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Invaders from the Great Beyond-Part One.

It's just a regular day in the appliance repair store-turned secret base for the heroic Trio of Breguet, Rigger and Charmer. After doing some routine patrolling, tune-ups on the machinery, it becomes 2:30, a time for a quick lunch. As Rigger makes a sammich, Breguet lights up for his after-lunch smoke, and Charmer has some lovely tea, A CROSS-DIMENSIONAL PORTAL RIPS THEIR TABLE IN TWAIN!
A large cloud of white smoke shrouds two silhouettes from the Trio, as they ready an attack on the pair of foreign invaders. As the smoke cleared, one of the two was wearing a large novelty hat and the other held in his hands a giant pencil.
A few nano-seconds pass, and the Hatted One coughs rather loudly and then mumbles something to the One with the Pencil, who quietly says "Hello." The Trio jump at his speech, shocked at the way they sound and look. As the dust and smoke settled, the Pair looked as though they were from illustrations of children's books, being more colourful than a regular human and looking somewhat sketched on the outside. "pleasedon'tshootuspleasedon'tshootuspleasedon'tshootus" said the Hatted One frantically.
"Chill, Hatso." said the Pencil Wielding One. "They can't hurt us"
"Are you sure?"
"Then why'd you say that?"
"So they would think they couldn't hurt us."
"But they can!"
"Yeah, because you made me tell you!"
"Well why didn't you just lie to me, Artie?"
"Because...shut up, that's why."
"ENOUGH!" Shouted Charmer, who was quite pissed, to say the least. He spoke the certain way he does when he wishes to use his Power of Persuasion, and calmly stated "You will tell us who you are, what you are doing here and then you will leave, and never come back."
The Pencil-Wielding One, whose name was Artie was unaffected by Charmer said "I wish we could tell you what we're doing here, but we aren't leaving. My name is Artie, and my over-reacting chum here is Hatso Dashery."
"Hey." said Hatso, nervously.
Rigger, who was ready with his Zapper-Fingers since the pair poofed into the room looked strangely at Hatso, who did the same. "Artie" he whispered, "who does Robot-Arm look like to you?"
"You." Artie replied after taking a glance at the two of them over and over.
"Holy crabcakes." said both Rigger and Hatso, and at the same time, too.

After a few hours of explaining that somehow the pair of adventurers had been reality-hopping, and that their reality was bursting at the seams, so Artie drew up a some zippers to contain it, and then they got stuck outside of their reality, so Artie drew a door, and how they had been hopping through the multiple realities, and that the reality they are from looks like a giant Storybook and their magical abilities. So after tedious and pedantic explanation, as Artie was prone to do, Only Artie and Charmer understood what was going on. "So, anything you draw comes to life?" said Breguet.
"Anything I draw or Write." Replied Artie.
"And you. Yer thing is hats?" asked Rigger, still entranced at how alike he looked to Hatso.
"Yeah, every hat I own is stored in my hatbox." said Hatso, who pulled out a box big enough for one hat, put his novelty fuzzy hat he was wearing in it, shut it and then asked for a profession. "Racecar driver" said Breguet. Hatso looked at the box, said "Racecar driver" to it, and pulled out a racing helmet. Then, he put it on, and the couch he sat on turned into a car. After he took the helmet off, he put it back, and the couch reverted to its former state.
Needless to say, the room fell silent, save Artie chuckling softly. "He's great at parties." he said.
"Okayokayokay, but one thing," said Rigger, still confused. "that box can only fit one hat. How many do you own? And how did you do that?" Hatso then said "Well, to be honest, I've lost count at ten-thousand-'n-six. I figure there are at least a kajillion hats in there. And yes, kajillion is a number. Also, I have a portal into my own dimension where all of my hats are. I call it the Hth dimension." The room was silent like before, except for Artie, who was still lightly chuckling.
Artie, who walked into the kitchen to fix some drinks,noticed the table was split in twain from their unannounced entry. He then shouted "Do you guys want this table fixed, or do you want a new one?" No response. So, Artie took out a pad of paper and drew a new table for them and set the pad down on the floor. He then hit the drawing with his foot. After a puff of smoke and a poof of magic, the broken table was on the sheet of paper and a new one was in its place. Artie then erased the broken table and put his pad of paper away.

"Well, we haven't been 'ported to another reality yet, so I guess we'll be stayin' he for a while." said Hatso "It wouldn't be a burden to you to let us crash here, would you? All of the realities are coded, and if we were to get the number of ours, Artie could draw up a door and we'd be outta your hair."
So the heroes agreed to let them stay for a bit.



Crawford Collins: Mechanical whiz-bang and recently-outfitted cyborg know as the incredible, talented machinist Rigger, who uses his smarts, gadgets, and own brand of 'Professional Herory' to his advantage in fighting crime.

Andre Duchampe: French F-1 Racer who quit the circuit for "Not being able to go fast enough" on the track legally, built a blazing-fast Jetpack lovingly named Sophie and is now known as Breguet, who apprehends criminals faster than you can count to trois.

Oliver Glinton: An over two-hundred year-old English gentleman who knows more languages than Crawford and Andre put together, age-old fencing techniques, can cite literature a the drop of a hat, and has the uncanny ability to persuade anyone into doing as he says. He's also immortal... so far.

Clint Gabriels: Is better known as the Private Eye Noir. His hunches and deadeye accuracy with a pistol have led him to many a casebreaker. He lives in the 'Black'n'White' district of Biscayne, where there are only three colours; Black, White, and Grey.

Hatso Dashery: Is half of the pair that is from the Storybook-verse (Labeled FBL-3148) Whose ability is to tap into magical properties of every single hat he owns, which are all stored in his magical hatbox that holds a portal to the Hth Dimension.

Artie: Also from the Storybook-verse, Artie is a character who wields a magical Pencil that brings to life anything he draws or writes. He is usually the one who bails Hatso out of his problems.

Rudie McHugh:One hell of a party animal, Rudie has the power to duplicate himself up to eleven times (as per rules of FIFA and football in general) and is best described as a "Soccer Hooligan" his episodes are often because he has been drinking heavily and has gotten into a barfight or two. Rudie usually is not as problematic as the papers make him out to be.

Lawrence Carlton: A pencil-pusher in a multi-million dollar corporation, Lawrence was nearing retirement, but his pension was altered. To combat this more directly, Larry took some household magnetic grabbers and tinkered with them enough to have them lift things up to three-hundred pounds, which he uses to rob his company's banks as the villain 'Mag-Nut'

Albert Martell: Albert 'Mach' Martell was a professional boxer out of the slums of lower Biscayne, whose career took a dive when he refused to, as per his crooked manager's orders from the Mafia. After winning the match he was told to give up, he was parted with his moneymakers, his hands. After coming to Rigger for some new prosthetic ones, he met an old man by the name of Jakob Amsel who made him want revenge on the people who cost him his career. Both the Mafia and Rigger, whose mechanical hands were deemed 'unfair advantages' by the Boxing Commission, are now on Knockout's list of people who need to take a dive permanently.

Jakob Amsel: A hundred-and-ten year old man looking to live forever no matter the cost. Now known as Biotech, Amsel hunts Breguet, Rigger, and Charmer for their assets that he can assimilate into his body. If you can still say he even has one.

Sacha Zupan: The ballet starlet out of Croatia, Sacha was set to perform at the illustrious Biscayne Menagerie Theatre, but a freak accident with faulty lighting caused her to be horribly scarred and vengeful. She used her various swordfighting routines to help her with grace and poise for her ballet, but now uses them to exact revenge as Sheath. Her attack on Rigger, who was involved in the Theatre's construction, caused him to need new cybernetic limbs after she was stopped.

Abel Koening: A performer from an old circus troupe now long dissolved, Abel uses the famed Gem of Echo to control a circus of criminals as the villainous Ringleader

A message from the Pyro.

Mmmph mmmph muummphmuuuuummph!

Mummphmummmph mumumumumumumph murnph murrlnph murlurmumph.

Crystal clear?

Writer's Block: Half a Glass

Do you consider yourself an optimist, a pessimist, or a realist?

I call myself a realist, but it's mostly pessimism.

Writer's Block: Left Behind

What do you want done with your body after you die?

This would all take place AFTER my funeral, which would be a GIANT PARTY.

Use the organs for donations and things, since I'm gonna donate 'em anyway.
Afterward, cut the rest up after removing all the bones and whatnot, into three parts, except my head.

Part One: Viking That Beast
Set my head atop a boat with some stuff. Not my stuff necessarily, but weird things, too. Then torch it and let the boat go out in the middle of Lake Champlain.

Part Two: Location, Location, Location
Cremate this part.
Throw a dart onto a spinning globe. The closest country it hits would be chosen, and I would like to be flown up in a helicopter and those ashes be dumped on a mountain range or something in that area.

Part Three: Posthumous Astronaut
Send another cremated portion into space and shoot it to the Moon.

Part Four: Down to Earth
Bury my final part in the cemetery next to my grandfather, so people will also remember the logical, calm and serious side of me.

I've put far too much thought into this.

It's Lonely Out in Space/Showtime

Houston, when am I scheduled to land?
I'm all alone up here in the capsule,
There's plenty of O2 and provisions,
But I just want to come back to Earth.
My mission ended months ago,
Why do you keep me up here?
Is this Broadcast even getting through, Houston?

The song listed inspired the space theme, since the beginning of St. Elsewhere sounds like a rocket taking off in the background.

Continuing in this vein...

It's almost time
The lights are up
Full blast
Do you have your costume on yet?
Get that mask on, quick!
Get that foundation on the dancers!
Where's our lead?
There you are!
Put on your Show Face!
"Hello everyone!" says the Actor,
Barely keeping in character.
"Welcome to tonight's Production!"
Slightly more convincing.
"We perform it with Pride and Dignity!"
Even better still.
"Now, let's get on with the show, shall we?"
Applause smothers the thoughts
Of uncertainty in his head.
"We begin Act One, in the setting of,well, life!"
He becomes so convincing,
He forgets to break character
At the end of the show.
Nobody notices, however.
At first, not even the Actor.
Years later, he's still got his
Show Face on.
But he remembers,
It's all an Act.

This was inspired by the second listed song,
and how acting is nothing more than putting on a face for the crowds.

Writer's Block: Tricky Questions

What is your first reaction when someone says "I need to talk to you"?

I usually say something to the tune of

"Ok, what's up?"

That is also exactly what I think, too.

Writer's Block: Know by Heart

Have you ever thought you knew the words to a song and then been shocked to find out what the lyrics really were? What was the song? Did you like your version better?

I swear on Odin's one eye, that in the song Medium (Incubus-Fungus Amongus)
When he talks about smelling and bathing I heard
"Not too Pleasant,
Not too Bad,
Just enough to wake my Dad"

but it's actually
"Just enough to wake my Dad"

The lyrics I thought I heard were actually right, when I thought they were waaaaay off.

Stuff I like to doodle

Bomberman-Esque Bombs
Rock-n-Roll related things
Things on my recently-found Yu-Gi-Oh cards
Captain Bruce Dickinson
Samurai with eyepatches
Me in stick/blob form with a bandana on
Personification of the Wind
Flamey-Headed Loki
Greek Deities
Norse Deities
Screw it, Deities of 'pagan faiths'
My friends in animal form that Carl and I have decided. (Robert is a frog with a tie, and Bunny is a, well, bunny holding up her pants yelling 'WHOA!')
Those pistols that have a flag that says BANG! on it.


Sigh. I'm really bad at this.

So, I dunno what I wanna do with this superhero thing. I doubt it's going anywhere, considering I haven't done a damned thing with it since September.

Oh well, I did write a little story-poem-thing last night that will be altered over and over.

Here goes so far:

"The War of Art"

Blue Soldiers board the White Ships
To fight Rough Yellow Battles on
Green, Green Fields
On the other side of the Violent Violet Sea.
Their Indigo Wives cry deep, dark tears
As their Purple Leaders show a false confidence
Of a spectacular victory.
They merely see it as a Gold and Silver game of chess, however.
As the weather beaten Ships reach the Brown, Brown Shores,
The Soldiers dream of the Grey Cities
Where their Wives and Translucent Children and Siblings stay,
Nestled in the bosom of walls forged by pride.
Many of the Colourless Ones will become Indigo too,
as their Azure Brothers and Fathers will be greeted
With Red and Black
On the Green, Green Canvas of War.