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Member of the wasteland collective


Practicioner of Magick.

staTTer woke up. He woke up to some earthworms invading his nostrils. At least he was not to die from heat. He woke up to the strange sound a birdless forest makes whilst escaping from an ear canal. A lot of vertigo ensued. He walked or stumbled covered in the black rich soil that he had emerged from.

Leaning on a tree's trunk, his face collided with the bark, an arm stuck in a hole, his hand gripping a flask inside said hole. Freeing his arm, he fell sideways and his flaskless hand broke the soil again.

Another strange thing ... a metal handle stuck to something or another was grasped by staTTer. His day went on, playing a drunken master of not being in control, with governance of 1.73, Psi, Phi and Pi.

Times went by in many a way. Survival happened. Some guy and his flunky diddled some other guys gates. Someone died. staTTer traded an amulet for clothes and found some lands that are just plain wrong. there also was recursive stuff with iterations of faceless trees barking orders and a doghouse leaving baba-yaga-style.

Long story short, staTTer has some eerie talents that include finding and creating stuff that someone else is looking for. How? Magick? Science? Christopher Walken? The who knows!

Improving on improvisation, making make-believe stuff, believing in itself makes sense to staTTter. He believes in making the strange, the useful, the subversive and the experimentally shunned fabricate itself to its logical conclusion at an opportune moment in some reality or other.

Welcome to staTTer's corn Ucop iuM of creative solutions and unexpected results.
Gimme that orange stick thingie!" *snaps fingers* "The hollow one, tube, erm... copper tube...
Fly you tools!
Preternatural science..." *scoffs* "... it's your abnormally small field of vision that makes it look that way.
In Progress