On Earth:
Jarmarcus was born in a lower-class family in Harlem in the early 50's. Subject to vicious racial inequality, an absentee father and a drug addict, abusive mother, he quickly made the streets his home.
He was bigger than most boys his age, which led him to use his strength for less than noble purposes. He fought, he stole, and he survived. In his teens, he fell in with the wrong group and joined a gang. Due to his size and street-fighting prowess, he was put in charge of guarding deliveries of heroin and cocaine into rival gang territory. While other gang members would prefer firearms or knives, Jamarcus rushed into the fray with nothing but his bare fists. With an uncanny ability to dodge, incredible athleticism, and knowledge of every dirty trick in the book, Jamarcus was truly a sight to behold.
After years of loyal work under his boss, Jamarcus was given a prime piece of real estate down three blocks of Harlem and "employed" roughly a dozen girls. Finally, he was living the high life.
He had it all, groovy drugs, fly honeys, and all the money he could spend. But he wasn't happy..
He missed living for the moment, the rush of blood to his head when he dove at his enemies, fists flying.
If only he knew what the multiverse had in store for him...
---
Angry purple clouds formed out of nowhere on a balmy summer day over the sleepy town of Heldren. Concerned villagers peered towards the sky in apprehension and a quiet, anxious chatter was heard throughout the town.
"What's happening?"
"Are the gods displeased with us?"
Without warning, the sky split asunder with mauve lightning and an object hurtled out of a shining violet sphere in the sky.
A faint crack/thud was heard from the nearby forests as the object impacted earth.
---
Jamarcus slowly opened his eyes..
A crowd of strangely dressed folk surrounded him, bearing old-school farming implements and torches.
That's strange, he thought..
Last he remembered, he jivin' with a radical little hunny in one of the more happenin' discos in Manhattan.
Maybe I smoked too much of the good stuff?
He looked around.
Beyond the crowd of shocked faces lay an ancient pine forest and calm mountains. Some sort of winged beast flew overhead and one of the villagers seemed to have a small, cruel green midget secured by a chain.
"S%@! son, I ain't in Harlem no mo."
---
After coming to his senses in the forest and some confused discussion with the villagers, Jamarcus made his way to the village.
He knew he wasn't on the same planet anymore.. Maybe he went back in time? The people were dressed like characters in that Robin Hood play he saw at school that one time.
But what about the strange churches? And weird creatures?
He rubbed at his eyes, and slumped down into the tavern chair.
The last thing he could remember were the glowing purple eyes of his disco partner, and a faint echoing cackle in the background.
If he could just find that woman in this strange world, he may just be able to go home.
A comely bar wench sauntered over and sat on his lap with a coy smile.
Jamarcus grinned.
Some things never change.
