The Sending was not really alive and aware in the way that the dreamers and their dreams were, but it had a rudimentary sort of consciousness. Nothing truly unthinking existed in the Dreamlands, after all...everything meant something else, everything had some sense of "being" to it. Plus, the Sending needed to be a bit more aware than your average piece of toast in order to do its job. Thus, the Sending noticed when the dreamscape suddenly changed, a cloud of mist washing over it and revealing a vast sea all around where once there had been something else. Its transport was now a small sailing craft, its destination an island visible just on the horizon. It had entered a different "world" within the Dreamlands. The rules were subtly different, and the default appearance molded by the preferences and prejudices of its rulers. The Sending merely noted this without judging. Different was different, and the differences would not affect its job. So it made no difference to the Sending. The boat crunched against the pebble-strewn shore and the Sending stepped out into the gentle surf, heading unerringly up into the grassy valleys ahead of it, its destination never in doubt. It passed dreamers in the form of sheep-like creatures, grazing contentedly on the grass. It also noticed that it was now dressed in some sort of faux-medieval tunic and leggings, no doubt the fashion for Sendings in this part of the Dreamlands. Finally, it crested a hillock and saw the person to whom it had been sent. She wore gleaming silver and blue armor with a flowing cape the color of the sky. A shepherd's crook nestled in one arm, but when the light hit it just right, it looked instead to be a wickedly hooked spear. "Hail Rotanna, Dreamqueen of the Looniearth," the Sending proclaimed. "I am a Sending from your sister ruler in 000SUPERGUY." Rotanna gestured for the Sending to approach. "What tidings do you bear, sirrah?" she asked, an ironic quirk curling her lip as she spoke the deliberately archaic words. The Sending stepped forward and bowed, offering Rotanna a scroll that represented the packet of dreams it had been entrusted with. "My lady bids me tell you she has found some dreamers within her realm that might be of interest to you and your cabinet." Rotanna took the scroll and unrolled it, "reading" the dreams contained therein. She chuckled. "Oh ho...Kat's gonna LOVE this," she smirked, dropping the false medievalism in her amusement. @>-`-,-`-,-`-,`-,-`-,-`-,-`- \\ // -'-.-'-.'-.-'-.-'-.-'-.-'-<@ .|,Coherent Comics Presents \\ // #25 - Translation --X------------------------- E }X{ ARCHS copyright 2003 by the '|` A Superguy/LNH Tale // \\ Dvandroid (Dave Van Domelen) @>-`-,-`-,-`-,`-,-`-,-`-,-`- // \\ -'-.-'-.'-.-'-.-'-.-'-.-'-<@ [May 8, 2003 - Topeka, Kansas] "I just love this," Kat snarled as she hauled a tree away from some downed powerlines. "The city's finally starting to get back into some kind of livability, and then whamwhamwham we get a pile of tornadoes. And I thought we'd seen the last of the crazy weather." It was sullenly sunny out at the moment. Clouds covered almost the entire sky, making everything feel dark, but the sun had broken though a small gap, casting its light over the storm damage. "Ha!" one of the workmen barked. "This is Kansas, lady. This is *normal* weather for May." Kat set the tree down out of the way and pulled the thick gloves from the belt of her overalls. Her stone body was pretty well insulated, but the last time she'd tried picking up live wires with her bare hands, it had given her a nasty jolt. She also noticed that the rugged overalls were starting to wear through, third pair in a month. She sighed inwardly. Unless she could get some sort of superscience or magic outfit, it looked like it was going to be dresses instead of pants for the forseeable future. Or Army surplus Battle Dress Uniforms, BDUs. "By the numbers, Miss Anders," the crew leader said, and she suppressed a snort. She only *looked* like a young woman, she was easily twice as old as the oldest man on the job. Picking up the hissing wires, she carried the live ends over to a wooden rack and clamped them into ceramic holders. It wasn't the normal way of dealing with downed wires, but they'd come up with it to take advantage of Kat's relative invulnerability. Once secured, the wires were a lot easier to deal with. "Thanks, we'll take it from here," the foreman nodded, and Kat stripped off the heavy gloves. There was one more downed powerline in the area, but since this team was tasked with fixing it as well, she could take a break. Reason number thirty-seven why Kat preferred Luna to Earth. The weather was a LOT more predictable. * * * * [May 13, 2003 - Kansas City, Missouri] Skysabre looked at himself in the mirror, then did a few practice lunges and kicks. "Yes, this will do nicely," he said, admiring the new costume. Well, it wasn't really a costume in the sense he was used to, but it would do. Blue leather jacket, light gray t-shirt, loose-fitting but durable gray pants, gray and light blue boots. A light blue belt featuring his elemental symbol and some pouches connected to a cross-belt that would hold his scabbards. The jacket had already been tailored to let the swordbelt pass through. "Why the red domino mask?" Anna asked. "I mean, why a mask at all, it's not like we have secrets to keep in this world. And if you're going to have one, why not blue to match the costume?" Skysabre shrugged. "Well, I could say that I might want to establish a secret identity here, Agent Brubaker said he could help us with the paper trails and everything. And he says that even the smallest of masks is enough to protect that, given something called the Mask Principle here. But really, it's just that I miss it. I've worn a red domino mask for my entire adult life with the exception of the past few months. I feel naked without it, kind of like someone who's always worn glasses would feel after getting contacts. Well, I wore a green domino mask for a while, true, but I've come to associate green with my worse half," he shrugged, referring to Acton Lord. "You find anything to your liking?" Anna shrugged. "Truth to tell, I liked wearing armor. It felt right, somehow. Oh, I'll probably take the advice of these Society for Creative Superguyism people on a practical 'working' outfit, but I'll save my real 'shopping' for when we stop by the Society for Creative Anachronism across town for your swords. Might even look into some platemail, if I can afford it." "Shouldn't be a problem, Kat'll probably lend you some if you need it. She's pulling down the big money in the reconstruction business, after all," he smirked. While each of the Exarchs still had some powers, Kat's were clearly the most marketable for the rebuilding of Topeka. Plus, Kat didn't seem to be spending much of her pay, investing it instead. Anna frowned, and Skysabre winced as he realized he'd hit on her sore spot. Her powers seemed to have been the most reduced of the four. She could coax existing fires a little, make them grow or shrink, but that seemed to be all. "Oh, I'm not going to hit you," Anna sighed. "And that's another reason I want to go talk to the SCA. They might know a ritual mage who's willing to take an apprentice. I'm...well, Rotanna was full of wild magic, which was why the Rot-13 cypher was usually enough to generate any effect desired. But she learned a little bit of 'proper' magic as well, and that's part of my memories. I've tried a few of those spells, and while the results were pretty pathetic, I think I have the potential for that kind of sorcery. Probably an affinity for fire magics, but I don't know any." Skysabre nodded. "Good idea. But be careful...if even half of what Brubaker told us about the Industrial Revolution is true, running around asking to learn magic could literally be playing with fire." * * * * [May 13, 2003 - Konza Prairie Research Natural Area, Kansas] Oakthorn walked through the relatively short prairie grasses and tried to collect his thoughts. The faint smell of smoke still clung to the ground, which had been seared by a controlled burn a few weeks ago...the prairie ecosystem depended on the occasional fire, so one had been provided. Did a man's life need to be burned to the ground every so often as well? Sure, he hadn't really existed until recently, but he still had the memories of Stanley King's entire life. As far as his memories were concerned, he'd been through the fire, like a phoenix...a new life rising from the ashes of the old, but continuity still preserved. The new phoenix was the old phoenix, simple as that. But he wasn't Stan King. Stan King was still back in the Looniverse, assuming he hadn't gotten killed in action at some point. Hell, that was a damn big explosion when Squidman killed Sig.Lad, maybe no one survived. Probably should never have experimented with fissile fromage, Oakthorn reflected. "Who am I?" Oakthorn asked the wind. The wind, of course, had no answer for him. * * * * [May 21, 2003 - Topeka, Kansas] "Okay, everyone, thanks for taking the time out to meet with me," Agent Brubaker glanced in turn at each of the four superguys. "It's time to decide where you're going to settle down, or at least call home base. The immediate crisis was over a couple months ago, and the regs require at least some sort of 'stay or go' committment from interdimensional visitors." "Stay," Skysabre replied, "but you knew that already. Anna's been having dreams since the Gentle Gift of Crimson fell, and they suggest we're needed on this world, if not necessarily this city." "Right," Brubaker nodded. "But I understand you have an offer from Mister Yuen to join his archaeological projects once he finishes dealing with Miss Wynn's legal issues. Will you be pulling up stakes and taking him up on that?" "I think we're going to stay, at least for a little while," Skysabre looked to the others, who nodded. "We have some reasons to be here, and not many reasons to be anywhere else yet." "Kansas State has an intriguing Dairy Sciences program," Oakthorn pointed out. "I might be able to adapt some of my own cheeez research to the physical laws of this reality. It'd give me an accomplishment to call my own, anyway." "And there's a small Applied Metaphysics group at K-State as well," Anna added. "Until I can find someone to apprentice myself to, that would be a good start." The agent of I'm With The Government nodded. "That brings up another point. Legal identities. You've all been operating provisionally under legal superguy identities, but it's a hassle getting those to work with things like college enrollment services. Miss Anders has already gone ahead and taken advantage of our services to establish her paper trail, but the rest of you haven't. Because of your status as duplicates, I presume?" Skysabre shrugged. "Well, I just haven't gotten around to it, I'm so used to being known just by my nom.du.net. But I suppose you could go ahead and put me down as Richard Franklins...even if I have an analogue in this world, it's not like the name is terribly uncommon." "I'm still waffling," Anna admitted. "I've settled on keeping Anna, but I keep wondering if I shouldn't pick a new last name, since I'm not really Anna *Tanner*. But I can't think of one I really want." "Oakthorn. I said it before, that's all I really am," Oakthorn said grumpily. "A weapon, like the bow of that name, not much more at the moment. If I have to have a first name, pick one yourself for the forms." Brubaker scowled. "Well, I could always go with Joe...but Joe Oakthorn doesn't have the right ring to it. And I assume you don't want to be called Stan anymore? Right. How about Paul?" Oakthorn shrugged. "Sure, whatever." "Fine. Richard Franklins, Kathryn Anders, Paul Oakthorn, and Anna..." Brubaker looked up from his notepad to give Anna one last look. "I could just put in Tanner and you could always change it later." Anna's brow creased in concentration for a moment. "Martel," she finally said. "Oakthorn has a point about our link to our weapons, I think I'll honor that more subtly. Forgeheart's a mouthful anyway." "Good. I'll get on the paperwork right away. Any other business you need taken care of besides the college enrollments?" Brubaker held his notepad computer half open, ready to shut the lid. Kat finally spoke up for the first time in the meeting. "I'd like to arrange to meet with Team M.E.C.H.A. some time later this month or maybe next month, once I finish a few things in town." "Any particular reason?" Brubaker asked, as he picked the stylus back up and started to jot in the request. "Something about their technology looks familiar. Dangerously familiar," she replied. "They've been around for years, so I doubt they're knowingly part of any invasion plans from my home reality, but better safe than sorry...." IS IT BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY? HOW CAN KAT MEET TEAM M.E.C.H.A. WHEN SHE'S MONTHS AHEAD OF THEM IN CONTINUITY? DOES ANYONE REALLY CARE ABOUT CONTINUITY MATTERS THESE DAYS? WOULDN'T IT HAVE BEEN WEIRD IF THE WIND HAD ANSWERED OAKTHORN'S QUESTION? Answers to some of these questions, but not the last one, since it's rhetorical, on the next...SUPERGUY! ============================================================================ Author's Notes: You'll notice some change in style starting this issue. The title is no longer in bad Latin, for one, and I've started to datestamp the scenes. This is in part because I'm going to be drawing on a different set of influences for the stories, and I wanted to change the look and feel to go along with that. And while I'm explaining titles, "Translation" doesn't just refer to the fact the title's in English, it also means a movement from one place to another, or one state of being to another. The Exarchs are translating from a high fantasy genre inspired by the Exalted RPG setting to more of a "Challengers of the Unknown" meets "Jackie Chan Adventures" style. Yes, Jack will be back, I just wanted to focus on my four Looniversal pseudo-exiles this episode. As for some of the place references, here's some info. Kansas City is home to a big Society for Creative Anachronism group, and I figured that in the Superguy world, there'd also be a group for recreating Superguy stuff (making costumes, hoping for Origins, etc). Konza Prairie is about five miles south of Manhattan, KS. It's very hilly, and it was recently burned down as described in the story. K-State does not have an Applied Metaphysics program, but Call Hall on campus is home to a major dairy sciences program (and a popular ice cream and cheese store). The original Stanley King, the Cheeez Arrow, had all sorts of gimmicks based on wild and fanciful cheese concoctions. http://www.protoformproject.com/dvd/drawings/skysabrex2.JPG shows Skysabre's new costume. Finally, Kat will be making some guest appearances in Team M.E.C.H.A. soon, assume they fit in between the spaces in upcoming episodes of Exarchs. }-> Yes, they'll be catching up in continuity.