REPOST/LNH: Master Blaster & Twaeila #1

[Phantasm]

Pullemouttayerhat Productions
A Wholly-Owned Subsidiary of StarFall Innovations
(Parent Company of StarFall Comics)
Proudly Presents...

MASTER BLASTER AND FUTURE GIRL

"Gag me with a spork! I am NOT taking that dopey code name!"
*sounds of the Narrator strangling the female lead*
*AHEM* On we go.

MASTER BLASTER AND TWAEILA
#1: Days Past of Futures Present

Cover: Twaeila, wearing metallic-black armor, astride a stylish yet
futuristic (almost anime-ish) metallic-black motorcycle, hefting her
energy rifle. Master Blaster stands nearby, his own Really Big Gun of
1001 Settings at the ready.  They're seen through what appears to be
weapon sights.

  Twaeila Brock hadn't been seen much since her first appearance.
Sure, there was her brief appearance over in _Easily Discovered Man_,
at EDML's birthday party, but since then, the rest of the LNH hadn't
seen her.  They'd assumed she'd gone home to her home newsgroup,
alt.barney.dinosaur.die.die.die.
  But then, the LNH hadn't seen much of Master Blaster in the same
time period.  Coincidence?  Most of the LNH seemed to think so.
  "Coincidence?" Skunk Girl asked the Narrator. "In the LNH? Is that a
lame attempt at a joke?"
  Actually, Skunky, you're right.  It is not a coincidence.  Now, if
you'll let me get back to my narration....

  Where was I? Oh yes. There whereabouts of Master Blaster and Twaeila
Brock.  Most of the time, the two could be found in an impromptu
training session down in the 14th sub-basement.  Training... with live
ammunition.
  "Watch your left!" Master Blaster called over the headsets Twaeila
had scrounged up... somewhere.  "Uglies coming in."
  "I see them," Twaeila, an athletic, blond, fourteen year old girl,
replied coldly.   She swing around with her energy rifle, flipped a
switch, and squeezed the trigger.  The "uglies", large saurian-styled
robots, fell backwards with the impact of the rifle's plasma, and
through the wall.
  "Five more coming in above them," she whispered into her headset.
"Cover me."
  "Check."  Master Blaster opened fire with his Big Gun, as Twaeila
raced forward.  She leaped, catching the one robot in the neck with
her boot.  Or rather, with her boot's vibro-knife.  A quick slash with
the foot, and the robot toppled over, headless.  Two more robots fell
to Master Blaster's gunfire, as Twaeila produced a pair of laser
tripbombs, which she set on the floor and activated, running away from
them as she did so.
  "FIRE IN THE HOLE!"
  The explosion from the tripbombs rocked the sub-basement, causing
the floor under the robots to buckle, dropping them down a level.
  "Perimeter check?" Twaeila asked softly.
  "All clear."
  "Good."  She shouldered her rifle.  "You're getting better."
  "Kid, I've always been the best.  But you scare me sometimes.  How
did one so young learn how to fight like that?"
  "A lifetime of training," Twaeila sighed.  "Being born into an urban
guerrilla war will do that to you."
  "Tell me over pizza."
  "Don't you have a date again tonight?"
  "I'm free for a change.  You?"
  "Lite's been avoiding me.  Can't say I blame him, he's got enough on
his plate without adding in a teenage freedom fighter from an
alternate universe into the mix."
  "You're going to have to tell me more about that sometime."
  "Now's as good a time as any.  Narrator! Cue the flashback!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Manhattan Island
Late 23rd Century

  Renata tried to maintain her composure as she wandered down
Broadway. Not the easiest task in the world, she had to admit, but one
in which she was well practiced. She was forced to maintain a facade
of smiles and glazed-over eyes as she walked, seemingly joyous to see
the large, bloated, purple statues on every corner. Statues dedicated
to the Purple Messiah. In truth, the sight sickened her. She knew the
truth behind the Messiah. She knew Its lies.
  Entering a three-story brownstone, Renata took in a deep breath.
Away from the sights and sounds of the street, in the limited security
of her home, she could be herself.
  "Hi, Fran," she greeted the woman standing on the other side of the
room.
  "Hey, Ren," the older woman replied. "What's the rumor mill
saying?"
  "It's starting again," Ren replied. "Word is that the Beast has the
means to supply his past self with modern technology."
  "It took him almost fourteen years to get that time lab back up and
running," Fran muttered. "Let's see if we can't set him back another
fourteen years, eh?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Empire State Building
Manhattan Island
Late 23rd Century

  It was evening as Fran, Ren, and a few others climbed the central
staircase of the Empire State Building, dressed in gaudy purple and
green uniforms with the word "Maint" stenciled on the backs.
  "How much further?" one of the men asked when they reached the
thirty-seventh floor.
  "This is the floor," Fran stated. "It's just down the hallway. At
least, that's where it is if the map we stole from that Sponge
Security officer is correct."
  Running down the hallway, the group skidded to a halt outside a door
that read "TIME RESEARCH LAB! KEEP OUT!".
  "This must be the place."
  Fran gave the knob an experimental twist. The group was surprised to
see the door open easily.
  "Stupid, moronic, pea-brained, spongified idiots..." Ren muttered.
"You don't leave the door to a top-secret area unlocked!"
  Filing into the room, the group spread out. One of the men opened a
filing cabinet, while Fran, Renata, and a young girl slipped into an
adjacent room. Still another man sat down at a computer terminal, and
started typing away.
  "Trash the records, destroy the hardware, and plant a virus in the
system," the man muttered. "The things we go through to save the world
boggles me sometimes."
  "Don't get too comfortable there, my super-dee-dooper Special
Friend!" a dopey, syrupy, yet menacingly evil voice called out from
the door. "After all, we still have to play pretend before we eat our
Healthy Snacks, hyuck, hyuck, hyuck!"
  "Oh, s#!t!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  "After that," Twaeila stated, grabbing another slice of Hawaiian at
Guido's Pizza Pit, "the Beast's forces tore our Underground cell to
shreds.  Mom lived long enough to fit me into a time harness and send
me to my Dad's time.  He was in a war with the Beast's younger
counterpart, so being with him was a lot like being with Mom, only a
lot better equipped. Thing is, when I came over here for a 'vacation'
during that Melissa fiasco, I somehow got split into two.  The me that
stayed in the other universe died.  Because I no longer exist there, I
can't go home, either way.  I'm stuck here."
  "But don't get me wrong," she told her eating partner.  "I am not a
'net.hero'!  I'm not in this for fighting crime.  I am thankful for
the LNH taking me in, but..."
  "You miss your mother," Master Blaster replied softly.
  "More than that... I don't belong here.  I'm a fish out of water.
I'm a freedom fighter, not a hero.  I've killed in the past... my
first kill was at age eight -- a Minion who'd found me not smiling.
Imagine that... not smiling is a crime where I'm from!  If you're not
stupidly happy, you're an enemy of the state!"  She put her pizza
down.  "That sounds even more ridiculous than this whole hero-villain
thing going on in this universe."
  "Only on the surface," Master Blaster stated.  "In a way, they're a
lot alike."
  "One thing, though.  You're always so gruff and gung-ho, and hitting
on every 'of-age' female LNHer.  Why are you different around me?"
  "Kid, I look at you, and I see the kid sister I never had.  One's
who's bound to make the same mistakes I've made, and, well..."
  "I don't need protection, bub."
  "I don't have to protect you, kid.  You've proven you can do that on
your own.  I'm talking guidance."
  "What, so I can be a boorish womanizer as well?"
  Master Blaster visibly winced at that. "No, I meant the mistakes I
made when I was just starting out.  I accidentally hurt people, pushed
away old friends.  Guess with you, I'm just trying to right some of my
past wrongs."
  "Well, don't.  You're a great sparring partner, but I don't need a
babysitter!"
  So engrossed were Master Blaster and Twaeila in their conversation
that they failed to notice the brown-suited men wearing sunglasses
approaching them until they sat down.
  "Mister Ramierez? Miss Brock?"
  "What?" Twaeila shot back, finally noticing them.
  "Pardon our intrusion," the first man stated.  "We represent the
Internewsgroup Immigration Service.  Miss Brock, we have a warrant for
your arrest and deportation as an illegal alien."
  "Now, we can do this one of two ways," the other one stated.  "You
can either come with us quietly to the station, or we can do it the
net.hero style.  Only I don't think the LNH will appreciate their
favorite pizza hangout getting demolished.  Your choice."
  At this time, as Guido came along to deliver the pizza to a nearby
table of net.heroes, he spotted the two men.
  "Hey! We don't serve your kind here!  Get out, filthy MiBs!"  Guido
then proceeded to pick the two men up by the backs of their brown suit
jackets, one in each hand, and physically toss them out the door onto
the street.
  "Lousy no good undercover superspy agents," Guido mumbled, his
Itali.net accent thickening.  "They've been a pain in my rear since
their Agency tried to use my place to spy on the LNH."
  Master Blaster and Twaeila shrugged, and turned back to their pizza.

  An explosion in the hallways of the LNHQ wasn't an unheard-of
event.  Characters in the middle of their plots or subplots tended to
have their domiciles explode on them.  Most of the LNH tended to
ignore these explosions, although granted a few of the sidelined
characters tended to hang around them on the off-chance that they'd be
picked up and brought into the plot.
  So, when yet another dorm room exploded into the hallway and out the
side wall of the LNHQ, very few LNHers paid attention.  Fred, the
receptionist on duty at the time, got the call of the explosion,
checked to see whose room it was, and automatically alerted the
appropriate LNHers.
  In this case, it was Twaeila's guest room that had the unfortunate
case of explosiveness.  Fred checked the plotline roster, saw that
Master Blaster was involved in a newly-started plot with Twaeila, and
contacted him.  He also contacted Ultimate Ninja, as it was the right
of the LNH's leader to answer these calls as he saw fit, and then
finally contacted Captain Cleanup in order to clean the mess once the
room was no longer needed for the plot.
  As it turned out Master Blaster didn't have to be alerted.  He,
along with Twaeila, was at Ground Zero when the room exploded.  They'd
just entered the door when the bed itself exploded.
  Twaeila was thrown out into the hallway, while the force of the
explosion and Twaeila running into him had Master Blaster falling
through the opposite wall... into New Look Lass's bedroom as she was
changing costumes.
  "PERVERT!"
  Shifting focus a minute....
  Twaeila picked herself up off the hallway floor, and brushed herself
off.  "Now *that* is more like it!  The direct approach didn't work,
so they're trying to kill me."
  "I take it you know who did this?" Ultimate Ninja asked, appearing
in the hallway.
  "I have an idea.  See, exploding beds are standard operating
procedure for a number of my home time period's resistance cells."
  "Uh-huh."
  "Yeah, and the Internewsgroup Immigration Service paid me a visit in
Guido's earlier today, and threatened to do things the 'net.hero'
method if I didn't come quietly.  This is their declaration of war."
  "Back up.  The Internewsgroup Immigration Service?  There's no such
agency."
  "Then who were those Men in Brown that approached me and Rob there?"
  "Men in Brown?"  Twaeila could tell the Ninja was wincing under his
full-face mask.  "They represent certain factions in the Loonited
States government, without actually falling under anyone's
jurisdiction.  They do as they please.  If they have it in for
you...."
  "Then I might as well take the fight to them.  Thanks for the
hospitality, UN, its been real.  But I gotta see what they want with
me.  Ciao."
  She stuck her head into New Look Lass's room.  "Yo!  Robert!  I got
a lead on those Men-in-Brown!  You in?"
  "One minute!  New Look Lass says she has something for you!"
  "Not another attempt at a costume!  I told her, I'm not a net.hero!"
  "You'll like this one!" New Look Lass replied.  "Fashionable *and*
functional."
  Twaeila shook her head, sighing, then waited until Master Blaster
staggered out the door.  He handed her a small cardboard box, which
Twaeila felt compelled to open.
  Inside was a spandex outfit, colored grey, with a red "FL" in small
letters on the left breast.  Twaeila closed the box, and sighed.
"What's the 'FL' for?"
  "She says you should call yourself 'Future Lass'."
  "Fsck her... not now, Rob!  We've got Men-in-Brown to hunt."

  Fifteen minutes later, Twaeila and Master Blaster ended up in the
LNHQ's parking lot.  Getting Twaeila's custom motorcycle out of
Parking Karma Kid's domain was a lot easier than getting Master
Blaster's Hog out.  Eventually, however, they managed it.
  "So, how are we going to find these Men-in-Brown, anyways?" Master
Blaster asked.
  "Rule number five of urban guerrilla warfare," Twaeila replied.
"When plotting an ambush, leave plenty of bait.  Sooner or later,
they'll come out to catch us.  I'm the one they're interested in, so
keep me in sight at all times."
  With that, Twaeila peeled out onto the city streets, Master Blaster
close behind.

NEXT: More Guns! More explosions! More Men-in-Brown! Twaeila tries on
her new costume!  And a visit from the Purple Messiah?