like, swat him with it if he was acting up. That was about it. I mean there were black men like Fat Albert and stuff, and even some random sports cartoon with Michael Jordan (before Space Jam, it was some random sports superhero show?) and even MC Hammer had a cartoon (no joke, look it up). But a woman? A black woman? With powers too? Who would fight too? 

I just stared at the T.V. for a long time. 

I mean growing up, I didn’t really realize how much I wanted a black girl in my geekery until I saw Storm. I had this huge WOW moment, then kinda went, “… wow wait is this the only one in my geekery?” And it really was. Like I didn’t think about how that made me feel until that first episode when they’re in the mall and the Sentinels show up and she transforms into Storm, it was like, “Holy shit no way, no way! She’s not just a background character shopping at the mall?!” Then there was this moment of, “… wow this is the first time I have seen a black woman be something important in my cartoons.”

I think this is why I love Tiana so much (besides other reasons of her just being a great character). But now I’m old enough to appreciate how her presence effects people. Like now some kid is going to go into the Disney store and see her doll like, “WOW,” like I did with Storm all those years ago. Like now when the family goes to Disney world and sees the princesses, she’ll be there  :)  I mean I love all of the princesses, you know, but that just hits home. Like, “Hey sweetie, there’s one that looks like you, and she’s just as special as all the other ones." 

O.K. sappy moment over now.

When I was nine years old, Star Trek came on. I looked at it and I went screaming through the house, “Come here, mum, everybody, come quick, come quick, there’s a black lady on television and she ain’t no maid!”

I knew right then and there I could be anything I wanted to be.

— Whoopi Goldberg

You know, someday, with my books and everything else, I want to be in a post like this  :)

acceptscreditsanddick:

queennubian:

fatality

J

Wow lots of reblogs this morning.  But this, this this this.  This.  This is why it’s hard being a cosplaying geeky black girl, because this is the expectation.  Right here.  I once had a customer tell me to my face when I worked at GameStop, “I just assumed a woman like you wouldn’t have time for games.”  Woman like me?  You don’t even know me, sir, we’ve talked for thirty seconds, and that entire time was spent with you asking me, “Do you even play games?”  You think because I’m a black woman that I don’t know what a PS3 is?  Oh wait, you assume I know because of the children I obviously have, or the boyfriend, right?  (I’ve gotten this one a lot, too).

Even with the book coming out, I’ve been asked what it’s about and when I go, “It’s an urban supernatural murder mystery where animals come to life,” I get weird looks.  No guys, it’s not one of those “angry black woman” stories.  I’m not writing about how someone “did me wrong” because, honestly, I’ve never really experienced that to the point of wanting to add to the literature about it.  Has someone done me wrong in my lifetime?  Hell yeah.  But you know what my muses want to write about?  Birds coming to life.  Because that’s just who I am.  I’m weird and geeky and would rather write about an extinct species of animal turning into a hot guy than how my ex-boyfriend stopped talking to me because I wouldn’t sleep with him.

And before you ask, no, the murder scenes are not symbolism to some repressed memory of someone treating me like crap and me taking out my aggression on them.

It’s a double-edged sword, really.  If I don’t write about it then I’m weird because, clearly, all black women are “angry.”  However, if I do write about it it’s, “Ugh just another angry black woman.”  And that’s not just from the white perspective, but from the black perspective too.  My mom, my own mom, flat out told me, “I get so tired of those stories, I’m glad you’re writing something different.”  Now am I saying that there aren’t reasons for black women to be “angry?”  No, of course not, because there are – trust me, this post proves it.  Just don’t assume that every black woman you see is holding a grudge against someone and is going to set their car on fire.

Honestly?  All PEOPLE have reason to be angry, not just us.  But that’s the stereotype established.  It’s a blessing and a curse, I guess.  Don’t mess with us, yes, sure, that’s fine.  But at the same time don’t assume that I’m here to rip your head off, because I’m not.  Just like we won’t assume that all white men are out to get us.  Not all white men follow that stereotype of being on top of the world and being assholes.  And you’ve all seen those posts on tumblr, of the white guy posting about how he’s been discriminated against or hurt or pushed around and the responses of, “Oh cry me a river white boy you know nothing about pain.”  Guess what?  Pain and hurt don’t discriminate.  It could give a flying fuck about what color you are or what gender you are.  Anyone can be hurt, can be angry, can be whatever emotion they want, so just stop this nonsense already.