Five Earths, All in a Row

[Fionn The Otaku]

On Dp-Earth I can see the allies slow walking the war (relatively speaking) partly for domestic political reasons (give the Nazi's time to prove them selves monsters to justify the war as well as the war time powers granted leaders and for the socio-economic benefits America reaped from the war), Stalin will likely be especially cautious considering what the war cost the Soviet union and the fact that WWII was quickly followed by the cold war which his side lost.
Also I can easily see secondary nations on Inp-Earth helping the Nazi's in order to give there counter parts on Dp-Earth time to gain ground on that worlds major players or weaken the Colonial powers, including (strangely) Israel since it was the holocaust that made mostly ended anti-Semitism and lead to the creation of Israel.

[Prince Charon]

Alright, let's try this, again.

Originally Posted by tshiggins

Okay, I found references to the Ice Warriors and the Mysterons, but what are the "Changing Martians"? Are those the Khaldanes and Rykors from Burroughs?

No. I guess that was a pretty obscure way of referring to them, but the comics just call them Martians, and having the Space Babes refer to them as 'DC Martians' wouldn't work, so I got into the habit of using a descriptive term. They're not a perfect match for any one version, but the various colours are mostly like political and philosophical affiliations. They aren't as good at shapeshifting as their comic or cartoon counterparts, either. The ones who are would be manifested spirits, and not necessarily from Mars.

[tshiggins]

Originally Posted by Prince Charon

Alright, let's try this, again.



No. I guess that was a pretty obscure way of referring to them, but the comics just call them Martians, and having the Space Babes refer to them as 'DC Martians' wouldn't work, so I got into the habit of using a descriptive term. They're not a perfect match for any one version, but the various colours are mostly like political and philosophical affiliations. They aren't as good at shapeshifting as their comic or cartoon counterparts, either. The ones who are would be manifested spirits, and not necessarily from Mars.

Ah, okay. They're the people of the Martian Manhunter.

[Prince Charon]

Originally Posted by tshiggins

Ah, okay. They're the people of the Martian Manhunter.

Yes, exactly.

For those of you out there who are vexillologists, here's why I don't consider myself much of a vexillographer:

http://i.imgur.com/xS7rgTG.png

The orange was added after the Netherlands joined (and they're a bit reluctant to have more new members, as they'll start running out of colours, eventually). I'm pretty sure the real flag would be more even, and maybe the yellow cross in the centre would be thinner.

The Scandinavian Federation could possibly be likened to a smaller, more close-knit EU, if you squint a bit, though what Americans would call the Executive Branch is clearly different.

The Executive Council consists of the monarchs of the member nations, with only a vote by all other members, or a three fourths majority of the Federation Parliament, being able to override the veto of any single member. In war or other emergencies, the Council may elect a 'Cincinnatus', either from among their number, or a respected non-member, who will have full executive power for the duration, save for parallel reviews every three months by the Executive Council and the Parliament (to insure that he acts like a Cincinnatus, and not a Caesar), either of which may end the Cincinnatus's term in office.

[tshiggins]

Another vignette.

************************************************** *****

In all the years of his “existence” (he couldn’t really call it “life,” any more – not honestly), the night sky hadn’t changed all that much. The stars wheeled slowly around Polaris and told him of the approach of dawn, just as they had for more than 200 years. They timed his steps as he strolled toward the tiny, dilapidated Brooklyn flat (no – Americans called it an “apartment”…) that had been his ne… home, for a couple of years.

Now, however, the presence of four new “earths” (at least, that’s what the Times had said) changed the night sky dramatically. The radio news guys (a good invention, that…) spoke of possibilities and probabilities and dramatic changes. The editorial pages did the same. The new celestial objects, combined with the wars in Europe and Asia that threatened to merge into a global conflagration, seemed to point to a world on the verge of profound change.

He just couldn’t bring himself to care.

The crossword puzzle in the Times folded under his left arm helped him while away at least an hour of sunlight thinking about – something else. The pigs blood in the sack in his left hand continued his pointless existence for another week, but never really took away the aching hunger.

He couldn’t think about that. Not ever. (But how could he not?)

Sometimes he wondered if he shouldn’t just step out into the day, and make an end. Somehow, he could never bring himself to do it; the last remnants of his Catholic upbringing, perhaps? Would that constitute yet another cosmic jest, at his expense? Is that why he took such care, to live so quietly? Is that why he still exercised such precautions, learned through decade after decade of horror (No! Can’t think about that!), when such precautions were so very necessary?

Speaking of precautions….

“Hey, Mr. Galway. Yer up early, today.”

“I’m an early riser, Willy. You know that. You usually aren’t, though.”

“No sir. No, I ain’t. In fact, I ain’t up early, I’m up late, if you understand me. I seen you leave your place, yestiday evenin’. Just seein’ you come back, now, and ain’t that peculiar?”

Pause.

“What kept you up so late, Willy?”

“Well, sir. About an hour after I seen you left, I seen a half-a-dozen big fellas I ain’t seen before, go into your place. Ain’t come out again, neither. I remember you told me you might have visitors from your rum-running days, and you’d like it if I kept an eye out for ‘em.”

Prohibition had been half laughable, and half offensive down to his Irish so… (No! Don’t think about that!). It had paid awfully well, though. He still lived on the proceeds.

Most of his rum-rummer associates were either dead, in prison, or gone straight, but it made for a good story to tell... precautions such as Willy. One of the five-dollar bills from the '20s wound up in Willy’s pocket, and the old derelict (wonder if he’d been a customer…?) wandered off to get some breakfast.

The pigs blood sluggishly woke his senses, and he smelled the oily-metal tang of firearms (and my, hadn’t those changed…) from outside the building. Up the fire escape of the apartment building across the alley, leap across to the roof of his own, and the bullet from the roof door takes him high in the chest.

Shock. Pain. Rage. Amateur. Thug. Murder for hire. Fresh blood and senses blazing. Pain reduced to a dull ache, rapidly fading. Hunger rising. (Horror! Oh, horror…)

Dark hallway, bright as day to his eyes. Two more guns, snapping arms. Blood. (So hungry…). Who sent you?

The wall explodes as the demon comes through. Crushing grip on his left arm. Silvered blade in his right, blurring through the scales like butter. Howls of rage and pain, choked off when the blade blurs through its throat. You learn a few things, when you’ve lived so long.

Including this. Chanting. Magics. Time to go now, boyo. Who the hell is Wolfram and Heart?

Dark room. Window crashing. Landing on the street, in the early light of dawn…

************************************************** **

Her scream woke him. Again. He could barely see her, a pale form in the wan light of the late Warsaw winter afternoon, which managed to creep in around the blackout curtains.

“What’s wrong, pet?”

“Oh, Spikey. I had another one, so sad it made me weep in my dreams, it did.”

“About him? I’m so bloody tired of you dreaming about him.”

“Oh, no. Not him. Her.”

“Her? Her who? You’re not making sense, pet.”

“The Slayer. The blonde one.”

“A blonde slayer? You’re dreaming about a blonde slayer? Where? I can nip off and kill her for you, if it would let you sleep.”

“Oh, no. Not a slayer. The Slayer. You won’t kill her, for me. You’ll leave me for her, and her brightness will burn away all your lovely darkness.”

************************************************** *****

She woke with a gasp and bolted upright in sweat-soaked satin sheets. She hadn’t woken him, this time, so she slipped out of bed, checked on the babies (sleeping peacefully), and made her way to the bathroom.

The cool water on her face told her what was real. The haunted eyes in the mirror told her that was a lie.

Why would she have these dreams? The role ended years ago, and even in the middle of it, she didn’t dream like this. Not about a Dave who wasn’t a Dave, even when the characters had brought them… close.

She made her way back to the bed, and slipped underneath the damp-cooled sheets.

“Hey. You dreaming, again?”

Dammit. She did wake him.

“Yeah. The same things. I think I need to see somebody. Maybe we should go to the do-jang, later, too. That seems to help.”

Pause.

“I’ll call Lindsay, and ask her to keep an eye on the kids, for us. The thing is…”

“What?”

“The thing is, about the do-jang…. You almost hurt somebody, last time.”

“The dreams, they’re throwing me. I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

“It’s not just the dreams. You’re 36, and the training and the show kinda beat you up, through the years. I talked to the gyo-san-nim, last time, and he said you should be slowing down, about now, and making up for age with technique.”

“You talked to him, about this?”

“I had to, after last time.”

“What… what did he say?”

“He said your technique is great. It’s better than ever.”

“Okay….”

“He also said you’re not slowing down, Sarah. You’re faster than he’s ever seen you and, maybe, stronger.”

Freddie took a deep breath. Ran his fingers through his hair.

“It’s scaring me, a little.”

[Prince Charon]

Interesting. Mind you, given what happened in Sunnydale (unless this is before that point) things have been quite thrown off, but SMG gaining Slayer-like powers is very much plausible, in-setting. Do you want to post it to SB.com, or is it not ready, yet?

[tshiggins]

Originally Posted by Prince Charon

Interesting. Mind you, given what happened in Sunnydale (unless this is before that point) things have been quite thrown off, but SMG gaining Slayer-like powers is very much plausible, in-setting. Do you want to post it to SB.com, or is it not ready, yet?

I'll post it, over there.

I sorta riffed on the idea you had, about Sir Ian McKellan and Sir Christopher Lee gaining powers based on characters with whom they'd become identified. While you didn't go into it, much, the fact that both actors work as consultants for UNIT sort of indicates they found the acquisition of those abilities at least somewhat attractive (if still a bit disturbing).

So, what happens if someone gains abilities and he (or she, in this case) finds them undesirably problematic?

BtVS went beyond mere "popularity" and became something of a cultural phenomenon throughout Western societies, not just the United States. After all, not many TV shows have sociology courses devoted to the impact they had on the popular culture, and the perception of the changing roles of women in the modern world.

I also think SMG has (to some extent) been typecast and struggles to move beyond the role, so she can do different things. She's also (apparently) happily married and has two small children.

The speed, strength, toughness and healing power of a slayer -- especially The Slayer, the finest one who ever lived (three times) -- might be nice. But the dreams? The calling to use those abilities that skews every choice? Not so much.

Also, if SMG acquires the abilities, does she (in effect) become Chosen? At that point, there are two slayers in existence -- albeit on different worlds, in different actual dimensions (although visible to one another).

Does that trigger the imbalance, early, and allow for the rise of the First? Or does SMG simply start a new line of slayers, on Inp-Earth? Or both? After all, you know that if teenage geeks are acquiring Sith powers, some perky little goth-girl will soon start to drink blood....

[dcarson]

I'm just trying to imagine how powerful Sean Connery will get.

[Prince Charon]

Originally Posted by tshiggins

Also, if SMG acquires the abilities, does she (in effect) become Chosen? At that point, there are two slayers in existence -- albeit on different worlds, in different actual dimensions (although visible to one another).

Does that trigger the imbalance, early, and allow for the rise of the First? Or does SMG simply start a new line of slayers, on Inp-Earth? Or both? After all, you know that if teenage geeks are acquiring Sith powers, some perky little goth-girl will soon start to drink blood....

There's no imbalance, because the Slayers and Slayeroids of Earth One are generally different beings (as well as being from a different dimension) than the line on Earth Two. SMG does read as 'The Slayer' to those Earth Two sensitives who can detect it, but she still feels different, because her power source is the pressure of fandom, not an ancient curse.

Also, a clarification: Earth Two has multiple types of vampire, some more monstrous than others. None of them sparkle in the sunlight, though some do catch fire.

Originally Posted by dcarson

I'm just trying to imagine how powerful Sean Connery will get.

Ah, interesting question. Difficult to say. Always in motion is the future. ;)

[tshiggins]

Originally Posted by dcarson

I'm just trying to imagine how powerful Sean Connery will get.

I just want to know who he goes to work for? Her Majesty's Secret Service, or the movement for Scottish Independence? :)