http://integr8dfix.blogspot.com/2009/11/calinferno.html#links">Integr8d%20Fictions:%20Calinferno!
Happy Holidays.

http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/2009/11/calinferno.html with illos


continues in http://www.imwan.com/phpBB3/viewtopic.php?f=29&t=64490 "Spell of the Wolf!"

concludes in http://www.imwan.com/phpBB3/viewtopic.php?f=29&t=69590&p=1845003#p1845003
"Free of the Fallen World!"

. I was inspired by my memories of a single comic bought for me from a salvage store one Christmas. I even re-colored Patsy Walker's horrible pajamas to better say "Hell Cat"!


An excerpt? A character driven bit.

Hostess: The dishwasher’s coming out now; here you go...it’ll be juuust a minute...
Val: That busser is terribly familiar...
Hostess: David just started here two weeks ago...kinda gentle, contained dude.
Val walks back over to Hilly and Patsy, as she gives him an auntie type hug at the bar.
Val: Pardon me...Patsy, do you recognize the fellow clearing our table for us?
Patsy: Waitaminute...’scuse me, Hill, this guy looks just like a dear bud of ours...
Val: you seem to have caught the attention of this fellow approaching by mistake...
The gentleman in question, about Patsy’s height, with Indian features and contemporary clothing and aura, walks up to shake the hand of Patsy walker.
“Ah, hello, you might be a friend of a friend I’m looking for...”
“Oh! Oh, yeah, hey man! “ she replies, quickly giving him a full on embrace. “Uh, you’re Bali, from around the corner, Kyle’s friend?”
“Yeah!” he replies, shaking his head vigorously with surprised, benevolently bugging eyes.
“That’s Val and Hillie, my friends,” she says, pointing. “Sorry, I’m trying to get a look at this fellow here before he ducks back into the kitchen! Be right with ya, good to meet ya, ho-ho-hold on!”
Bali turns towards Hillie and Val, unable to suppress a glee that escapes as a private giggle---a six foot tall Valkyrie woman..." he thinks.
Suddenly, a voice booms drunkenly out of the booth next to the busy busser:
“A toast! A toast, then, to the children who cannot smile today. Never forget’em. I want them to LIVE through me...I wanna remember them. I want ER’y One to remember ‘em...!”

Startled, Hellcat turns in the same direction as the glances of the entire section of the dining room.

From the booth, a distraught, angry, sad young man has bellowed his toast, while across the table from him, a sturdy hand comes across to touch his arms. His companion, with steely eyes and a friendly smile, turns quickly to Patsy, in whom he sees sympathy. “Well, we two must have the reddest hair in this whole place, do we not?!?” he offers cheerfully, in an Oklahoma accent.
Patsy plays off his nonchalance, while the brooding fellow takes a deep sigh. “That we do, that we do! So how are you doing there, Oakie?”
“Oh! My accent’s telling on me!” he laughs. “Where I’m from? They would say I don’t have one!”
“You do out here, my fellow carrot TOP!”
“We have a big space here if you and your friends would care to share?” Oakie says. By now, Hillie’s watching Val move up behind Patsy, as Bali’s eyes follow Val wistfully with intimations of Love at First Sight.
The busser breathes in a cleansing fashion, as he lifts the tub full of used dinner ware to his chest, then cocks his hat back and swiftly heads back towards the kitchen entrance beside the bar back door. But he shoots a smile back towards Patsy Walker, who recognizes her friend Doctor Banner, relieved by the return to early evening din and classic rock.
“Hillie, would you put some Jack Johnson or something on the juke box? It’s for a friend of mine,” Patsy says, as she passes a dollar to her friend. “We’ve got a pretty big party, Oakie, with more to come...but you Are hogging one of the bigger booths, you know...”
“Oh, I DO know!” says the Oakie. “Room for everyone, ain’t that right, Teddy Bear?”
“Sure,” he replies quietly, calmed now by the energy supporting him.
And so, we leave Bali sliding in across from Val so he can watch her talk, as she sits beside Teddy and Patsy pulls up a chair for herself to sit on the end and leave the booth open for Hillie to sit down next to Oakie...to fly as the crow flies, into the woods just out of reach of the revels of the Castles Made of Sand Bar...
Emma Johansson, surrounded by a glow, now sports a distinctly 20’s hat with flat feather-type triangles of fabric poised in green above her dark bob hair cut, as she gathers the edges of her faded orange trench coat to step barefoot across a patch of dried grass beside a breeze blown hickory sapling.
I reach out with my perceptions, and make my walk my meditation...I put aside my feelings---how can one love a spirit? No, how does one Fall in such love? His feelings, his heart’s stirrings---they are the empathic thread that pulls at me, weaving me deeper into the woods before the sun prepares its setting...
She touches her brow.
Such an array of impressions from nature...but in the middle is this anomaly...
Emma cups her hands to her mouth like a megaphone.
“Oh, Ann-Omm-aLeeeee! Come out, come out, wherever you...are!”
Emma looks pleased with herself.
“Hah! If only it’s that simple...”
So she continues stepping over a branch stealthily and weaving beneath a mimosa bloom along a dirt path into the darkening twilight...
...unaware that there is ONE who has answered her call, after all...
“You...want’ed meee? “
Foreshadowed, forlorn, is a sad-eyed, yellowish-green humanoid cross between a goblin and a gnome, with some form of human clothing---coveralls---standing over a yard. There is a smile, though.
“Some one...or some thing...wanted ....me.”

[color=#BF0000]An aside: is it better to post the whole thing here? That is what I'm going to do. I've fixed the links.

A man and woman are seated, eyes closed, hands clapsed, in the middle of the woods. The man is dressed as though in silks and a cloak and hide boots that seem to suggest he is a Viking; the woman is dressed in a smart variation on the flapper skirt with a playful yellow and orchid pattern, and bangles, suggesting the Roaring Twenties. There is a supernal darkness that seems to imbue every living thing with an eerie luminescence, as the Viking snaps his eyes open and says, “I could hear her...she senses me, but she sees me not...”



His face is filled with a mournful sadness, but the grief washes away before Emma Johansson’s eyes, as he looks earnestly into them. “She senses this world is where the peril of Slay Box has fallen. She believes, if we could only locate her brother...did you see?”
“I believe I can sense who we are looking for,” she replies. “The energies of the spell, similar to those of you, its one survivor...”
“And I, but a shade at that! Your mercy provides me my one hope, that we see this banishing through...” He reaches out to brush her cheek. “I do not know why you have been called to summon me to consciousness, Emma Johansson. All I can promise you is a glimpse at madness, and magical dangers that provide such dangers as my thousand year leap from one side of time’s channel, to another!”
“It doesn’t matter if I understand,” she replies. “All I can do is promise to help you find your partner...and pray that together you can summon the power to subvert this otherly intelligence that precedes you from the Dark Ages.”
“And pray, also,” she thinks, “ I do not foolishly lose my heart by your side, for you love another...”

Deep in the woods, outside San Diego County, California:
A National Guard soldier and a Canadian Royal Mountie are situated around a fallen tree. As night descends, the Mountie has switched on his flash light.
M: And now, to liven up our mixed unit guest wild fire patrol for the golden state of California---
Pvt. Holt: Beats sitting in my tank, tho...
Mountie Dave raises his voice and places his hand beside its glow, to effect a primitive puppet.
performing live for American and Canadian audiences...Joyous!
Holt: You sound like Mickey Mouse, dude! Okay, I’m game. What...eees...the strategy! For the Hobgoblin volley ball team, in the second half?
“Joyous”: well, they really need to bomb them in the back court!
Holt: What! Eeees...the plan to use gliding?
“Joyous”: Here is Hobgoblins Captain: we are going to see sparks fly! The gliders are our best defense against their spikes! We’ll have them climbing the walls!” Thank you, Hobgoblin Captain!
Holt: Joyous, What! eees .....(dismayed) what the---focus THAT?!?

The Trome(a misshapen being, not a meter tall, with massive hands, approaches on hairy feet and spiked bracelets, its inhuman face obscured by a miner’s helmet-style flashlight on his head): Hob? Narr? Sniffer? Anomaly? You Gnomlins need to get back to the ...Hutch...! (voice trails off, subdued by sight of humans)
Pvt. Holt: Dave, it’s...it’s a gnome...
Mountie Dave Blancley: Or a troll...
Both: It’s a Trome...
Pvt. Holt: And it’s running away...
Mountie Blancley: That’s okay with you, Sgt. Holt?
Pvt. Holt: Okay by me, Mountie Blancley. What if it starts a fire?
Mountie Blancley: Sure, then you report it---here.
*yes, he calls him Sargent, like Sgt. Rock, it’s their joke---don’t bother me. Editor
Holt: Let’s just be cool, finish up the patrol...
Blancley: How do you go about calling this in?
From the dusk, two orbs, red-laced with yellow, glow fiercely from the countenance of a human face, resolved by its inner light. The machine man steps forward...
Machine Man: I’m not trying to be a smart ass...
The soldier and the Mountie look stupified.
Machine Man: But have you seen anything weird come this way?
Listen...if you want to open fire, when it comes to soldiers and me, that’s about par for the course.
Holt: ...depends...is it necessary?
Machine Man: Huh! Not for me.
Blancley: Oh. Then we’re good.
Holt: I do reserve the right, though...if that’s cool. And I do have a tank.
Machine Man: Look, there is an escalating upsurge in energy levels about 475 yards north, as well as minor seismic activity, for which you may need the National Guard, the Mounties, the Geological Society, and maybe every Marine at Camp Pendleton. But I’m going to check it out and hopefully there will be nothing but souvenirs when your brass gets there. Say...what is a Mountie doing in the California woods with a National Guardsman?
Holt: Being grilled by a really nosy robot? Did I say that out loud?
Machine Man: Ah...fire rescue & recovery project--- online feed. Well, if you were killing boredom, I sincerely hope you will have lots more; I don’t know WHAT these guys are or what they are up to...and I sense you are about as reluctant to get involved as I WANT to be...I am sending a distress signal to bring the rest of the local constabulary to the perimeter...and I hope the rest of my dealings with the military will be as courteous as these, gentlemen.
Blancley: Okay. Now, you know when we say we were grilled by a really nosy robot, all bets are off.
Machine Man: Well...”just remember only You can prevent forest fires.”




and for action:
Ahead in the encroaching starlight, at the Hutch, Machine Man settles into the brush, where with telescoping eyes he observes...
Machine Man( thinks) : Is this some kind of ball game? They’ve been building something in this location that, from my energy readings, probably hasn’t been cleared with the zoning commission, to say the least...
They’re using what I guess is their building tools to improvise a game! They’re not completely stupid...maybe grotesque by human standards. But who am I to assess? Better slip into their little shanty garage and have a peak...If anything, I’m glad tracking these creatures has taken my mind off---I won’t even think her name---why do I think I can talk to human women online and ease them into the idea that they are chatting with a robot? Where is the window to That discussion? “Do u have webcam?” they ask. “Oh, I have one built inside me! I can probably come over and fix your drivers, girl, by having a nice cup of tea with your hardware!” Anonymous contact for fun, what could go wrong?
Blast! I’ve gotten too good at this human-style self-absorption! There’s something volatile brewing here, even if I haven’t figured out its purpose...and here comes the crew...
A voice booms from within the recesses of the Hutch...
Gnomlins! The time has come for the finishing touches! Why do you delay?
Narr, a jackass-looking Gnome/Goblin person of yellowish complexion tinged with green: Hoopty-blarp! It’s gonna blow when it’s done building up, there’s little else we can do, Nyirogongo!


The voice: More coal to the steam portion of the chamber, Hob! The cosmic radiation filter needs polishing, too! Inexcusable! Where’s Sniffer?
Sniffer is a serpentine, lithe yellow creature smaller than Hob.
Behind him, Gnoll the Trome opens the back of a large exo-skeleton/ construction device.
Sniffer: I was just about to climb into the vent and see if that delicious sulfurous oxide has reached critical! But there seems to be a robot clogging it a bit.
Gnoll the Trome (in armor that makes him bigger than a person: steam-release valve on the shoulder, flaming furnace in the chest, a great waldo clamp hand on the right and something akin to a tig welder on the left arm): I didn’t lose any robots!!!
Nyirogongo(booming voice, from inside other room): That! Is the department of that...Anomaly!
Sniffer: Probably off making contact with the humans! Remember the “yard sale”?
Narr: You know, I am afraid this is going to blow sky-high...but I can’t wait for it to blow up! But I’m afraid!

Sniffer: Such a conflict happens to creatures of mixed nature, I imagine. It happens to gases, too!
Gnoll(in clunky armor, employing the grip of his helpful waldo): I’ve got it.
Machine Man: So what are doing with it? Maybe I could simply join in? How do I apply?
Gnoll: I’m not sure I understand, but can we please first take you apart?
Sniffer: Does he explode? He doesn’t smell like anything I know.
Narr: What if he explodes? Yay!
Sniffer: Careful! He might explode!

Narr: Oh, Nooo! Well, here’s the welder...
Machine Man: What is this place for? Quit attacking me, why don’t you?
Sniffer: Well, the point of it is to quit working and explode!

Gnoll (rolling forward on tread; a furnace belches smoke from the chest cavity): He’s got a flame, too! Hot enough to melt my armor!
Narr: How does he move? I wanna get under the Hood of this baby!!!
(Narr uses his arc welder on Machine Man’s head to little affect except to damage his face)
Machine Man( shrugging off Gnomlins, extending his hand towards the control panel on a tube telescoping from his wrist) : That does it! If this whole place is nothing but an elaborate bomb...!
Narr: He’s gonna explode!
Sniffer: Yay! I mean, NOOO!! It’s all going to explode any minute!
(The battle crashes noisily through to a previously concealed chamber, where the last gnomlin, their foreman, sits high atop a stool over looking all, before a type of patched-together megaphone.)
Nyirogongo (the tiniest Gnomlin, lizard-like, has lifted off his heels screaming):


I!! AM! ! GOING TO...EXPLODE!!! Blrbbllrrrb!
Narr: Anomaly! What are you doing with humans, you witzbold Gnomlin?
Hellcat and Valkyrie come in to the sight of Machine Man being smashed through the floor by Gnoll the Trome in his armor, which is being outfitted on the left arm with a cannon, of the field artillery type, cobbled together by the Gnomlins.
Hellcat: Cheese and crackers...is that the Machine Man that fought in Times Square? Val!
Trome quickly opens fire close to point blank on the Valkyrie, catching her square in the chest.
Gnoll: So! They laugh about the Trome, the only one of his kind! No Champion, no Philosopher---no couple to birth his race! And snigger when they whisper of how Gnoll came to be! But I shall be my own Champion! My own Philos—
Valkyrie stands up, looking very perturbed,


Creature...

and hacks into the joint of his cannon and arm with Dragonfang, her sword, using a double handed over head cut.

...I will not abide the crisis of your existence at the harm of my own!

The sequel's up on the link below! It's so fun. I don't hear much from my boredom-fighting friends here, but the hundreds of hits on these stories makes me feel like it's reaching somebody and keeps me going strong! I hope some of it is provocative enough to stay with you...and if it challenges you to say, "huh! I can do at least THAT well!!" then I've played my bit!

http://ceaseill.blogspot.com/2010/02/ex ... remus.html has the rest of this Defenders romp and all links!