Legion World Forums LEGION OUTPOST Mission Monitor Board 100 Toothpicks

Exnihil: All right, Clocky, you ready to do this? You think seven months is a long enough rest for you?

Computer: I beg your pardon, sir? You are well aware that I require no rest. I was fully prepared to continue last October. It was you who...

Ex: Sigh.... Fine, we're both to blame. (Ex meta-textually looks off panel, gives a quick "no" head shake and surreptitiously points to his computer). Anyway... it's time to hit that rowdy road again in search of refreshment and other, sundry things.

Computer: Sundry, sir?

Ex: Yeah... well... while you were sleeping, I might have helped the LMB Espionage Squad retrieve an ancient artifact covered in strange archaic symbols that has no business existing on Legion World at all.

Computer: You?

Ex: What's that supposed to mean? Yes, me! (Ex pulls the object that he retrieved from the Hills out of his bag and holds it up to his computer's visual sensor).

Computer: Processing... processing... hmmm... that appears to be a bronze scarab, sir. Terran in origin... likely fashioned during the Pre-Egyptian era. If you like, I could transla...

Ex: Pre-Egyptian, eh? This could be important! We need to get this thing translated at once.

Computer: Yes... as I was saying, sir... my own datastores have access to over four quadrillion distinct character sets and I am fully capable of...

Ex (his eyes growing bigger): Character what now?

Computer: Sets. In other words...

Ex: That's it! Clocky, you're brilliant! I know who our next target is. Lay in a course to...

Computer: Seriously? All the things I can do and you're just going to default to your old habi... sigh... this is going to be a long year. Processing... processing... as you wish, Target 26, sir:











And awaaaaaaaay we go!

Welcome back, fair thread watchers, to another exciting season of 100 Toothpicks!

We're getting an early start this year, because as the distances Ex must travel to complete his mission increase so, too, might the time in between individual installments. Fear not, though, by the time this round draws to a close we'll double our toothpick count... or my name isn't, "The Narrator".


Wait... is that right? "The Narrator"? Somebody get my agent on the line...


In the mean time, though, kick back... relax... fix yourself a martini... and enjoy:





Or... rather... enjoy it in a few days... when Ex gets home and finally uploads his pics (yeesh... this whole thing just reeks of amateurism.)

March 30, 2PM:



Ex: W... why.... you don't look like a demonic Egyptian god, at all!

Set (laughing, as Ex sits down): Ha, ha... that's right, we haven't served any LMB missions together yet, have we?

Ex: No, I only know you from the monitor board... but I always assumed...

Set: ...that I was the actual deity? Ha, ha... no... don't worry, though, I get that a lot. I might draw my powers from the old pantheon, but I'm as human as you.

Ex: Whew... that's a relief. Here I was thinking I was about to have lunch with a death god.

Set: That's another thing, though... you know, the real Set wasn't actually a dark god, at all. Originally, he known as a servant of Ra. He helped stave off the evil serpent Apep and the forces of Chaos. All that "evil" rep was just a later corruption, by the Greeks.

Ex: Yeeeeeah... but didn't he, like, kill his brother?

Set: Osiris? Twice, actually... but he had his reasons.

Ex: Yeah... yeah... that's right, and wasn't there something about him...

Set: ...chopping up his brother's body into forty-two pieces and strewing them across the country? No... I don't think I ever heard that. Oh, look... lunch!





Set (digging in): So... you said in your message that you had something you wanted me to look at... some Egyptian text?

Ex: Yeah, thanks... (pulling out the scarab and handing it to Set). Here you are... I can't make hide nor hair of this.

Set (looking over the text): Hmmm... these bear some familiarity to the hieroglyphs I'm familiar with, but they seem a bit more primitive. I think they actually might pre-date what we traditionally think of as "Egyptian".

Ex: How do you mean?

Set: Oh, there's lot of misconceptions out there about Egypt. A lot of people's ideas don't extend much beyond what they read in "Antony and Cleopatra".

Ex: I'm sorry, read in what, now?

Set: Oh, you don't know that one? It's an old play they used to teach in school... Shakespeare, you know?

Ex (rubbing his chin): Hmm... Shakespeare, you say...








What's this?

Could our hero be about to continue his vodka-driven journey based merely upon the thinnest of connecting narrative threads?

The smart money says, "Yes... yes, he could be!"


Be here - shortly - for the next exciting chapter, as Ex seeks out the aid of perhaps the most academic-minded of all the LMBers -



in an episode we just had to call:






... All right, fine... admittedly we didn't have to call it that.

... I'm sure another title would have suited it equally as well.

... Look, it's just hyperbole. Nothing has to be called anything, really.

... It's a literary device, OK? Get off my back already... sheesh! I bet William Dozier never had to put up with this.

April 1, 9AM:


Ex (walking into the diner, talking to his Omni-3014) : ...and don't forget to add cleome to the list, Clocky. I can't say too much right now, but there's a distinct possibility that there may be a plant within the ranks of the LMB!

Computer : Sir, please tell me you don't think that means...

Ex (interrupting, as he sees Kent Shakespeare) : Great day in the morning! Kent... where's your hair?

Kent Shakespeare (laughing, as Ex sits across from him) : What? I thought message-board shaving reveals were all the rage this season.





Ex: All right, all right... touche. (Looks at the menu) Hmm... I'm thinking... a vodka martini?

Kent: Ex, it's breakfast.

Ex: ...and a piece of toast?

Kent: Now, a toast I can do.

Ex: Well played, sir. So... I assume you got my message.

Kent: Well... yes... but... I afraid you've got the wrong guy, Ex. I'm not the same "Shakespeare" who wrote "Antony and Cleopatra". That was actually one of my 16th century ancestors. Bit of a black sheep, that one. Not a lot is really known about him... some people say he sort of resembled that old LMB villain, the Archduke of Time. Personally, I don't see it. They have completely different eye-wear.





Ex: Hmm... so you don't know anything about Pre-Egypt?

Kent: Well, a little... but it's certainly not my area of expertise. I'm more of a "Camelot" type guy.

Ex: Man... so, this stop is a bust, huh?

Kent: Well, now... don't be so hasty. I might not personally have the resources you need, but there's another LMBer not far from here who maintains massive reference files. If anybody would have some useful info, I'll bet he would.

Ex: You don't mean...?









But, indeed, fair readers - Kent Shakespeare did mean.

And, thus, our pair of intrepid heroes set out together across the land in search of the LMB's master of scrupulously-maintained cross references (while at least one of them was hoping that the journey would bring them into the lunch hour, such that a martini order might be more appropriate) in our next installment, called...





Be There!

April 1, 1PM:


(Ex and Kent sit at the table, waiting patiently as their teammate, Chaim Mattis Keller, pores over his reference files.)


Chaim Mattis Keller (looking down): Hmmmm...

Ex: What? What do you...

Chaim (still reading): Oh, that's interesting...

Kent: Did you find a...

Chaim (still reading): Wow... and who would have thought that?

Ex (interrupting): Chaim!

Chaim (suddenly looking up): Oh, sorry, guys... this is just fascinating stuff. I have to admit, Ex, when you and Kent first asked me to look at this, I had my doubts. My people didn't exactly have the best relationship with the ancient Egyptians, you know what I'm saying?

Ex: Yeah, I know, thanks for doing me a solid.

Kent: So, what did you find out?

Chaim: Hmmm... well... it's kind of a huge block of narrative exposition... you sure we shouldn't just do the holo-pic first, and let the casual readers drop?

Ex: Oooooh... that's smart thinking... smile everybody:





Chaim: Nice! Now... info-dump. So, you're right... this scarab actually does predate the traditional "Egyptian" kingdoms. Based on the style of characters that are inscribed on it, the reference files indicate that it's probably from the "Proto-dynastic" period... the last gasp of the Naqada culture, and the early beginnings of what we might think of as hieroglyphic writing. Now, these particular characters are very crude, but I think I've been able to piece together a rough outline.

Ex: What have we got?

Chaim: OK, first... this section up here seems to indicate that the scarab itself was a storage container. The reference files indicate that containers of this type and material were often buried alongside an individual and used to hold whatever valuables the person wished to take with them into the next world. When you first found this, Ex, was there anything inside?

Ex: No!

Chaim: Yes, yes... that's very convincing. (shakes his head) Moving on... this section here seems to be focused on the contemporary history of the time. As I say, it's hard to tell exactly, but there seems to be some sort of power struggle... these characters here seem very similar to the later glyph that indicates "magic" or "magician" and this here is a very distinct image of a cat-headed woman wearing a traditional hedjet crown.

Kent: A god?

Chaim: There's only one God, Kent, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that. Now... here's the really odd thing... do you see this section here? It appears that this is actually not the original text here. This section, at some point, was scratched out and a new block inscribed. It took a little bit of digging, but deep in the reference files I found a match. These characters correspond to a leader of Egypt that only reigned for a few years... in fact, oftentimes he's not even listed, leading some to consider him apocryphal. Well, anyway... here... (spins the reference file around for the pair to see):





Ex: OK... is that supposed to mean something?

Chaim: Phonetically, it reads, "Mn Kri Htp Dc Nsw". Now, the latter part shows up in a ton of later texts - they are the opening words of a funerary offering formula - but the first two words are very odd. The first, "Mn," means, "to be established," and the second, "Kri," means "storm".

Ex: So... "Established by the storm," maybe?

Chaim: That's what I'm thinking.

Ex (shakes his head): OK... all fine and good... but why in the world would this thing be on Legion World? I mean... it's definitely Terran, right?

Chaim: Ahhh... now here's where things get really interesting. Up until this point I'd only been consulting the public reference files, but they don't call me, Legion Reference File Lad for nothing. On a hunch, I thought it might be a good idea to cross reference all this info against the LMB files I maintain. Now... this isn't a perfect match, mind you... but you know how when they first join, LMB members have to list all the aliases they've used in the past? Well... it just so happens that one of our members used to call himself, "Menkuri Hotep Dic Nasewi". (swings the file around). This guy:

Ex: Him? B... but he's....

Chaim: Is he?

Kent: Yes... wait... isn't he?

Ex: Yes! I think he is! He's....







BUMP, BUMP, BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMP!!!


WHO is....

WHAT is...

Indeed, WHERE is...


MENKURI HOTEP???



I'll be damned if I know.

Quite honestly, half the time I have no idea what Ex is even talking about.



But if you are curious - about this or, like, any of a half a dozen other dangling plot threads... like, for instance, the whole martini thing... I mean, didn't this thing start out as Ex's half-cocked idea to settle a bar tab? And now he's on some LMB quest with dead pharaohs and time traveling bards? I just... I can't... I...

Anyway, if you are curious, be sure to keep your eyes peeled over the next few months as the strange tale unravels and all your questions are answered.




Possibly.

(Exnihil pulls out holo-files one by one... reads off the name... and then tosses it over his shoulder)

Ex: ... "Hungry Lad"... nope... "Napalm Kid"... nope... "Lucky Jim"... nope...

Computer: Sir... sir, you are making a mess...

Ex: ... "Earthquake"... "Tank"... "Dr. Johnny Diablo"... nope... nope... nope. Man... the LMB has a ton of members!

Computer: May I ask exactly what it is you're looking for, sir?

Ex: ..."Sunray"... "Astronette"... hmmm, what's that, Clocky... wait... "Wonderpoop"? Seriously? We actually have a member named, "Wonderpoop"?

Computer: Sir, you've been going through the files of the retired, deceased, inactive, and honorary LMBers for hours now. Is there a point to all this?

Ex: Oooh... "Beowulf"... cool! Better keep that guy away from Grendel the Lurker, am I righ... oh, hey... "Fart Girl"! So that's where she's been! Wait until I tell Lardy. What are you on about, Clocky? Why am I reviewing all these files? I would think it's obvious... I'm looking for some sort of clue about our mysterious "Menkuri Hotep".

Computer: Clue? Mysterious? Sir... you know exactly who he is. He's the former LMBer known as...

Ex (interrupting): Yes, yes... of course I know who he is. It's the what "happened to him" that concerns me. Has he retired... is he on an extended leave... is he dead?

Computer: He often has been.

Ex: True... but this feels different, somehow. And that fact that out in the middle of the Legion World Hills, buried under the snow, the LMB Espionage Squad has me dig up an arcane artifact with his name carved in it? C'mon, now. If anybody has information about the true target of "Operation: 100 Toothpicks," I've got a hunch it would be him.

Computer: Ah, ha! I knew it! I knew there was more to your "drinking tour" than just trying to settle a bar tab, which - by the way, sir - makes absolutely no sense. You really should come up with a better cover story. I mean...

Ex (interrupting): Fine, yes... you're right, Clocky... I might as well level with you. This whole thing - the martinis... the meetings with LMBers... the scarab... all of it - is really just a front to figure out who is alteri... waaaaaaaaaait a minute... wait just a minute!

Computer: What is it? What did you find, sir?

Ex: Oh, nothing having to do with Menkuri... I've just always wanted to have a drink with this girl.

Computer: Seriously, sir? Do you really think that now is the time for frivolity? Now that I know that you're on a legitimate mission, I really think you should focus on the problem at han...

(Ex holds up the file to the Omni's visual sensor)

Computer: Oh! Hello. Yes, I see your point, sir. Hmmm... it appears, however, that she's been on inactive duty for several years now. Are you certain that...

Ex: Am I certain? What a question!

Computer: Yes... and the answer?

Ex: Just plot the course, Clocky...

Computer: As you wish, sir. Processing... processing... target 29 acquired:








Ahhhhh... the plot thins!


WHO is the "True Target"?

WHAT is the real objective behind "Operation: 100 Toothpicks"?

WHEN is this nonsense ever going to end?

WHERE is "Menkuri Hotep"?

WHY on Earth would Target 29 ever agree to have a drink with Ex?

HOW does Fart Girl tie into any of this?






ALL of this - and more - gets unceremoniously shunted to the back burner, as an old friend returns for...






PLUS: The Incredible, Astounding, Non-Sequitorial Return of... Target 7!



(Who is that? Oh, come on, now... it's only a few pages back...)

(Seriously... just click the...)

(Siiiiiiiiigh... fine, you lazy such and such... it's Quislet, Esq.)

Scene 1:


(Exnihil wanders through Legion World's Statue Way Park as the song, "Son of a Durlan Man" plays ambiently throughout. He looks around, seemingly lost)

Ex: Hello?

Sound of a female voice being broadcast: Ex.

(Ex looks around)

Female voice (singsong): Ehhhhhhhhex...I'm on your Omnicom.

(Ex looks down at his com): Wh... where are you?

Female voice: I'm over by the wall... by the big dragony fellow. To your right.

(Ex continues looking)

Female voice: Warm... waaaarmer... Caliente!




Ex: Caliente! Right on. So... where we heading, kitty cat?

Cali: Kamil Baktra Slim's, daddio... they've got a shurg dance contest tonight.

Ex: Not that Silver Age place? Ugh... c'mon, that place is like a wax museum with a pulse.

Cali (vehemently): No, no, no... I do believe I said you could take me out if we did whatever I wanted. Now... I wanna dance... I wanna win... and I want that trophy... so dance good.

(Caliente hops off the dragon and starts dancing away toward Ex's shuttle)

Cali (singing) : It was a teenage wedding between a Titan girl and a Winathi-een... You could see that young Garth did truly love Miss Imra Ardeen...



Ex (sighing to himself): Why does my life always seem like I'm living in some sort of holo-vid?




Scene 2:


(Kamil Baktra Slim's, interior. Ex and Cali sit at the table as a waiter dressed as Flynt Brojj sets down their drinks)

Waiter: Vodka Martini.... and a 50 credit Bloody Marte.

(Waiter leaves as Cali takes a sip)

Cali: Mmmm... yummy.

Ex (leaning over): You think I could have a sip of that?

Cali: Be my guest.

Ex: I gotta know what a 50 credit drink tastes like. (Ex goes to remove the straw)

Cali: You can use my straw... I don't have cooties.

Ex: Yeah, but maybe I do.

Cali: Cooties I can handle.

Ex: All right... (places the straw back in and sips) Bloody liberty! This is a pretty sprocking good drink.

Cali: Told you.

Ex: I don't know if it was worth fifty credits... but it's pretty sprocking good.

Passing holo-pic photographer: Holo-pic, you two? Smile!

Ex: Sure. (Ex puts his arm around Cali as she leans in closer. Her eyes begin to flame red as her power slightly kicks in).



(Ex looks at Cali as she looks back silently. They lock eyes. For a moment, an odd tension hangs in the air. Ex laughs slightly).

Ex: Is that what you call an "uncomfortable silence"?

Cali: I don't know what to call that. (laughs) I'll tell you what... I'm going to go to the bathroom and powder my nose while you sit here and think of something to say. (she gets up and leaves).

Ex: Yeah... I'll do that.

(Ex shakes his head and begins quietly musing. Suddenly a person sits down next to him, almost making Ex jump out of his seat.)

Quislet Esq.: Having fun?

Ex: Ahhh! Quis! Grife... you scared me, man!

Passing holo-pic photographer: Holo-pic, you two? Smile!




Ex: Sheesh... what is with that guy? Anyway... Quis... what are you doing here?

Quis: Well... as your lawyer, I'm here to prevent you from getting involved in a crime.

Ex: What? You mean Cali? C'mon, brother... there's no law against flirting on Legion World. Sheesh... it's almost compulsory.

Quis: True... I'm quite the fan of the Victorian variety myself, but I'm not talking about flirting... I'm talking about murder.

Ex: What... not hers?

Quis: No... yours. I'm pretty sure that your sword-wielding ninja girlfriend, My Whee Fem, wouldn't take too kindly to Cali heating things up around you. And... all that aside... I'm also fairly certain you're bordering on some serious copyright infringement with your little "Pulp Fiction" riff here. If this evening winds up with you in Doc Mayavale's living room with him searching frantically for a "little black medical book"... I really don't think I can help you.

Ex: Oh, come on... this sequence isn't that derivative.

Cali (sliding back into the booth): Quis! Long time no see. (looks down at the burger that the waiter has brought for her.) Oh, man... ketchup.

Quis (to Ex): Ketchup.

Ex: Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh... fine.

(Quis smirks)

Ex: Listen... Cali... I hate to drink and run, but, you know... a toothpick hunter's job is never done. Quis is going to hang out and keep you company.

Cali: Aww... where are you off to next?

Ex: Hmm... I dunno... how's your sister these days?

Cali: Frio? No way. A - she's not my sister... and B - trust me, you should just steer clear from that one. She's a sketchy chick.

Ex: I'm sorry... she's a what kind of chick?

Cali: Sketchy.

Ex: That's it! CLOCKY!!! Set a course!

Computer: Just eminently predictable, aren't we, sir? Sigh... processing... processing... target 30 acquired:







That's right, fair thread watchers!

Old Home Week continues here on 100 Toothpicks, as Ex visits next with one of the finest artists ever to grace the halls of the Museum of Legion Arts... and the only other LMB member whose narcissism rivals Ex's own!

What will happen when the respective irresistible force and immovable object of self-admiration finally meet?

Find out shortly on:

It was a fantastic day all around... even if things were a bit Sketchy from time to time. /bad pun

One question: Where's the shot of us three together??

[out of character]



Oh, sister, you haven't seen the half of it, yet



The one from the restaurant had really bad lighting, and the one from the tea shop... I don't know what that dude was doing with my camera, but - trust me - that pic does none of us any favors. If you like, I'll shoot them over to you, but they're not really "post-worthy".

[/out of character]

(Exnihil and Sketch Lad sit at the bar, involved in a rather heated discussion.)


Exnihil: I'm sorry, but I just don't see how you could possibly think that.

Sketch Lad: Maybe because... it's true? And the sooner you accept it... the sooner the healing can begin.

Ex: Dude... not a chance. You're living in a fantasy world. The fact is... in no possible universe are you better looking than me!

Sketchy (waves Ex off with the back of his hand): Whatever. Son, I was turning heads when you when you still thought pomade was something you put on a sandwich.

Ex: Pomade? Oh... you really want to go there? Yeah... let's talk about hair. I recently heard someone said that I have the best hair on all of Legion World.

Sketchy (incredulously): What? Who said that?

Ex (sheepishly): Well... fine... it was Poverty Lad, but... so what?

Sketchy (laughing): Oh, right... like Pov would know anything about hair!

Ex: Arrgh... this is getting us nowhere. If you're not able to admit a patently obvious fact, we're just going to have to agree to disagree.

Sketchy: Fair enough. Let's just say that we're both gorgeous, and leave it at that.

Ex: I'll drink to that.



Ex (sips): Oh! And both of us are better looking than Lash.

Sketchy: Well, yeah, of course... that goes without saying.

Ex: Good. So... anyway... thanks again for coming out tonight, Dean. I know you've been on inactive duty for a bit, but I was really hoping your powers might be able to help me with this quest I've been on.

Sketchy: You want me to invoke the Divaforce? You need some beautiful women conjured up?

Ex: In a sense... you see, when I initially contacted you, you were all lined up to be a certain milestone.

Sketchy: Right... I'm the 30th LMB member you've met on this thing, yeah?

Ex: Well, that's just it... I thought you were the 30th target but - when I looked at my computer this morning - you had actually been resequenced to 31!

Sketchy: Hmmm... that's weird. What happened?

Ex: I don't know! There is something very weird going on here. I should probably start by telling you that for the past month or so I've been on the trail of a missing person. There's this guy who, years ago, used to go by the alias "Menkuri Hotep"...

Sketchy: Oh... sure... that's one of our old teammates. That used to be an alias of De...

Ex (interrupting in astonishment): Wait just a minute... how in the world do you know that!?

Sketchy: Oh, I've known about him for years now. He and I got talking about his past during one of our joint shows at the Museum of Legion Arts. That guy's lived one heck of a life... er... lives. I haven't heard from him in a while, though.

Ex: Right... it's like he just disappeared or something. Well, anyway, it's obvious that he's been on my mind a lot recently because - last night - I had the strangest dream involving him.

Sketchy: OK... but what's this have to do with your computer?

Ex: Well, funny you should ask. So... when I woke up this morning, that's when I noticed the new entry. You will not believe this... here, check it out (hands his Omnicom to Dean).

Sketchy (reading): "100 Toothpicks: Chapter 30 - Foretell Me, Madame Triad". Hmmm... OK. What's that supposed to mean?

Ex: I had no idea... until I looked a little closer. Look again... it's an anagram.

Sketchy: Yeah? All right, let's see here... "foretell... forte... trio... dame... tell... emerald... model... drama... ah! Wait a minute... I've got it... it's: "Dream a Little Dream of Me"!

Ex (nodding): Bingo.

Sketchy: Whoa... that is creepy.

Ex: I know, right? So, anyway, I figure this inserted chapter has to tie in with dream I had. It's all a bit vague, but I do remember it centers around mysterious beautiful women. That's why I knew if anyone could help, it would be you.

Sketchy: Ah... gotcha. All right... well, if it's women you want... just start telling me your dream and I'll see if I can summon up some imagery up via the Divaforce.

Ex: OK... so... it starts off I'm walking down the street heading to this groovy Martini bar...

Sketchy: Like this?



Ex: Come on, get real... nothing's that groovy.

Sketchy (laughing): OK, OK, continue...

Ex: I remember this sort of... I don't know... retro vibe... but at the same time... very odd and disorienting like a carnival...



Sketchy: Hmmm... OK... I'm beginning to envision it... keep talking...

Ex: So... I finally get to the place and...

(A strange glow begins to envelop the room)

Sketchy: Keep going... the veil is beginning to lift...

Ex: ... all around me... are these women...

(The glow continues to grow, enveloping both Ex and Sketchy as everything takes on a kind of surreal veneer.)

Ex: ...each one more beautiful than the last...



Ex: Hey.. wow, that's amazing! I can totally see the way it was in my mind's eye.

Sketchy: That's what I do.

(Slowly, even Ex and Sketchy's very forms begin to alter. Out of nowhere, a beautiful woman appears beside Sketch Lad).

Sketchy: Boy... have I missed you.

Woman: Hi, sweetie!



Ex: Oh, come on, Dean! That's what you look like under the Divaforce?

Sketchy: He who holds the pencils holds the power. Who's got the better hair now?

Ex (looks down at his own transformation): Hey! I'm not this short! And I'll have you know, I quit smoking like a year ago.



Sketchy: Don't worry, Ex... it's just a glamour.

Ex: Yeah... some glamour.

Sketchy (to the Dream Girl construct) : So, Nura... Ex here thinks he's had a meaningful dream. You care to hazard a listen?



TO BE CONTINUED...!!!

(In other words... hold off on the interstitial yapping. This mean you. )

(Ex continues relating his dream to Sketch Lad)





So, like I said... I'm in this Martini Bar, surrounded by the most beautiful women you can imagine. Some were dreamlike... some bewitching... some so regal you'd swear it was an illusion.




In the midst of all of this, however, I spied one violet-haired woman sitting by herself. I don't understand why... but somehow I felt like I was drawn to her... as though by a strange compulsion. As though my will was no longer my own, I moved toward her, preparing my opening.

I sat down beside her and began, "Hi... do you come here oft..." but - before I could even get the words out - she spun toward me and interrupted in a strange language.



"Trois est un nombre magique. Alors... vous n'avez que trois requêtes. Allez!"

"I... uh..." I stammered, and tried to make a quick excuse. "Uh... I'm sorry... I was just looking for a friend of mine. You wouldn't happen to have seen a guy named, Menkuri Hotep, would you?"

She grinned. "That's one. Lad laments on eldest."

"I... wh... what?"

"You know what, sentient? You don't seem very bright, so I'm going to make that one a freebie. Don't get used to it... it won't happen again. Ahem: EDE damns tonal tells."

"I don't... look... I gotta go but... uh..." I thought for a second and figured, what the hell? "Say... do you think maybe I could get your number?"

"That's two. My number these days is 30... for you... and otherwise. But once was a time when everyone knew it was..."

And here she paused and described an image before her. It hung in the air in the way that a shining bronze plaque completely does not:



"HEY!!!"

A shout came from across the room.

"Are you talking to my girl?" I spun around to see a man storming toward me, his eyes ablaze in anger.



"That's a stupid mistake you just made, mister!" He yelled, nearly spitting on me in his rage. "A stupid, Stupid, STUPID mistake!"

But before I could even defend myself, the woman - now looking slightly different in my dream - took his hand and calmed him down.

"Darling, don't worry about this fool. Just let me finish up here, then - if you're good - I'll let you buy me a Xanduan Dazzle Gem. Sound good?"



The man grinned at the woman, nodded, then - shooting me a dirty look - begrudgingly walked away.

"All right," the woman continued, "let's not be all night here. What's your third?"

"My... my thir... I don't even know what you're talking about! I'll tell you one thing, though... that plaque thing you did there looked an awful lot like one of my LMB Monitor Board symbols."

"Ha, ha, ha," she laughed mockingly, "Really? I'm sorry, sentient... but I'm afraid that your sense of design wouldn't begin to capture me. All you boys need an art director to push you in the right direction. Just ask your friend Sketch Lad. If you tried to make a symbol for me, I guarantee you'd go boringly literal... and not even get the legs right. Do these look like a man's legs?" She turned her legs slightly to show me as I looked down.

"Say... are those leg boots?"

"Did... did you just say... 'leg boots'? That's three."





Ex: Then she kicked me in the shin.

Sketchy (laughing): Ha, ha, ha... this is some dream, man! So, what happened next?

Ex: Yeah... so that's where I start to lose it. I was lying there on the floor, holding my shin, when I heard the woman call over to a friend of hers. I think she called her, "Eve" or something...



Ex: This lady comes over and... I don't know... just starts staring at me. The next thing I know the whole room starts spinning and then... cliche time... I woke up in my bed. Yeesh... what a dream!

Sketch Lad: That's it?

Ex: Yeah... isn't that enough?

Sketchy: I'll say. Me needing an art director... hmph... as if. All right, Ex, I'm going to let the Divaforce drop. Hold on... this might be a rough transition.



Ex: Whoa... you weren't kidding! So... what do you think?

Sketchy: About the dream? Well... for starters, I think you're out of luck with Menkuri Hotep.

Ex: What do you mean... you don't think that the whole thing... the dream... the inserted chapter in my computer... you don't think that's him sending me a message?

Sketchy: Maybe... but probably not the message you're looking for. The chapter title was an anagram, right?

Ex: Yeah.

Sketchy: Well... so was the thing that woman told you, "Lad laments on eldest".

Ex: Well... yeah... OK, yeah... I see it now... it was an anagram for the other thing she said, right? "EDE damns tonal tells". But so what? It's just dream nonsense.

Sketchy: No... you're still missing it. Both of those are anagrams for...

Ex: ..."Tell Sandman 'Lo, Teeds"?

Sketchy: ..."Dedman Tells No Tales."

Ex: Whoa.

Sketchy: Whoa, indeed. Well... congratulations on the most ridiculous plot twists to date... I can't wait to see what's next.

Ex: I don't writes 'em, buddy... I lives 'em.

(Exnihil rolls over in bed, yawning)

Computer: Well, good morning sir. I trust your evening with Target 31 went well? I certainly hope you took good notes, as you didn't even see fit to turn on my higher-level functions during your meeting.

Ex (crawling out of bed): Yawn... you're pushing your luck there, Clocky. Quite franky - considering that whole Target 30/Target 31 sequencing glitch - I'm thinking of trading you in for a newer model. What is wrong with you? Emily been hacking your cell-banks again?

Computer: Glitch? I can assure you, sir, there is no error whatsoever in my sequencing dr...

Ex (interrupting): Blah, blah, blah... whatever, Glitchy McGlitchface. Just know this: if we encounter any "pod bay doors" you're to stay the heck away from them! Anything interesting in this morning's LMB ENQUIRER?

Computer: Processing... processing... headlines, sir:


"BOIRE-AGE" À TROIS??? SHAMELESS MB MISS IN SKETCHY MEETUP WITH FREQUENT-FLYING SPACE-LUSH? PHOTOS PAGE 3!


Ex: Ugh... close file. Too early in the morning for that. Sheesh... that rag gets more and more lurid every year. I don't even understand the headlines half the time. What is a "space-lush" supposed to be anyway?

Computer: Definition: Lush... adjective... (of vegetation, plants, grasses, etc.) luxuriant or succulent; noun... a sot, a drunkar...

Ex: Hmmm... vegetation, you say? You know... there was that whole bit about there being a plant in the LMB.

Computer: Sir, as I've attempted to explain to you numerous times, that doesn't...

Ex (interrupting): And, quite honestly, if I wanted to kill two birds with one stone... I have been having a mysterious pain in my shin, perhaps some aloe vera is just the thing for it.

Computer: There is no mystery at all, sir. When you were meeting...

Ex: Exactly! It's time to set up a meeting. Clocky... get me Target 31!

Computer: Target 32, sir.

Ex: You say tomato... I say they give me heartburn.

Computer: Processing... processing... Target 32 acquired:









That's right, pickies!

It's time for the "wearin' o' the green" as our hero... uh...

..."plants his roots" and declares that it's... umm...

..."elemental, dear readers" when he meets...



Ugh... you know what?

This is just horrible copy. I mean really bad. As a professional, I refuse to be a part of this. Suffice to say:


Exnihil meets cleome... and all definitions of "lush" come into play (they are surrounded by plants and they drink... a lot) in...







All this... plus:

The jaws that bite... the claws that catch... the untamed rage of... "El Sid"!

BEWARE!!!

But...above all...

BE THERE!!!

(See how much better that is? "Elemental, dear readers," indeed... sheesh!)

Exnihil: Thanks again for meeting with me, Cleome. Of all the LMB members, I really feel like you might have a unique perspective on this thing I've been investigating.

Cleome: No problem, doll. Anything I can do to help. One word of warning though... I've heard through the grapevine that your visits tend to be a little - hmm... how should I put it - liquid-centric? I just want to warn you... you are aware that my physiology is like 50% plant-based, right?

Ex: Um.... I suppose. Why?

Cleome: Well... no reason... it's just been my experience that most animalae don't require nearly the same level of moisture absorption that I do.

Ex: Wait... is that a challenge?

Cleome: Yikes! No... not in the least! Trust me, it's probably safest that you don't even try.

Ex: Wh... wh... well, I never!

Cleome: That's right, dude.... trust me... you never did.

Ex: Waiter!

Cleome: Siiiiiiiiiigh... it's gonna be a long night. Nice color shirt, by the way.









Five rounds (or - in other words - thirty minutes) later:



Cleome: ...and if I had to classify his nature, I would definitely say that Dedman's revenantions exhibited all of the same characteristics as those of a perrenial. But even perrenials aren't immune from the... (looks at Ex as he stares blanky off into space). Hey.... are you OK, there, pal? Heya... Exxy-boy... still with me? (she snaps her fingers as Ex shakes his head and looks back at her, glassy-eyed).

Ex (slurring): Thash... thash a funny name.

Cleome: What... "Dedman"? Or that name you said he used to go by... uh... Menkuri something?

Ex: Hodepp... no... TEP. Ho-tep. Buh, nah, nah... I mean yer name. Cleome. Cleeeeee... ohhhhhhh... meeeeee. Thash... thash... ha, ha... hmph... yer like... yer like... a flower.

Cleome: Oy vey. Listen... seriously... are you OK? I told you that you didn't have to keep up.

Ex: Nah, nah... I'm good... I'm good... jus... jus tell me 'bout the prennyals.

Cleome: Perrenials. OK... well... I was just saying that the way that Deddy would always come back to life was very similar to the life cycle of a perrenial. They die off each autumn... but their root stock is still active. Below the surface, the life force still remains, waiting to rebloom the following spring.

Ex: Tha makesh... a lotta shense.

Cleome: Yeah... but even perrenials can die if they get entagled in the root structure of something else... something toxic.

Ex: Like whaa?

Cleome: Well, take... for instance... the black walnut tree:



Cleome: Some things can grow perfectly fine in its shadow... bluebells... daylilies... irises. But you just try to grow a peony under a black walnut. Walnut tree roots secrete a substance called "juglone". It's completely toxic to peonies. You plant them next to each other and... well - to put it in layman's terms - the peonies will eventually just suffocate. But, you know, what are you gonna do? That's just the way it is in the world of Viridiplantae.

Ex: Viridi...

Cleome: ...plantae. It just means "green plants". It was an old Terran naturalist - Pliny the Elder - who first wrote about the black waln...

Ex (excitedly): Yeah! Yeah! Pliny-thelder... thash the guy tha Cobie is allays talkin' 'bo...

Cleome: Seriously... dude... you're sure you're OK?

Ex: Yeah, yeah... 'm'good.

Cleome: All right... well... OK. So... consider, for instance, the noble palm frond...



(Ex falls off his stool and passes out).

Cleome: Sigh... animalae. Always the same. All right, come on, doll... let's get you out of here...







LATER:


(Ex, eyes closed, feels a heavy pressure on his chest. Tentatively, he opens one eye and sees...).



Ex: AGGGGGHHHHHH! (bolting up, as the cat leaps down and runs behind a holo-shelf): Stoopid Cat? Is that you? Wh... where am I? What are you doing here?

(The cat peeks out from behind the shelf and lets out a displeased, "Mmmmmmrrroooooooeew".)

Ex (standing up and walking toward the shelf): Oh... you're going to play it coy, now? After all this? Do you know what I've been through this past year? How many people I've met with in search of even the smallest lead? I feel like I'm not one iota closer to even knowing who this "great enemy" is. And... on top of that... the only lead I do have points to a Dedman who... by all evidence... probably is a dead man.

(The cat, still just peeking out, narrows his eyes at Ex and retreats further behind the shelf.)

Ex: Oh, no you don't! You don't get off that easy.

(He reaches behind the shelf).

Ex: What's the matter, huh? No pithy words? No enigmatic riddles? You know what Chaim told me was inscribed on that scarab? A cat-headed woman! I don't suppose you'd have any thoughts on thAAAAAAAAAHHHHHOOOOWWW!

(Ex recoils in pain and runs to the bathroom to tend to the cat bite.)

Cleome (running into the now empty room): What is going on in he...? Sid! What are you doing back there? C'mere you... (leaning over to pick him up). Were you bothering poor Ex? You've got to let the space-lush sleep it off... he's got a long trip ahead of him.

Sid (mewing): Mmmmm... I'm sorry. But... he called me a stupid cat.

Cleome: Oh... he did, did he? (Petting him behind his ear, as the cat mews.) You're not a stupid cat... now are you? No. A bit of jerkface, maybe... but certainly not stupid.

Sid: Hey!









And... thus... did the month of April end for our hero... as ignobly as it began, true... but far richer for having spent it in the company of no fewer than eight of his fellow teammates.

Where will the grand quest next lead... as we enter into the month of May... and beyond?

Watch this space for all the exciting details!



(Just not... you know... continually or anything. You'll hurt your eyes that way. )

Computer: Incoming com, sir.

Exnihil: Who's calling... it's not Semi, is it? I still haven't settled my SHAKES tab from like a year ago.

Computer: No, sir. It appears to be your teammate, Karie... the so-called "Girl of Tomorrow".

Ex: Oh... neat! Believe it or not, though, Clocky, she's not "so-called" that, at all. Karie actually lives in the future. She's a super-cool girl, but her powers always make conversations a little bit difficult. I'm never quite sure when she is. Patch her through.

Karie (on the omnicom): Hello?

Ex: Hey, Karie! What's up?

Karie: Oh, Ex... I'm glad I got a hold of you before you left.

Ex: Huh... left for where?

Karie: For your meeting with Cobie. First off, by the way, thanks again for last night. Martini nights are always so much fun. But, listen... what I told you? I have to apologize. I was wrong.

Ex: Last night? Karie, I think you've got your days mixed up. When are you calling me from?

Karie: September 22nd. Why? When is it on your end? Oh, man, tell me we haven't even gone out, yet.

Ex: Not even close... that's like four months away.

Karie: Ooooohhhh, damn. It's always so hard to figure out how to place calls correctly.

Ex: No worries... but now I'm totally looking forward to meeting you this coming autumn! So... you want to tell me what you were wrong about, though? That way, maybe I can just correct you when you tell me four months from now and you won't have to call me now, the next day, four months earlier.

Karie: Won't that mess up the whole... um... space-time... uh... thingy?

Ex: Bah... live dangerously.

Karie: All right. Well... so... last night - when we were talking about the future - I told you how I saw it all ending...

Ex: All what? My toothpick project?

Karie: Maybe... I don't know... just... all. I saw you sitting with Cobalt Kid in some roadside pub. You are both drinking some sort of beer...

Ex: Let me guess... "Pliny the Elder"?

Karie: Exactly! Wow... you're good. Anyway, you guys are laughing and having a good time and then - all of a sudden - your face goes really serious. Cobie asks you something... but you just look at him with a look of horror. You stand up slowly and say, "Oh my god... it was two. All along... it was two." Then everything goes black.

Ex: Two? Two what?

Karie: How should I know? It's your future, I just looked into tomorrow to see it for you. Maybe you meant... or will mean... "Target Two"? Last night you told me that I was "Target Fort..."

Ex (interrupting): But wait... Cobie was Target Two... that doesn't make any... hold on! You said you were wrong. What part were you wrong about?

Karie: Oh... it doesn't go black.

Ex: No?

Karie: No... it goes white.

Ex: You called me to tell me that?

Karie: Hey, I take my job seriously, buddy. Little things like that sometimes make all the difference.

Ex: Fair enough. Well... honestly... I have no idea what this all means. I guess I'll just have to wait and see. One thing is certain, though. It would seem - after all this time - that the beginning of the end of the end of the beginning has begun.

Karie: Or will.

Ex: Will who? Not... Shakespeare???

Karie: What? No, you know what... nevermind... just say, "goodbye," Ex.

Ex: Goodbye, Ex. (Karie hangs up, as Ex looks pensive). Hmmmm... foreshadowing. Your key to quality literature.

Computer: snicker.

Ex: Editorial comment?

Computer: Wouldn't dream of it, sir.

Yay!! So I have four months to work out what I'm going to tell you that I want you to forget about.

I'm glad the photos turned out good. I usually don't mix very well with magic. Which reminds me, did we ever go over the findings of that scarab we found?

(Exnihil wakes screaming): AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Ahem... cough... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Computer: Bad dream, sir?

Exnihil (panting): The worst! I think I've finally figured out the other meaning of the abbreviation "WTF"! I... I can't even begin to describe it... it was so raw... so... so... savage!

Computer: "Martini served in a rocks glass" savagery , sir? That does sound frightening.

Ex: Ha-ha... mock if you will, Clocky, but this was no violet-haired woman speaking French in a cocktail lounge type of dream...

Computer: Neither was the time you met a violet-haired woman speaking French in a cocktail lo...

Ex (interrupting): This was so real... and surreal at the same time. I can only remember it in flashes, but one thing stands out... it said it was the "Final Chapter".

Computer: The Final Ch... wait... I'm sorry, I don't follow you, sir. The dream said that? What does that even mea...

Ex (interrupting again): What if... what if it were a dream of the future? What if Karie is... er... will be... right? What if the end of the 100 Toothpicks mission is the end of it all?!

Computer: Or... what if it were simply a bad dream, sir?

Ex: Well... I - for one - am not willing to risk it. I need to get away for a bit.

Computer: Get away? Sir, with all due respect, all you do is "get away".

Ex: True, but this time, I think I need to get... FAR away.

Computer: Sigh... just a master of the subtle transition, aren't you, sir?

Ex (ignoring his computer as he begins rifling through his closet): Hmmm... now what did I do with that letter of passage...




CONTINUED...


SHORTLY...

(Exnihil still rifling through papers, suddenly bolts up waving a document in his hand.)


Exnihil: Ah-ha! Found it!

Computer: Is that a piece of... paper?

Ex: Yeah, well... Darden's a bit old fashioned when it comes to things like this. He's a huge history buff. Here... check it out. (Ex holds the paper to his Omni's optic sensor)



Computer: Sir, forgive me... but that looks entirely forged.

Ex (yanking back his letter of passage): Yeah, well... it's not. Believe it or not, back in 3009 - before I actually joined the LMB - I helped them save the entire universe during the "Thyme Crime".

Computer: And what - pray tell - is a "Thyme Crime"?

Ex: It was this huge mission. Lardy had won this game show and Cobie was shot by this possessed hobo and... look... I know it sounds odd, but it was incredible. There were these eco-warrior space-bikers, and... like... this meek 1930's librarian or something... and a... umm... naked... ahem... mole rat.

Computer: Indeed.

Ex: Oh, just look it up! Anyway, I helped save the day, and - in return for not allowing the villain's damages to extend to the Faraway Places and endangering all these treaties or whatever - Faraway Lad hooked all of us up with these lifetime passport letters. Pretty cool, eh?

Computer: Be that as it may sir, may I inquire how exactly you intend on getting there? It's not as though the Faraway Places are somewhere you just hop in a personal shuttle and drive to.

Ex: Ah... well, that's where I make use of another little memento from the past (Ex holds up a small mechanical looking device that immediately begins pinging.)

Computer: Is that... good lord, sir! Sir, please be careful... that's a Mother Bo...

Ex: Stand back, Clocky.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!



Power Boy: Heya, Ex! You all packed?




And so, fair readers, begins the most fantastic leg of Exnihil's space and time spanning toothpick quest yet!


For the next week or so, he'll be off exploring the deepest reaches of the Faraway Places, joining some of his more remotely located teammates from across the galactic gulf.

Fear not, though, faithful thread followers... upon his return, this entire amazing journey will be recounted here for your reading and viewing pleasure. (Wait... hold on... did Ex - in so many words - just offer to have you sit through his "vacation holos"? Hoo boy... does the fun ever start?)


Join us, won't you, as the whole thing kicks off in force next week with:




Cheers!

"Most fantastic," HAR-umpf!!! I HAR-dly think Faraway Place is more fantastic than East Toledo. I warn you, I know people, people in EAST Faraway Place, you don't want to mess with.

Where is my Super Villain cape, I'll see you in the NEXT saga: "100 Foo Foo Umbrellas!"

From
Embassy Building
Novacastra
Planet Wallguard
Middle March.

To
The Most Noble Lord High Commissioners for Outremer, the Marches and the Barbarian Lands
Board of Trade and Commerce
Whitehall Quadrant
Webers World

CC Permanent Under Secretary of State Trade Department 9
Assistant Deputy Under Secretary.
Chef de Bureau SIS Mission Operations.

[B] A Report on the Visit of the LMBP’er Exnihil to the Faraway lands and the conversations therein. [B/]

From
Sir Darden Coulthard, Baron of Winterhall, Lord Warden of the Marches, Castellan of the Newcastle on the Wall. Ambassador to Faraway Places.


Most Noble Lords, I beg leave to submit the following report on a series of meetings between your humble servant and the LMBP member known as Exnihil occurring over a period of two standard Earth days.

As instructed by your illustrious selves I attempted to ascertain by various adaptive methods of questioning, posit and counter posit to ascertain in as circumspect a way as possible the main thrust of his travels so far and his intended points of onward travel,

Exnihil’s interstellar transport docked at the main trading port of this sector and was quickly and efficiently disembarked by the loading droid’s and utilising my diplomatic immunity pass was soon through customs and free to travel. In accordance with standard operating procedure the first part of his visit was spent in additional decontamination processes. We were then able to visit a riverside tavern which provided sufficient cover to begin the more standard agent orientation process.

The evening was spent in my own quarters as it was felt this was a more secure environment for such a illustrious member of the LMBP. There is a particular section of the media to whom the movements of such people are part of the bread and circus mentality of the masses. Therefore the need to ensure that secrecy is maintained was considered to be imperative.

The next day, in accordance with protocol 27, we moved on to a forward operating base on the boarders of UP and barbarian space. I considered it an interesting experiment to detour and undertake an unannounced inspection of a sector defence battery. I was pleased to find the battery in full readiness and ready to defend this sector. The Guns seem well positioned and of a heavy enough calibre to bring down all but the largest warships from over the border. I am pleased to report that the LMBP, if Exnihil was a true reflection, have little interest in this part of the border.

A full and frank exchange of views, incorporating both aspects of UP policy, LMBP issues took place during the day at the secure home of Lord Tweedmouth. Although the noble lord is no friend of the LMBP he was gracious enough to leave us in private to discuss what needed to be discussed.

Perhaps of interest was a more general discussion centred on the fate of the missing Legion of Super Heroes, why they no longer seem to be active, and what if anything should be done to locate them in case of need

As per instructions, the flowing morning I took my leave of Exnihil in a small cove. The captain of the Scow has been well paid to ensure that his passenger was smuggled across the border into the barbarian lands. My messengers had already made contact with Lord Hrun who had promised to provide a Devastator class war ship to escort the Scow to its destination, so I had little fear for his safety.

It is my understanding that Exnihil has passed through the Marches safely and has gained little knowledge of UP preparations in this March, other than that which your Lordship’s desired.

I remain my Lords,

Your most obedient servant


Ambassador Coulthard.







TOP SECRET

TO M
Head of Service
Department S
Secret Intelligence Service

FROM Faraway Lad
Agent

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY – DESTROY AFTER READING


My Lady

I attach a top secret addendum to my recent report to the Lord High Commissioners on the recent trip to the Marches by the LMBP’er Exnihil.

Although your arrangement to with the LMBP is known to me, there are some developments that you may wish to be kept aware of.

It appears that two members who have not been seen in action for a while, namely Reboot and Pariscub are in fact active in the barbarian lands on the other side of the wall. I have asked my friend Lord Hrun to attempt to make contact or at the very least ensure they have backup at any time should they need it.

However of more concern if this bit of news. AS I said in my despatch to the Lord Commissioners, I sent word to Hrun seeking his help in protecting Exnihil on his journey through the borderlands as there had been a massive increase in Reiver activity over the last few months. The Reivers seem to have received a large increase in weapons and manpower. It is all the office of the Warden can do to hold back the attacks. They are becoming bolder and recently killed two Warder Constables in an attack on the station on Old Seemer.

A major concern lies in the fact that I sent four Wardens Messengers to find and relay my request to Lord Hrun. Only one returned, the rest were ambushed and killed. This is an alarming development as even in the darkest days of the Dark Circle wars, Wardens Messengers were given free and safe passage. I think this increase in raiding, and the worrying attacks on my men deserve a fuller investigation. Therefore I am proposing to resurec the old Faraway Lad Identity, thus ensuring you retain plausible deniability, and taking a little trip into the debatable lands to see if I can find out what is happening.

Mirrenna old friend, I hope you will understand why I feel I need to do this and will support my decision,

Your dearest friend
DC

Exnihil: I gotta tell you, Peebs... this whole "Boom Tube" thing is the only way to travel! This journey would have taken me weeks otherwise.

Power Boy: No worries, Ex. Any time.

Ex: Thanks, but... um... I have to ask you... what are you even doing in the Faraway Places? I thought you were one of the core LMB members permanently based on Legion World.

Peebs: Well, believe it or not, I actually am on Legion World.

Ex: Come again, now?

Peebs (laughs slightly): Ha... I don't think you know this about me, Ex, but... the blood that runs through these veins is that of Apokalips... and New Genesis... a mix, really... six of one, half dozen of the other.

Ex: I guess I kind of knew that... but I was never really sure what the deal was. You're one of those so-called, "New Gods," right?

Peebs: Yeah, well... that's sort of an old fashioned term but, in a nutshell... yeah. Anyway, because of my genetic make-up, every so often I have to enter into this type of hibernation - sort of a recharging period. In ancient times they used to call it the "Odinsleep".

Ex: Oooooooo-kay... so you're telling me you're actually sleeping on Legion World right now?

Peebs; My body is, but my mind... my essence... is free to wander the universe. That's why I can appear to you in the Faraway Places right now. Pretty cool, eh?

Ex: Huh. Fair enough, I suppose. Sooooo... I guess you won't be needing that drink, then. (reaches to take Peebs' drink.)

Peebs: You kidding me? Astral projection is thirsty work... give me that. (toasts) Skal!




Peebs (drinks): Ah! That hits the spot. Now... what's all this about heading into the Faraway Lands, anyway? You know it's a bit of a dangerous time right now, right? Are you looking for something?

Ex (sighs): I don't know... looking for answers, I suppose. I'm afraid it would take far too long to explain the whole thing but - basically - I'm involved in this case for Cobie, and... the deeper I go... the worse I'm feeling about it. I have this... I don't know... this sense of foreboding... like, somehow, the end of this case is the end of it all.

Peebs: "Deep blue above us fades to whiteness..."



Ex (startled at Power Boy's words): Wh... what did you just say?

Peebs: Oh... just an old story... the final words of the Promethean Giants.

Ex: The who?

Peebs: The Promethean Giants. My ancestors, I guess you could say. Long before the New Gods ever existed, there are tales of the Old Gods. They ruled for eons but, one day, convinced of their own infallibility... they went too far. They attempted to travel beyond the boundaries of their own celestial realm and penetrate into the very Source itself.

Ex: Wow... what happened?

Peebs: Hmph... nothing good, trust me. The Promethean Giants were punished for their hubris... turned to stone, and chained forever as part of the barrier that divides this world from the next.



Ex (thinking of the horrible dream he had earlier): Peebs... you... uh...

Peebs: Yeah?

Ex: You wouldn't happen to know if any of the "Old Gods" were... hybrids, would you?

Peebs: Hybri... huh? What do you mean?

Ex: You know... like half-humanoid... half-animal. Like maybe... half-cat?

Peebs (mulling it over): Hmmm...



Peebs: No... no, I'm sorry, Ex... nothing is coming to mind. But - then again - this isn't really my area of expertise. Like I say, a lot of this stuff is just old legends. Honestly... if you're serious about heading into the Faraway Lands looking for answers, you know as well as I do who the expert on ancient history is.

Ex: Already two steps ahead of you, brother. Where do you think I was heading after this?








Yes, fair reader, as anyone would have surmised by this point (especially given the above two communiqués which somehow arrived in advance of the events themselves... accursed wormholes! ) ... the course lay in the name of the place itself.


Join us, won't you, for..


New Gods...
Old Gods...
A tumbler full of rye...
247 blackbirds baked in a pie...


What?

Bleh... that is a fairly revolting image.

You know what, let's just forget that verse altogether, and continue on shortly with...






All the same nonsense... but double the w00t!

I thought twice about asking, knowing your attention to detail and thinking maybe this was just a reference I didn't get but... did you mean Target FOUR, instead of FORT?

Digging the continuing saga of the 100 toothpicks too!

[out of character]









She is calling from the future. They (will) go out for martinis on September 21st. The next day, September 22nd, she calls Ex in the past (four months prior).

One would assume - given that the next upcoming chapters are 34 and 35 - that, by the time September rolls around, the chapter numbers would be well into the Forties.


The smart money says that Karie was starting to say "forty"-something, but Ex interrupted her.



[/out of character]

Forty-eight.


Just saying