JL New Wave: The Challengers from Beyond! (IC)

ChasNicollette

Allons-y Means Let's Go.
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Justice League

The New Wave
(original JLNW concept created by Nubian_Legend)

The Challengers from Beyond
(Exiles in The Fourth Dimension)

C1: The Shaman - The Doctor (Earth-14)
C2: The Visionary - Kyle Raynor (Earth-33)
C3: The Heir - Superman (Earth-0 by way of Earth-247)
C4: The Troublemaker - The Essential Major Girl (Earth-7)
C5: The Good Shepherd - Boy Blue (Earth-27)
C6: The Second Coming - M'Onel (Earth-11)
C7: The Avatar - The Animal-Man (Earth-19)
C8: The Crucible - Firestorm (Earth-568)

Notable Worlds

Earth-Prime: Prologue World
Earth-1: The "Main" World
Earth-2: The "New" Verse
Earth-8: Elseworld ( A Non-DC world in origin where the other guys coexist)
Earth-10: Reich World (A world where Hitler comes to power with Nazi superman, Overman.)
Earth-11: Genderbend World
Earth-12: Beyond World(World in which Batman Beyond takes place)
Earth-18: Old Western Variant
Earth-21: 1950's style Golden Age World.
Earth-26: "Toon" World
Earth-31: Pirate World
Earth-32: Superhero Mashups
Earth-33: "Our" World
Earth-395: Medieval-inspired World

(A list of DC's Multiverse Worlds)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_DC_Multiverse_worlds
 
Last edited:
Earth – 33
Southern California
Coffee Shop​

Sitting at a table, a Carmel Macchiato slowly cooling Kyle doodled on his tablet, drawing the Barista. He’d probably use a variation of her as a character in the next issue. Maybe not, but she was cute. Flipping through the controls on his tablet he shifted angles, rendering the image in tri-d. A few strokes, an alteration of the skin tones and.. she was a shambling zombie ready to feast on human flesh.

Saving the image he shifted through his files, working through the early morning slow times. Replacing his coffee when it ran empty. And it went empty a lot. Eventually he left the coffee shop and went home, transferring the files to his ‘office’ system.

*****

Walking across the movie lot in full tactical gear Kyle went over the script again. Bust through the door, swivel left, fire three shots, scream “Down”, empty the clip. Pull his partner back through the door and call for backup.

Thank god he didn’t watch the show. Seeing himself do this shit would have him rolling o the floor. But the pay was ok, if very sporadic. At least he wasn’t dying. Unlike his ‘partner’. That idiot had asked for a raise. And he was getting it. His character was going straight to heaven.

Jerking to the side as a Beep Beep sounded behind him he looked back and watched the buggy drive past. Allison one of the shows directors, and cute as hell. She wasn’t the nine levels above him gorgeous, but she was the just out of reach adorably cute.

He’d even asked her out once, coffee. She’d touched his hand and whispered she was engaged. But that he was sweet and cute for asking. Shot down like a rocketship. Sigh.

Looking past her across the lot he paused for a moment and looked at the new Hanger. Well it wasn’t new new. One of the old shows that had gotten cancelled had been replaced last week and crews were moving shit in and out. He’d heard the show had a cult following that wanted it brought back. Like hard core wanted it back. But the studio was against it. Ratings.

He’d never heard of it before working here, so it didn’t matter to him. Not really. Just sucked for the actors. Hopefully they’d found other work.

“Careful,” a male voice told him.

Looking up he saw one of the better guys on the lot. A really good actor you had to stop and really think about his real name or you found yourself calling him by his character. That’s how good Kyle wanted to be. To be the part. To be one with the lines.

“Sorry, Mr. Fillion. Guess I need to pay more attention to my surroundings.”

“Kyle, right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Don’t you take a shot for me later today?”


“No, Mr. Fillion, That’s Mark. The other SWAT guy in the scene. My partner.”

“Ah. Ok. Well, could you please call me Nathan? Every time people say Mr. Fillion I look for my father.”

“Yes Mr… uh.. Nathan.” God that was hard to say. Calling someone of his caliber by their first name.

“Good luck on your scene later. Hope you get more face time.”

Watching as Nathan Fillion walked away Kyle couldn’t help it as his eyes drifted downwards. Yeah, for him he’d go the other way.

*****

Back in his apartment he sat sketching on his tablet, rendering the image in three dimensions. What should he call this one? “Hell Bitch rips up the Bridge?”

****

A single sheet covered him, the warm night air blowing in through the open window, ruffling the sheet slightly.
 
Secret Origins: The Second of Four Shadows.

There are other worlds than these.
********​

In the Bleed of The Multiverse, there are worlds spinning beyond the number of counting-- an Orrery, a Rainbow of Worlds.

And in that Rainbow of Worlds, just as in the rainbow of light visible to the human eye, there is a spectrum.

There are lighthearted worlds, cartoonish and childlike, bright and shining and optimistic and full of imagination.

And there are worlds ravaged by untold devastations, torn from the heavens and rent to shattering.

And between the worlds, down upon the worlds from heights incomprehensible to the mathematics of our reality, there rages a war for the soul of The Multiverse.

A war between the heroes, the forces of light and of Life--

--and the faction of Anti-Life, The Great Darkness, led by an unspeakable Master.

Some of these worlds, these Earths and their respective Universes, have been sheltered from the worst of that war-- little knowing what tsunamic, titanic forces clash beyond their branes.

Other worlds are on the front lines-- the very bleeding edge of the battle for the soul of The New Wave Multiverse.

Earth-14 was one of those worlds. Filled to bursting with high-powered superheroes, in the cartography of The Multiverse Earth-14 loomed closest to a great cornerstone of The Speed Force Wall that rimmed The Orrery of Worlds, and as a result it exhibited properties that no other Earth could. Earth-14 had the capability to spawn other worlds-- an endless array of universes, nascent, still finding their vibratory frequency in The Multiversal structure.

The Judex Luminary Authority fought upon that battlefront with all that they had-- defending their newborn gallery of worlds from the greater torrents and torments of The Multiverse, as well as the fully-fledged Earths of The Multiverse as a whole...

...and lost, their spirits shattering on the rocks of the god-graveyard city-planet of Mammord, called Wonderworld.

Escaping scarcely with her life intact-- The Doctor, Jamie Hamilton-- managed to forge herself a shift-ship out of the mystical memories of her Earth, and launched herself off into The Multiverse to gather a new Authority from the heroes of The Rainbow of Worlds and mount another, final defense against The Great Darkness.

This is what happens next.
 
Housecall.

A single sheet covered him, the warm night air blowing in through the open window, ruffling the sheet slightly.

VWORRP.
VWORRP.
VWORRP.


An unearthly sound echoed in the corridor outside Kyle Raynor's apartment, like a wind through the headstones of a graveyard between the worlds, and a strobing light seeped through the cracks around Kyle's door.

And after a moment, a soft whistling sound echoed in the distance, and the lock on Kyle's door clicked open.

The Doctor walked in, slender and beautiful with long dark hair and expressive eyes that seemed deeper and darker than fathoms, and absently tugged the door shut behind her, her long brown coat swishing low around the rubber-soled Chuck Taylors she wore on her feet.

She moved through the room with a freerunner's grace, a dancer's dexterity, her eyes roving over everything-- 20 vastly heightened senses not missing a detail in the slightest. And yet she didn't immediately pay attention to the beautiful human male dreaming naked under a sheet.

Moving closer to Kyle's drawing table, she danced her fingers in the air over it, and all of a sudden a vast number of the images contained on the tablet leaped up into the air around her, translucent projections like holograms.

"Molto bene," she murmured, gazing from drawing to drawing, using brisk little gestures to flick through them as though she were thumbing through a gallery on a smartphone.

She stopped, fascinated, at the drawing of the barista as the zombie. "Moore?"

And then kept going-- and found the "Hell Bitch rips up the bridge." She arched an eyebrow like Spock, and pursed her lips. "Ketch. Not a bad likeness."

Then, she moved from the drawing table, the projected images fading as she turned away, and moved to the window, gazing out and up at the sky. She reached out a hand up towards the sky through that window, holding up her palm with fingers open as goosebumps prickled over the back of that hand-- translucent hairs standing on end.

"...fantastic."
 
VWORRP.
VWORRP.
VWORRP.

A rumbling sound halfway between a snort and snore escaped him as he rolled over in the bed. Stretching in his sleep, the sheet slipped a little, baring more of his chiseled torso as what wasn't revealed became even more defined.

Breathing slowed once more.

She moved through the room with a freerunner's grace, a dancer's dexterity, her eyes roving over everything-- 20 vastly heightened senses not missing a detail in the slightest. And yet she didn't immediately pay attention to the beautiful human male dreaming naked under a sheet.

He lay there listening as the intruder walked through his apartment. Didn't sound like they were stealing anything. But they could just be looking before they decided to cut, shoot, stab, or just plain beat him and then take everything.

And he moved, sliding from the bed, grabbing the bat he always had handy, he grabbed a t-shirt one handed and swished his hand, wrapping it tight just in case, and straightened up. The sheet still on the bed as he faced the intruder. "Need something?" He asked with a challenge in his voice.
 
The Challenger becomes The Challenged.

And he moved, sliding from the bed, grabbing the bat he always had handy, he grabbed a t-shirt one handed and swished his hand, wrapping it tight just in case, and straightened up. The sheet still on the bed as he faced the intruder. "Need something?" He asked with a challenge in his voice.

She didn't immediately look at him, just wiggled her fingers near the windowpane.

"I know I shouldn't be here, but not for the reason you think," she mused. "This parallel is surrounded by a barrier that is only penetrable by pure thought. Even I shouldn't have been able to shift through it. But something... someone... has gotten out. Punched their way out. Left a hole. That's... that's impossible."

Then she turned and glanced at him, and stopped, and stared.

The Doctor was not, precisely, celibate. But given that her 20 highly advanced senses automatically provided her ultimate enlightenment as well as empathy with all living things, dating became... complicated.

Still.

She wasn't dead.

And her sexuality included attraction to males.

She tilted her head to one side, and then to the other. She could see in the dark. And that was... quite a view.

"...Gordon Bennett, someone's been working out. Did someone tell you that freelance artists were supposed to be slobs that live in their parents' basement, and you decided to give that stereotype the biggest two-fingered salute you could? Mind you, you might want to put away that truncheon before you hurt someone with it. Oh, and the bat."
 
"...Gordon Bennett, someone's been working out. Did someone tell you that freelance artists were supposed to be slobs that live in their parents' basement, and you decided to give that stereotype the biggest two-fingered salute you could? Mind you, you might want to put away that truncheon before you hurt someone with it. Oh, and the bat."

Scowling at her, the voice gave that away. Though the accent was kinda hot, and having a rather distinctive effect on him. She was in his apartment in the middle of the night, not in and of itself unusual, she was - uninvited. "Yeah I work out. Studio requires it for the job, and they pay for the gym. As for putting anything away, why don't you explain why your here first?" He asked, gesturing with the bat that she should turn around.

He knew where everything in his apartment was, even the clean clothes he hadn't managed to get into the dresser - yet. Watching her, he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs that didn't really do much to hide his 'truncheon'. Hell if anything they accented the ridges in his muscles.
 
Inconceivable.

Scowling at her, the voice gave that away. Though the accent was kinda hot, and having a rather distinctive effect on him. She was in his apartment in the middle of the night, not in and of itself unusual, she was - uninvited. "Yeah I work out. Studio requires it for the job, and they pay for the gym. As for putting anything away, why don't you explain why your here first?" He asked, gesturing with the bat that she should turn around.

He knew where everything in his apartment was, even the clean clothes he hadn't managed to get into the dresser - yet. Watching her, he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs that didn't really do much to hide his 'truncheon'. Hell if anything they accented the ridges in his muscles.

She tilted her head the one way again, and smirked softly, and didn't turn around. "Well, those are some on-the-job benefits I can get behind. Or in front of. Erm. Never mind, being rude again, rude and not ginger..."

And then she met his gaze, and grew serious. "I'm not going to lie to you, but you're not going to believe it."

"This Earth is an Earth of dreamsmiths and memesmiths. The repository of The Multiverse's historical record as told through the imaginations of its humanity-- imagination so intense and beautiful that it's capable of influencing that history even across The Bleed that separates parallel worlds-- pure thought is a two-way stream, Eschatological Pantheistic Multiple-Ego Solipsism. But you. I saw your imagination from hypertemporal orbit. You're the most vivid dreamer I've ever encountered, and that is saying something."

"I'm looking for heroes to fight in a battle that defies even your best storytellers' comprehension, and I'm tracking the frothing wake of an enemy in that battle. I'm here because somewhere in your art and writing there might be a hint as to where that enemy's gone. Will you help me?"
 
And then she met his gaze, and grew serious. "I'm not going to lie to you, but you're not going to believe it."

"This Earth is an Earth of dreamsmiths and memesmiths. The repository of The Multiverse's historical record as told through the imaginations of its humanity-- imagination so intense and beautiful that it's capable of influencing that history even across The Bleed that separates parallel worlds-- pure thought is a two-way stream, Eschatological Pantheistic Multiple-Ego Solipsism. But you. I saw your imagination from hypertemporal orbit. You're the most vivid dreamer I've ever encountered, and that is saying something."

"I'm looking for heroes to fight in a battle that defies even your best storytellers' comprehension, and I'm tracking the frothing wake of an enemy in that battle. I'm here because somewhere in your art and writing there might be a hint as to where that enemy's gone. Will you help me?"

"Yep. Not gonna believe it." He replied, tightening the grip on the bat just in case she decided to charge him. "You are off your rocker. Nuts. Bonkers. Mad as the Hatter himself. Probably worse. You escape from the California Mental Institute, in Sacramento? You may need a Doctor. Or meds. Better meds. Maybe less?"

Damn, why were the cute ones crazy as a Golden Pond? She was even hotter than his Lesbian neighbors. And the accent.. frack! Focus. Maybe he should humor her like the Ice Cream guy. "Would you like some ice cream?" He asked, shifting his feet before he dived across the bed for his phone. Call the cops. Fuck he should have gotten the voice option on the damned thing.
 
Next Stop Everywhere.

"Yep. Not gonna believe it." He replied, tightening the grip on the bat just in case she decided to charge him. "You are off your rocker. Nuts. Bonkers. Mad as the Hatter himself. Probably worse. You escape from the California Mental Institute, in Sacramento? You may need a Doctor. Or meds. Better meds. Maybe less?"

"My predecessor had a predilection for the pharmacological," The Doctor considered, "up to his eyeballs half the time. I prefer a more... unfiltered approach. But that's neither here nor there. I am The Doctor. The definite article. And it's very hard to keep me in a locked room."

Damn, why were the cute ones crazy as a Golden Pond? She was even hotter than his Lesbian neighbors. And the accent.. frack! Focus. Maybe he should humor her like the Ice Cream guy. "Would you like some ice cream?" He asked, shifting his feet before he dived across the bed for his phone. Call the cops. Fuck he should have gotten the voice option on the damned thing.

One of The Doctor's aforediscussed 20 senses involved time... and in her head, she expanded a single half-second within her perceptions. The whole room decelerated, and she watched Kyle drift in slow motion across his bedroom, straining for his phone with fingers outstretched.

She had a number of options, here.

She could telekinetically pluck the phone out of his grasp and into her own hand.

She could turn the phone into Nerf, or butterflies, or a chocolate bar-- oh, a Cornetto! They never had good ice cream in The States, no matter what Earth you were on, she could show him that Brits knew ice cream!

...but oh, people loved their phones, she couldn't do anything to his phone, she'd lose him. Maybe she could jam the signal, or just turn the signal into fireflies, oh, that could be pretty!

But cutting him off from communication would be so much like menacing him, forcing him to comply, and while the stakes were incalculable, she couldn't forsake the ideals of Life. Not to mention, she would feel the betrayal twist in his emotions like a knife, and that wouldn't feel awesome for her, either.

So as time sprang back into joint and Kyle returned to full speed, she simply held up her hand, and snapped her fingers.

The apartment door swung open-- itself a wait-what impossible moment --and there it was, her shift-ship.

The Clever Blue Box.

This strange and beautiful and simplistic wooden-looking thing with signs on it-- Public Call Police Box. Thrumming with its eerie own sort of technobiological metamechanical life.

"It's all right. I'm not here to enslave you. I can just go. My ride's right here. If you won't help me, maybe I can find someone else who will. That bloke Morrison seems nice, round the twist but very big picture."

She was hoping. Hoping against hope.

That he would see this display, the door opening at a finger-snap and the bizarre prop waiting out in the hall-- and at least stop. And look. And listen. Long enough to realize that he was no longer living in the real world and he was standing on the edge of a wonderverse beyond his wildest imaginings.

If that didn't work... well. She would think of something.
 
What in the Blue Bloody Hells?

"My predecessor had a predilection for the pharmacological," The Doctor considered, "up to his eyeballs half the time. I prefer a more... unfiltered approach. But that's neither here nor there. I am The Doctor. The definite article. And it's very hard to keep me in a locked room."

Wrapping his fingers around the phone he rolled onto his back, hoping he didn’t need to fend her off with a bat, or a punch. He hated hitting girls – not that he wouldn’t if she attacked first – especially cute ones.

She simply held up her hand, and snapped her fingers.

The apartment door swung open-- itself a wait-what impossible moment --and there it was, her shift-ship.

The Clever Blue Box.

Great Caesars Ghost! She had friends in waiting, answering finger snaps and more than likely verbal cues. She was a Hatter for sure. Stealthy bunch too if they managed to get a pair of blue doors set up in the hallway with no one noticing. Hell was gonna pay and his rent was gonna be free when he got done suing the security company that was supposed to be keeping the place safe.

“Public Call Police Box”

Nagging.

A dream never remembered? A scene on a British show? Alan Funk? The phone, half-forgotten in his hand, waited to be dialed as he walked towards the door, muscles flexing as he waited to be jumped. Lips moving like he was trying to remember lines he’d never read, only heard. “Arya.. Stark..?”

“Renegade. The girl who couldn’t die. Hashishin.”

Using the tip of the bat he pushed on the blue door.
 
Shaman Queen.

The phone, half-forgotten in his hand, waited to be dialed as he walked towards the door, muscles flexing as he waited to be jumped. Lips moving like he was trying to remember lines he’d never read, only heard. “Arya.. Stark..?”

“Renegade. The girl who couldn’t die. Hashishin.”

It was fascinating, seeing him connect those dots in his head, tracing strings from pushpin to pushpin. She arched that expressive eyebrow again.

"Now there's a word salad for you. Your creative process must be decidedly non-linear, non-subjective."

Using the tip of the bat he pushed on the blue door.

It didn't budge, at first.

But then with a smirk she snapped her fingers and both doors swung inward with a distinctive creak, revealing The Console Room, The Bleed Rotor, the coral outcroppings and the roundels and the cybersteampunk control mechanisms, far far bigger than a mere "call box" could hold.

"'That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, Bingo,'" she drawled.
 
With a smirk she snapped her fingers and both doors swung inward with a distinctive creak, revealing The Console Room, The Bleed Rotor, the coral outcroppings and the roundels and the cybersteampunk control mechanisms, far far bigger than a mere "call box" could hold.

"'That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, Bingo,'" she drawled.

“I’m off my nutter. Or I’ve wrapped the sheet around me while I slept and am even now turning red in the face as my hearts strains to beat without oxygen. Could have smashed my skull when I dove for the phone as well. Drooling on myself while my skull oozes grey matter to the floor. Damn, gonna need to draw those when I wake up. If I wake up.”

Leaning forwards he looked inside the room that wasn’t really there. “Could be a holographic projection. Did someone put you up to this?” He asked, still looking for accomplices. Snapping a look back at her he stepped across the threshold and into the weird illusion. “Bigger than the Wardobe. Got any lions or witches? Loved those stories when I was a kid.” Without deviating more than needed he walked straight across, the bat held out like a blind mans cane.

“Hmm, now that’s a trick,” he murmured. “Emma and Penny’s Apartment door was two feet back.” Turning around, he walked back to her.

<Was she checking out my butt?>
 
The Wardrobe Between The Worlds.

“I’m off my nutter. Or I’ve wrapped the sheet around me while I slept and am even now turning red in the face as my hearts strains to beat without oxygen. Could have smashed my skull when I dove for the phone as well. Drooling on myself while my skull oozes grey matter to the floor. Damn, gonna need to draw those when I wake up. If I wake up.”

"Someone's been reading a bit too much Stephen King," The Doctor reflected, with an introspective squint. "Though I suppose that's going 'round."

Leaning forwards he looked inside the room that wasn’t really there. “Could be a holographic projection. Did someone put you up to this?” He asked, still looking for accomplices.

"Holographic technology in 2017 on a Level 5 Earth?" Jamie chortled. "You are joshing me. Your technology's baseline, you'd be lucky to get imagery this good on a green-screen or your Playstation Pro VR or whatever the kids are playing these days, 7D Augmented Reality. A hologram'd be all blue and flickery and Tupac Shakur, this is the proper stuff, real matter! As for getting put up to this, well, I wouldn't be here, intrud-a window of your life if-- if I thought there was any other way!"

Snapping a look back at her he stepped across the threshold and into the weird illusion. “Bigger than the Wardobe. Got any lions or witches? Loved those stories when I was a kid.” Without deviating more than needed he walked straight across, the bat held out like a blind mans cane.

"Not with me, no," she mused, tilting her head again, this time giving Kyle's posterior an... affectionate structural analysis. "But I'm also called The Magician, and I have a nephew."

“Hmm, now that’s a trick,” he murmured. “Emma and Penny’s Apartment door was two feet back.”

"'Free-folding tesseract phenomenon,'" The Doctor expressed, stepping in behind Kyle and taking off her coat, hanging it idly over a coral branch even though there was a coat tree right beside the door. "At least, that's the terminology I came up with when conceptualized the concept, you could just as easily say 'bigger on the inside.'"

She started fiddling with a couple of the controls, squinting at a scope.

Turning around, he walked back to her.

<Was she checking out my butt?>

She grinned to herself at that thought, blushing a bit around her freckles, and kept flicking switches.

Affectionate structural analysis, not checking you out, completely different.

"I was able to narrow the enemy's Earth down to this one by reverse-engineering his vibratory resonance, but I haven't been able to properly chart his course through The Multiverse. But now that I've located the hole he punched to escape-- mm. No. Sorry, his ripples in The Bleed were ferocious but it's been a bit, now they're all but dispersed. I'll still need to thumb through your portfolio."
 
"'Free-folding tesseract phenomenon,'" The Doctor expressed, stepping in behind Kyle and taking off her coat, hanging it idly over a coral branch even though there was a coat tree right beside the door. "At least, that's the terminology I came up with when conceptualized the concept, you could just as easily say 'bigger on the inside.'"

"'Free-folding tesseract phenomenon?" Kyle said looking around. "Big words, mad as hatter."


"I was able to narrow the enemy's Earth down to this one by reverse-engineering his vibratory resonance, but I haven't been able to properly chart his course through The Multiverse. But now that I've located the hole he punched to escape-- mm. No. Sorry, his ripples in The Bleed were ferocious but it's been a bit, now they're all but dispersed. I'll still need to thumb through your portfolio."

"Ahh.. yeaaahhhh.." Kyle murmured making sure there was space between him and the cute nutter. "And why would I say it's bigger on the inside? What's bigger on the inside?"

Stopping he looked at her. "And just what is your name, girl that likes to break into apartments and bedrooms in the middle of the night?"
 
"Ahh.. yeaaahhhh.." Kyle murmured making sure there was space between him and the cute nutter. "And why would I say it's bigger on the inside? What's bigger on the inside?"

The Doctor stared at him. "Why wouldn't you say it? Seems like a matter of course to me, everyone should say it from now on. ...this is my shift-ship. I use her to travel between parallel universes in my efforts to undermine The Great Darkness. Admittedly, I should come up with a fancy name for her, possibly something acronymic, but I've been a tetch busy of late and acronyms aren't my strong suit."

Stopping he looked at her. "And just what is your name, girl that likes to break into apartments and bedrooms in the middle of the night?"

"I don't like to do it," she shook her head. "But I do what's necessary. Just as you will, when the time comes."

She turned to face him more fully, a tracking protocol algorithm engaged, a final attempt to reconstruct her target's path through the multiversal strata.

"I am Jamie Davida Hamilton, and I told you-- I'm called The Doctor. I am the sole survivor of The Judex Luminary Authority of Earth-14, and you-- Kyle Aaron Raynor-- are my only hope."
 
The Doctor stared at him. "Why wouldn't you say it? Seems like a matter of course to me, everyone should say it from now on. ...this is my shift-ship. I use her to travel between parallel universes in my efforts to undermine The Great Darkness. Admittedly, I should come up with a fancy name for her, possibly something acronymic, but I've been a tetch busy of late and acronyms aren't my strong suit."


"I am Jamie Davida Hamilton, and I told you-- I'm called The Doctor. I am the sole survivor of The Judex Luminary Authority of Earth-14, and you-- Kyle Aaron Raynor-- are my only hope."

"Ah.. yeah.. Alternative worlds.. Dimensions.. that kinda talk usually means you're a wee bit Insane." God she had pretty eyes. "But we won't discuss the balance of sanity-insanity either of us is burdened with, Doctor Hamilton. And since I'm not one of your patients, I'm not calling you THE DOCTOR."

Especially when you talk about the Great Darkness. "Why do you want to look at my pictures? And no one uses my middle name except my agent, my lawyer, and my mom. And not even my mom uses it that often." Pausing he looked at her. "How did you know my name? You didn't look through my mail, it gets shredded, my wallet is on the far side of my bed next to my phone and is.. was untouched."

Walking around a little, and ignoring the fact he was still in rather snug boxer briefs, he looked at things. Not touching anything. Never know what touching something might do to an unbalanced mind. Found that out when the homeless guy dropped a crushed aluminum can from his shopping cart one day.

"So.. shit-ship? Shift Ship? Beautiful voice and lovely accent. Hard to understand some words when you get excited. Or I'm getting old and my hearing is going. Looks more like a bunch of stuff packed into a hallway outside my apartment. Oh.. wait.. I bet.. the girls put you up to this.. I'm in their apartment and your a character actor or something. Probably a stage magician, slight of hand and all that. The walk way and steps would correspond, sort of? to the doorway of their apartment. Must have taken a while to move all this stuff in and decorate though."

Looking up at the ceiling he nodded. "Damn good paint job. Management would flip if they saw it. Looks three dimensional even. Not some slappy dappy shit. Lucas would hire the artist."

"Wish I had my tablet, I'd draw this. But then I don't take others work, so I couldn't. Did you design this? Or are you just playing a part?" Part of him hoped this was real and he was getting abducted by aliens. Unless anal probes were involved, he didn't want that kind of alien kidnapping. But he was pretty sure he was still sleeping and just having a weird dream. Had the Barista slipped something in his coffee other than chocolate and caramel?
 
Relative Dementia.

"Ah.. yeah.. Alternative worlds.. Dimensions.. that kinda talk usually means you're a wee bit Insane." God she had pretty eyes. "But we won't discuss the balance of sanity-insanity either of us is burdened with, Doctor Hamilton. And since I'm not one of your patients, I'm not calling you THE DOCTOR."

Especially when you talk about the Great Darkness. "Why do you want to look at my pictures? And no one uses my middle name except my agent, my lawyer, and my mom. And not even my mom uses it that often." Pausing he looked at her. "How did you know my name? You didn't look through my mail, it gets shredded, my wallet is on the far side of my bed next to my phone and is.. was untouched."

Walking around a little, and ignoring the fact he was still in rather snug boxer briefs, he looked at things. Not touching anything. Never know what touching something might do to an unbalanced mind. Found that out when the homeless guy dropped a crushed aluminum can from his shopping cart one day.

"So.. shit-ship? Shift Ship? Beautiful voice and lovely accent. Hard to understand some words when you get excited. Or I'm getting old and my hearing is going. Looks more like a bunch of stuff packed into a hallway outside my apartment. Oh.. wait.. I bet.. the girls put you up to this.. I'm in their apartment and your a character actor or something. Probably a stage magician, slight of hand and all that. The walk way and steps would correspond, sort of? to the doorway of their apartment. Must have taken a while to move all this stuff in and decorate though."

Looking up at the ceiling he nodded. "Damn good paint job. Management would flip if they saw it. Looks three dimensional even. Not some slappy dappy shit. Lucas would hire the artist."

"Wish I had my tablet, I'd draw this. But then I don't take others work, so I couldn't. Did you design this? Or are you just playing a part?" Part of him hoped this was real and he was getting abducted by aliens. Unless anal probes were involved, he didn't want that kind of alien kidnapping. But he was pretty sure he was still sleeping and just having a weird dream. Had the Barista slipped something in his coffee other than chocolate and caramel?

"Blimey, you nonfictionals are hard work," The Doctor decided, after listening to Kyle rant and rave for paragraphs and paragraphs. "Did Jesus have this much trouble putting up with Thomas? No wonder he took a three-day kip, the poor bloke. No, it's worse than Thomas, because at least Thomas believed his own senses. I could perform legitimate miracles in front of you and you'd claim sleight of hand and LSD. Even if I gave you a split-second burst of true enlightenment you'd claim it was food poisoning like-- like Ebeneezer Scrooge!"

"I could tell you that with my 20 superhuman senses I could read your name in your mind like a picture book, or see it from here on your driver's license even though it's in your wallet in your apartment through walls and 'round the corner, and you would claim I've riffled through your trash or hacked The DMV."

"Americans and Britons always were two countries divided by a common tongue, but fetishizing my Estuary accent can't be helping you pay attention. Your hearing is fine, by the way, above-average neurotimpanic response, but if you keep listening to U2 as loud as you do that'll suffer. I don't know those girls, though I'm sure they seem lovely, and I wish them luck living across from you."

"I created this shift-ship transit womb and built her on a molecular level in a matter of instants, bit of a rush job, but I did so partly by tapping into my millennia of ancestral memory and the collective unconscious of mankind so I don't know if it's so much mine as it is derived from a deeply-embedded archetypal arcanus. Either way, I'm quite proud of her, so-- thanks, she's not shite in the slightest."

"We're all playing a part, Kyle. We're just words on a page reading ourselves aloud. But I need to look through your art properly to save The Multiverse itself-- surely you've heard of theories about parallel worlds, seen Star Trek or Sliders or Fringe, those theories had to come from somewhere, why couldn't they be true?"

"They are true, Kyle, all the myths are true, and a great and terrible incomprehensible cataclysm incarnate is wading across The Bleed that separates the parallels and preparing them one by one and all at once, readying them to be subjugated and robbed of all will, all courage, all Life."

She stepped towards him, searching his green green eyes with her brown brown ones, her face full of imploring, begging, pleading-- "Prove to me you're not just an outrageously pretty face silver-plattered on a finely-chiseled beefcake body, Kyle. Prove it. I just need you to-- use your imagination, just that once, that beautiful visionary imagination of yours-- and believe."

Jamie stepped back, sagging, crestfallen and broken, at the end of her rope-- all of her friends were dead and her universe might not be too far behind, and her shoulders were far too slender to carry that weight.

"...or everything that ever was anything, everything that was ever a dream or a story or a fact will be ground beneath an implacable granite bootheel and lost. Everything."
 
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She stepped towards him, searching his green green eyes with her brown brown ones, her face full of imploring, begging, pleading-- "Prove to me you're not just an outrageously pretty face silver-plattered on a finely-chiseled beefcake body, Kyle. Prove it. I just need you to-- use your imagination, just that once, that beautiful visionary imagination of yours-- and believe."

Jamie stepped back, sagging, crestfallen and broken, at the end of her rope-- all of her friends were dead and her universe might not be too far behind, and her shoulders were far too slender to carry that weight.

"...or everything that ever was anything, everything that was ever a dream or a story or a fact will be ground beneath an implacable granite bootheel and lost. Everything."

“I left my portfolio in the apartment. Show me the outside of your.. ship. If it’s what I drew a few hours ago, I’ll listen. And what’s the name of the girl with the pale skin and purple hair, I’ve never written it down. Just started drawing her yesterday. Sketches and doodles mostly.”

“You talk a lot of words, and make a lot of sense. Living in this town you get used to the way the crazies talk, and you don’t talk like them. And yes.. I find your voice to be insanely hot. Not my fault. Used to watch BBC on PBS all the time. Even had a babysitter from London. She got me hooked on the stuff. Beautiful as a fresh mint pence. And twice as nice. Gave me jelly babies when my mom wasn’t looking. First crush for me. So yeah, I think your voice is drop dead gorgeous. Sue me.”
 
Thinking Outside the Box.

“I left my portfolio in the apartment. Show me the outside of your.. ship. If it’s what I drew a few hours ago, I’ll listen. And what’s the name of the girl with the pale skin and purple hair, I’ve never written it down. Just started drawing her yesterday. Sketches and doodles mostly.”

Finally.

Traction.

Well, of a sort.

"Two birds with one stone, then," The Doctor nodded quietly. "We go back into your apartment, you can see the outside of my shift-ship, we can grab your portfolio and your tablet. You could even put some trousers on if you like, dealer's choice."

Her brown eyes seemed to focus and refocus on his forehead for a moment, like she was literally reading words off of his frontal lobe. "Her name is Raven. On some Earths, she uses the alias 'Rachel Roth.' Her friends sometimes call her 'Rae.'" She hesitated and smirked faintly. "Her stage name is 'Angel,' which I think is a particularly poetic bit of cognitive dissonance."

“You talk a lot of words, and make a lot of sense. Living in this town you get used to the way the crazies talk, and you don’t talk like them. And yes.. I find your voice to be insanely hot. Not my fault. Used to watch BBC on PBS all the time. Even had a babysitter from London. She got me hooked on the stuff. Beautiful as a fresh mint pence. And twice as nice. Gave me jelly babies when my mom wasn’t looking. First crush for me. So yeah, I think your voice is drop dead gorgeous. Sue me.”

She smiled faintly, and stepped off of the shift-ship back into the hall and into Kyle's apartment, leaving her coat draped where it was, slipping her hands into the pockets of her own pinstriped trousers. "Suit yourself. Just remember, a law degree is a kind of doctorate and I have all the doctorates. All of them. So I could sue you. I actually could. Just so you know."

Jamie paused, and softened somewhat, and reflected gently: "I do like jelly babies. I prefer the purple ones. One of my past incarnations preferred the orange ones."
 
Her brown eyes seemed to focus and refocus on his forehead for a moment, like she was literally reading words off of his frontal lobe. "Her name is Raven. On some Earths, she uses the alias 'Rachel Roth.' Her friends sometimes call her 'Rae.'" She hesitated and smirked faintly. "Her stage name is 'Angel,' which I think is a particularly poetic bit of cognitive dissonance."

“Yeah. Sounds like her.” Kyle whispered to himself. Weird.

She smiled faintly, and stepped off of the shift-ship back into the hall and into Kyle's apartment, leaving her coat draped where it was, slipping her hands into the pockets of her own pinstriped trousers. "Suit yourself. Just remember, a law degree is a kind of doctorate and I have all the doctorates. All of them. So I could sue you. I actually could. Just so you know."

Following her out, cell in one hand, bat in the other, he threw both onto his couch. Loveseat really two cushions, not three. But a real couch wouldn’t have fit. Not that he needed or wanted one. He’d been threatened with lawsuits so many times his attorney was on speed dial. It was California after all.

Jamie paused, and softened somewhat, and reflected gently: "I do like jelly babies. I prefer the purple ones. One of my past incarnations preferred the orange ones."

“Ozzy always gave me the yellow ones, I like lemons.” Walking past her he opened his closet and started getting dressed. “What exactly are you looking for?” He asked as he grabbed clothes, discarding most of them – onto the floor – even though they were clean. “Other than pics in my portfolio?” Just under three minutes later he was wearing a pair of jeans, t-shirt and combat boots.

Grabbing the Tablet from the desk he looked at her, “Outside of your.. ship? Other than the door?”
 
No Place Like Home.

“Ozzy always gave me the yellow ones, I like lemons.”

"Lemons?" The Doctor made a face. "Really? Oh, they're almost as bad as pears."

Walking past her he opened his closet and started getting dressed. “What exactly are you looking for?” He asked as he grabbed clothes, discarding most of them – onto the floor – even though they were clean. “Other than pics in my portfolio?” Just under three minutes later he was wearing a pair of jeans, t-shirt and combat boots.

"The Great Darkness has many agents," The Doctor informed him, with a dash of weary sadness in her eyes-- she couldn't even fully appreciate watching him rummage about in near-nudity, or how he was almost as lovely fully dressed as he was nearly undressed. "Almost countless vectors of attack across the 52 main Earths of this particular Multiverse and the potentially infinite reservoir of Earths spawning in the depths of The Bleed. I seek leverage against but one such vector, one such agent. It'd be a start."

Grabbing the Tablet from the desk he looked at her, “Outside of your.. ship? Other than the door?”

"Right, yes, fair do's," Jamie nodded. "Stand back a bit, you might want to hide behind the sofa for this. And, erm, sorry if your ears pop, I'm going to adjust the internal dimensions of your apartment temporarily so that everything fits."

She drew a silvery and white rod out of her pocket, extending its telescoping tip and pressing a button on the side... the blue light atop glowing and whistling...

...and the light atop the shift-ship started strobing again, that eerie sound like an Army of Ghosts in The Void...

...and it faded from its spot in front of Kyle's door, instead rematerializing in the middle of his living room floor, the whole place kind of... rippling around it in subtle and profound ways to accommodate it.

It faded into place. Faded to blue.

The Doctor smiled faintly, adoringly, at the shift-ship.

Blue and wooden and somewhat larger than your average old-school phone booth.

She stepped forward and gently touched the surface of the wood-- she had so deeply endeared herself to Jamie even in so relatively short a time.

"Travel Across Ridiculous Distances In Style!" she proclaimed.

She paused, shrugged. "Work in progress. I'll get it eventually."
 
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She drew a silvery and white rod out of her pocket, extending its telescoping tip and pressing a button on the side... the blue light atop glowing and whistling...

...and the light atop the shift-ship started strobing again, that eerie sound like an Army of Ghosts in The Void...

...and it faded from its spot in front of Kyle's door, instead rematerializing in the middle of his living room floor, the whole place kind of... rippling around it in subtle and profound ways to accommodate it.

It faded into place. Faded to blue.

He sat down.

More realistically he collapsed on his ass in the general direction of the couch/love seat.

And stared at it.

A BIG BLUE BOX!!!

Oh.. MY.. FUCKING GOD!!!

Blink Blink

"Travel Across Ridiculous Distances In Style!" she proclaimed.

She paused, shrugged. "Work in progress. I'll get it eventually."

Blink Blink “Fuck me.”

Looking at her with a rather stunned look on his face he asked, “What?”

Then he jumped up and was a blur of motion, rushing past her to the main computer he used, much better graphics card, Dual quad core processor, an expensive as hell display. Flipping though files he past it, then reversed and went back. A blue box. Granted the Words Public Call Police Box weren’t there. Just some weird loops, circles, and whirls.

And the picture was a slightly more faded, or lighter color blue. But it was… well.. the Box.


“Shift Ship? Shifting through space I’m guessing?”
 
Ticking All Relevant Decision Indicator Selections.

Blink Blink “Fuck me.”

"Language," The Doctor chided aloud.

Inwardly, she reflected, cheekily, I haven't entirely ruled it out.

Looking at her with a rather stunned look on his face he asked, “What?”

She grinned at him. "Dead brill, ennit? Doesn't look like much, but she'll fool you."

Then he jumped up and was a blur of motion, rushing past her to the main computer he used, much better graphics card, Dual quad core processor, an expensive as hell display. Flipping though files he past it, then reversed and went back. A blue box. Granted the Words Public Call Police Box weren’t there. Just some weird loops, circles, and whirls.

And the picture was a slightly more faded, or lighter color blue. But it was… well.. the Box.

The Doctor moved up beside him as Kyle flipped through the images, and her eyes widened slightly, and she grinned more than a little. "Oh, now, I knew you were good but this is just showing off. You and Vincent van Gogh."

“Shift Ship? Shifting through space I’m guessing?”

"Time, Space, Hyperspace, Hypertime," The Doctor clarified. "It's a much smaller equivalent to The Watchcarrier used by The Judex Luminary Authority, able to survive and traverse the incalculable dangers of The Bleed, and the nigh-infinitely variable relative dimensions of this reality."
 
"Time, Space, Hyperspace, Hypertime," The Doctor clarified. "It's a much smaller equivalent to The Watchcarrier used by The Judex Luminary Authority, able to survive and traverse the incalculable dangers of The Bleed, and the nigh-infinitely variable relative dimensions of this reality."

“Space.. time.. and weird other dimension.. so across dimensions and into theoretical timelines?” Kyle asked, his eyebrow lifting like he was a vulcan or something. “That’s.. “

“Wow..”

“It’s.. wow.. Why is it smaller on the outside? Ease of transportation and tight spaces?” he asked walking around it and looking at everything he could. He didn’t smack, hit, or pound though. It was more a caress of admiration.

Looking over at her, The Doctor, the physician, The Medic. Doctor Hamilton. He came to a decision and wandered over to his closet and grabbed a backpack. “Ok, I’m ready.” he added as he transferred files to the tablet from his main computer.

And with Tablet in hand he walked back to the Big Blue box and waited.
 
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