SangHellE56

@queen_marceline: Lol yeah, I thought so. Hopefully there's some new character who can really match Jiren. Did he actually beat Goku?

Ohhhh...my God. So to speak, if you've been catching up with Super lately.

So, I've heard about all the hype over Jiren, the X Files-ish alien from Team Universe 11. From what I understand, he's - for sake of not having a better way to term it - a complete mf'ing beast. Rumor has it he can beat Goku, and he might become a god. Not sure why he'd have to be one like Beerus, but regardless this is awesome.

Now, who can imagine how he'd do against Pikkon? Would it even be considered a fight? I'm sure Pikkon can achieve Tournament of Power-level strength somehow. Which brings us to the scenario:

Scenario: Jiren won the Tournament, but Goku used the Dragon Balls to revive his old frenemy. Pikkon arrives, and after training for a while the battle takes place on a remote planet elsewhere.

Who wins? This is either the most epic or pointless Vine Battle I've ever proposed......

He's been featured more often in the comics. But would a movie more likely imply the stereotype that he's a rip-off of Batman? If there is gonna be a movie, who should be the villain? BTW I don't like how Marvel's made him lately. Too James Bond-ish.

Never done comics of fan characters, but my Green Lanterns might fit the bill if I stick with it.

I might do a fan-fic on here of her later on. Critiques are welcome. :)

The Misfit Mystics is a Marvel fan-fic series featuring my original magic-powered heroes.

I plan to attach drawings of all of them by Part 2, so be ready to tell who's who. : )

The Sanctum Sanctorum: Greenwich Village, New York, NY

Craig Whipple got into his costume with an M Flick of his hands. He was the mystic crime-fighter known as Mr. Miasma, and he came all the way to New York from Oregon because the Sorcerer Supreme himself invited him. He somehow doubted there was something die-hard important behind this...but at the same time, there would never be another coincidental occasion he'd just be "hanging out." Fun night of mage superheroes or not, Mr. Miasma needed a morale boost after loosing his home in a fire.

There were reports spreading the globe over about people born on the same day - June 6th - going on random killing sprees and then mysteriously vanishing. It was all, of course, hush hush by the likes of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the world governments, but as lonely as he was now, Craig had his connections. It was a friendly perk of being a magic user.

His costume consisted of a purple swirled top hat, a grey and purple mask covering his lower face, a deep violet cloak, a darker grey and purple patterned suit, black boots, and classic white magician gloves. He stood on the stoop of the Sanctum Sanctorum, and knocked on the front door with the vintage handle.

A few seconds later, the door unlocked from the other side. An orange, clawed hand gestured for Craig to come in.

He did so, and turned to see the Cat Person heroine known as Tigra close the entrance behind them. He'd actually heard of her; she was a big name in the magic hero community. But there was more than that that he admired about her.

Mr. Miasma blushed intensely under his mask. "Uh...hey. Glad I could make it, Tigra."

Tigra nodded with a smile. "Glad we're familiarizing ourselves. The Avengers don't give a damn about what's going on."

"And...uh, what exactly IS going on?"

"Follow me, Mr. Miasma. The Doctor and Brother Voodoo can offer the full insight."

Craig walked right behind her, trying his best not to faint from the clear view of her ultra-bared feline buttocks.

***

Mr. Miasma wasn't the only obscure mystic in the Sanctum. He was seated in a circle with a few other heroes, and the Sorcerer Supreme himself was sitting at a desk loaded with manuscripts and tomes. What looked like an old map was in the center.

Strange finally spoke after a quiet and long ten minutes, informing the new faces to feel free to introduce themselves over some organic grape juice. "I don't want to assume you'd prefer alcohol, but that's a no-go for tonight. I don't need anyone getting drunk; we have a lot else to get to."

With a snap of his fingers, a series of glasses levitated toward the guests. The juice filled them as the mystics grabbed them.

Mr. Miasma felt like he was in Barnes & Noble times infinity. There were loaded bookshelves on all sides, and he was sipping on the most delicious stuff in this realm. He wondered if the drink alone cost a fortune.

He took a look at the seated others. There was a heavily tattooed man in a black and red bandana, with black goggles that had red visors, plus a big ebony lip ring, and a black and crimson vest with one sleeve.

Then next to him was a bizarre yet mysterious humanoid with extremely shiny green skin. He was wearing nothing but a black and green mushroom-shaped cowl that hid his possibly monstrous face, a weirdly jagged talisman, and what looked like minimal armor forged from a garbage can. There was a mallet staff leaning at the side of his chair.

And next to him was a mime-ish woman with a light blue, pointy hood. She had a darker blue and shale costume, brown pointed boots, and black and white striped gloves.

And next to her was a tank top wearing man with an elongated beard. It was white with patterns of orange. Black pants and tan sage boots made up the rest of his apparel.

Finally, there was a woman in a red and white mask with visors that looked like gouts of fire. She had a mellow yellow cloak, a light grey robe, black skirt, and boots that exposed her feet, only to be covered by sandals. What skin of hers could be seen was blue-ish grey.

Mr. Miasma decided to go first. "I'm Mr. Miasma, and I started out fighting crime after life as a David Blaine reject. I'm from Portland, and it's not as weird as people think."

The long bearded man went next. "I'm Bro Monk. Originally from Iceland, and I pack a magic punch. Learned magic from Slavic pagans and how to fight from Himalayan sages."

Next was the naked kobold-y dude. "I'm Gafeek the Fungus Bearer. I specialize in mushroom magic and am not from this realm. I also live in a sentient dumpster."

Next was the mystic in the yellow cloak. "I'm Burnjuria. I specialize in the fire based summoning schools, and can easily bring forth a whole army of lava trolls. I'm also half elf."

Lastly was the mime girl. "I'm Voidout. I practiced as a mime originally as a joke, but broke free from the school to fight crime. The whole 'mute' thing didn't suit me."

Doctor Strange smiled. "Well, it's great you could all show up. Believe me now when I say I need you.

"Innocent people are disappearing after losing their sanity. Who's up for saving magic and the realms as we know it?"

@blindinglights: Yeah she'd be interesting to see. Especially as a love interest. I think it's pointless they're bringing back Mary Jane. : /

Well known or obscure, which ones would you want to see? Doesn't have to be just the ones in the image below; he has like two dozen more of them. ( Yes I know Sandman's a villain so he doesn't count. )

Akira Toriyama is no stranger to ripping off DC Comics ( Goku is Superman, Piccolo is Martian Manhunter ). But does anyone think Jaco and his cohorts in the Patrol are striking similar to the Green Lantern Corps? They have their own symbol and everything:

Tales of Tri Xandar is my fan story series centering on original Nova Corps members. It's set twenty years after Sam Alexander first got into contact with the Nova Force. He's now a grown man, and the Corps has since reformed again.

This first part centers on Mourbon. ( His name sounds like "bourbon" ). Enjoy! :)

Mourbon flew away from Xandar as he got a call to report to his home world. It was the actual first time that he did his duty there; most of the time it was at the two other planets within his solar system. He was hoping this day would come.

He came from a hyper muscular mollusk species of aliens that was the frequent target of slavers. As wild as he and his people looked, they had the technology to combat the likes of the Spartoi and Skrulls. But they were also pacifists, and Mourbon was an outcast for believing in killing as something to resort to if talk was toward a brick wall and ineffective.

He had light purple skin, large gecko eyes, a vertically rectangular head that stretched forward but could bend backward, and a crooked lipless mouth. To the bottom was a mild stubble of brown hair, which he also had on his bulbous cranium in a spiky small patch. He had a black headband with the Corps star symbol on top.

His Nova uniform consisted of a blue tank top with his rank, covered by a small open black vest. The rest of the apparel was the signature yellow gauntlets, a red loincloth, and blue armored leggings. He liked to lay back as he flew in the void of space and flex his almost naked legs. Flying while half his body looked like it was on fire was cool, but this was somehow cooler for him. He was glad his Millennial rank days were over.

Mourbon reached his destination. Plaaxu VII. His Worldmind sensed an anomaly sucking up energy and causing a continent-wide blackout. He was just outside the orbit, and spotted the large plain of dark land to the northeast.

Suddenly, a low key BOOM sounded. He couldn't see exactly where it came from but a large, bright white dome of power started expanding faster than he could tell. This was already worse than he thought: That area was the most populous of the planet, with mostly colonists and space tourists...and now they were all likely dead.

Mourbon shielded his eyes as the atomic mass of energy climaxed its expansion. Crap, he thought. What happened?

"TOO BRIGHT, HUH?!?" screamed a voice some twelve feet away.

Mourbon felt something knock into his neckless head. He flew upward some fields away from the home world before he caught himself. He quickly conjured a kinetic force field sphere around him, and looked around to see who it was that punched him.

Just below at the corner of his eye was a cross-armed Earthling...or very humanoid man if otherwise. He had black, lopsided hair with a string of white. He wore a red, unusual shirt, white chest plates with a split end, puffy, dark blue pants, and black boots with red spiked cleats. Mourbon's big eyes widened. Then his thin brows curled in anger.

"Hold it right there," he said, spawning smaller kinetic balls of energy from his shield. The electric light blue glow of it brightened as yellow balls glowed on his gauntlets.

"What the hell happened down on Plaaxu? DON'T MOVE!!!"

The humanoid laughed. Then he held his hands in the air, I-Give-Up style. "I'm Azaar. Omega-level Kree mutant. I'm with the terrorist group Dawn of the First, and I'll dead need a break after I blow up the rest of this s*** planet." He smiled.

Mourbon immediately fired with both spawned balls and his gauntlet blasters. The Kree man avoided the shots like they were nothing. Damn, the alien Nova thought. Dawn of the First?

"I'm AWESOOOOME," Azaar sang as he dodged the energetic bullets. "TIME TO DIE!"

Mourbon expanded the shield after everything missed. It hit Azaar, who clutched onto it like it was non-flat glass. He screamed as he pushed the glowing blue sphere back inward.

Mourbon set the shield to blow. It blasted the Kree slightly backward. He caught himself and grinned, and his mouth was bloody. "You Novas are complete p****es," he said. "The universe doesn't need you! I don't know why there isn't an army of flarking Strontians acting as space cops over you!! It's...haha...urgh..."

Azaar let out a scary mixture of laughs and grunts as the void of outer space shook around him. A sort of orange glaze was released on all sides of the mutant, and what appeared to be astral wings appeared out of his shoulders.

It...can't be, thought Mourbon. The Phoenix Force...

Azaar laughed manically. When he spoke again, his voice turned death deep: "Know this, mortal...I killed Galactus. He proposed I become his Herald after seeing I was...able to bond perfectly with the Force. And I f***ing killed him! HAHAHAHAHA!!!!

"Believe me when I say now that I am both the most powerful single creature in the universe and...the Force itself. My incendiary retribution shall quell you all...I will spare you this once, but not without doing what I promised."

He conjured a giant ball of celestial fire. Mourbon blasted him to no avail. He then charged at the Kree only for him to get backhand slapped. It knocked him out.

***

Mourbon woke up to the horror of seeing Plaaxu blown to lunar sized bits. As gut wrenching as this was...this was something the Nova Corps couldn't handle. Xandar would once again be destroyed....this time by a sole man who could blow up planets. Better than GALACTUS, who was supposedly DEAD.......

Morboun tapped his headgear. "Command, this is Mourbon. You're not gonna like this, and that's an understatement."

...They have so much depth. The Spectre side story in Infinite Crisis was much more enjoyable than the rest of the comic. All it was was senseless bloody pulp beating stupidity courtesy of Superboy Prime. ( Just my opinion ).

I remember watching the Teen Titans cartoon from the early 2000s, and I saw an episode based on Raven. That's when I found out Trigon is her father. My love for DC's supernatural side eventually grew from there, I saw the film version of Constantine and read Infinite Crisis for the Sentinels of Magic sub plot some years later. Kinda scary at first, but it was cool. :)

So what do you guys think? What graphic novels do you recommend the most dealing with DC's homo-magi verse?