Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips continue to do everything right with the second installment in their hardcover series for Image. This time around it’s 1985 and freelance badass Ethan Reckless must go up against skinheads and Satanists to solve the mystery of a missing starlet.

Fantagraphics has released a gorgeous boxed set of the entirety of Peter Bagge’s Hate—three volumes and 30 years of comics to enjoy. For those perhaps unfamiliar with what many regard as an essential alternative comic from the ’90s, Hate follows the escapades of Buddy Bradley, whose slacker tendencies are only overshadowed by his odd fits of rage, horniness, helplessness, and, occasionally, ambition.

Does recasting the story of Mr. Freeze, the Batman nemesis, and his cryopreserved wife as a tragic teen romance give it more “oomph” than a similar story minus the Gotham mythos? Or does our preexisting knowledge of Victor Fries offer shortcuts into his character, perhaps allowing author Lauren Myracle to largely concentrate on the life of Nora instead?

The latest in the rather depressing misadventures of Megg and Mogg, who at least outwardly present as a witch and cat, respectively, sees the protagonists’ lives continue to flush down the toilet.

So much of the superhero genre is “been there, done that”—it’s hard to find something that’s at the same time original, compelling, and yet fits into the relatively narrow sweet spot beloved by fans of mainstream capes and tights comics.

A return to DC’s classic property, the heroes of the future, this time headed by writer Brian Michael Bendis and artists Ryan Sook (pencils, inks), Wade Von Grawbadger (also inks), and Jodie Bellaire (colors).

Collecting the first six issues of the series by writer Jody LeHeup, artist Nathan Fox, and colorist Dave Stewart, The Weatherman scratched our sci-fi/action/adventure itch better than anything has since Schwarzenegger’s big-screen heyday.

Shanghai Red, written by Christopher Sebela, with art by Hassan Otsmane-Elhaou and Joshua Hixson, is a bloody revenge story set in 19th century Portland.

Ye, by Guilherme Petreca, is a really gorgeous book; the art is idiosyncratic—both cartoony and lush—and lends itself very well to the fable/fairy tale-esque storytelling regarding a mostly mute man who is grappling with the influence of The Colorless King—which is revealed, at least for Ye, to be something close to PTSD.