Rattlesnake Jack let out a small chuckle. "If'n ya did stay in those waters for too long, 'tis possible that ya may be sufferin' from de-lusions slicker." Intertwining his fingers together he turned his hands around, so his palms faced forward as he stretched out his arms. After keeping it out for a few seconds he quickly returned his hands back to his side and held them over his gun-holsters. "Can't beat a good sweat-lodge pardner. Just gotta make sure ya know when ta get out."

Rawk merely stood and listened as the conversations happened. Right now, he was trying to sort though exactly what was going on. It didn't help that something in his head kept telling him things he knew he shouldn't know... like the fact that they were in the Cyberworld... oh, and that Link's personality had overrode his friend's.

---

While Rawk was dealing with his own issues, Link was trying to wrap his head around the 'rocket' that he'd been told about. How did it fly? What sort of magic powered it? Link was on the verge for a breakdown. He knew nothing of a lot of things he'd seen. But the most mysterious thing of all was all the 1's and 0's that were flying around. Just what was this place?

All the while, as people popped in, chaos was doing a head count. “erm. Let’s see.. Time for a checklist of who I can piss off for fun and profit~ alpha? Check. Old ass fart? Check. Cowboy looking guy who thinks it’s all a delusion? Check.”
He listed off aloud, counting on his fingers. “heh..elf in a skirt! Oh yes, check. Red riding knock off with a huge frikken scythe and knockers? Hehe..Double check. Puss, with ADHD.. yep, right there riding the missile. Probably gonna be interested in the next shiny thing that passes by. Oh. That’s a whole hour of fun right there. Distract the killer kitty! Hmm..” once again, chaos did the count on his hands, certain he was missing something.

Key was walking with ease, what surprised her was that she still somehow could hear well enough the others talking. Well everything was possible when you found you self shrunk into a earth spirit.Even a improved hearing was that much of a shocker.
Year?
She closed her eyes, the feeling of calm filling her up and not knowing what a year is. Opening eyes to just in time see Taokafka cling himself onto the rocket. ''Its 2014 For me december! '' She called to the group smiling back at the adorable kitten who protested at the adorable part but not on the kitten part.
"What'd you say, Elf gal? I heard food. Is there food here?"

''There could be food inside the rocket, if it was intended to for manned missions, But we have to find a way inside.''
Just like a charm a hatch opened close to her, Talijas eyes shined once more as she all but skipped to it and jumped inside. She was inside a rocket. A russian rocket on top. A voice from the radio? echoed around her. Now she was kinda glad she was this small as moving around was that much easier.
Her eyes were absorbing everything, from every button and small screen up to every pipe and cable there was. The mention of stargate made her face drop of any emotion, placing her hands on the back, saying. ''Indeed, it seems so.''
A giggle left her at her joke, being a fan of the show a rocket with knowledge of stargate lost in some digital world what do you want more?...Well maybe a digimon or two but that would be just greedy now.

''Well on more serious things dream or not, you dont happen to have some food for the kitten man? I would really dislike it if he damages you in his search for it.'' She said as she gently ghostly felt some of the switches and buttons. Having zero idea what does what. But finding it all extremely fascinating.

''I was thinking that I was the one dreaming but somehow I know I am not asleep. And I keep on wondering who ... called me here. '' She said aloud not really minding to who she is saying it.

"Huh." Taokafka said as a hatch opened on the rocket. Suddenly, the thing spoke. So, it was a sentient rocket? That was... interesting Tao, are you seeing this? the feline vigilante mentally vocalized. Of course! I wonder what this is? You mean, you don't know what it is? That's a rocket, you can use it to go to outer space. What's "outer space" meow? ...Nevermind.
Taokafka decided to follow the cute elf gal into Rocket Man, because there was at least a chance of there being food in Rocket Man, and that was better than nothing. Taokafka carefully made his way over to the newly opened passage, trying not to damage any important systems while on his journey. This was rather hard considering his only way of staying on Rocket Man were razor sharp claws.
Finally, Taokafka made it to the hatch and hopped in, tuning in to the conversation at hand. "Dreaming? Nah, I ain't dreaming. Almost all of my dream involve... Well, actually there's one prerequisite present, but I have no idea where I'd find a whip here." Tao said, his contemplative pose betrayed by his grin. "But, on a more serious note, I don't think you can have another conscious in a dream. It's just a... feeling, you know? Like, when you just know someone's lying? An intuition, or an instinct, I guess. Wherever we are, it's not earth anymore." Taokafka said, looking around the small room they were in. So many shiny buttons, meow... Maybe just one-. Before Tao could even finish her thought, Taokafka pressed a random button on the rocket's console. "Does this get me food?" He asked retroactively.

Willa furrowed her brow at the assorted replies regarding her question of the year. As far as she knew, it was 2014, but what was up with the random numbers coming out? Like three-thousand something, and the 1974 from the rocket? How could it be both 2014 and 1974 at the same time? Willa contemplated this for a minute before she realized that she was just going round and round in circles and gave up, deciding that maybe later on everything would clear up. She watched with a small laugh as an adorable elf dressed in yellow ran into a rocket, followed by the Pokemon or whatever the hell he or she or it was. Then there was a man who looked to be from the Wild West that had been identified as Rattlesnake Jack, asking if they were from the city or something. His lingo was a bit hard to follow, and she had no idea what a sweat-lodge could possibly be.

"So what should we do?" Willa asked aloud. "Clearly, we're all stranded here for some reason or the other or maybe the universe just decided it wanted to fuck with us, but what happens after twenty four hours or whatever? Does anyone have any sort of food or water on them, in case we're still here after a week? Or longer?" As much as Willa wanted to get back to her own world, she knew that she had to be practical and find a way to at least be alive when the time came...if the time ever did come. Deciding that it would be in her best interest to figure out what the items in her backpack did, she tentatively sat down, balancing precariously on the floaty thing that was not water yet not the solid ground.

Unzipping the bag, this time Willa pulled out a thin piece of a soft green cloth that was wrapped around a white stick. She unraveled the bright lime ribbon in confusion until the whole thing was spread across her lap, along with the miniature stick. It was then that she realized what it was-a tiny rhythmic gymnastics ribbon. She frowned. What use was that to her? How did she get it, and why was it here? It looked exactly like the one she had at home....just downsized a ton. Sighing, she brushed a strand of her hair away from her face and looked back up to see what the others were doing.

Charlie arrived at the rocket 'It pretty fucken big.' Ryan said in his head. "It's a rocket dude, what 'cha expect?" The turtle moved around till they found a ladder. When Charlie stepped on to the ship the turtle disappeared. He sits on the rocket, "Much better view point." He leans back. He puts his hand out next to him and summons Oreo again. He pets Oreo as she climbs into his lap. 'and now,' "We wait..."

"Well, if I wanted to lock a dozen people in a room with no explanation, it'd be for two reasons." Bee said, resting his arm on his hilt.
"One is because I thought they were a threat too be contained. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that's not the case. Our forms have changed. I can take a guess at how they were chosen, but... It's best not to jump to conclusions just yet."
"The second is that I wanted to mess with them. If we were summoned for a reason, you'd hope we'd at least get a host. A message, a note, anything. Either this is some weird cosmic social experiment, or our summoner doesn't have much forethought." the suited man paced back and forth.
"Sucks, doesn't it? The waiting is the hardest pa- single action army? Nice." he said.

Rattlesnake Jack's eyes glimmered with joy, as Bee noticed the gun. "Good eye pardner." Reaching for his holsters he quickly pulled out his twin Colt Single Action Army revolvers as he gave them a twirl with his index fingers for flair. "For the un-trained kiddies, I wouldn't recommend doin' that." He said as he then held out the guns, his index fingers on the revolver barrel. "Apache and Cherokee. OWAs, classic models, first generation. These are my babies." He quickly returned them back to the holsters. "Lovely guns they are."

Rattlesnake Jack glanced at Bee as he noticed something that interested him, "Say, whatcha got there in the scabbard there?"

"This? This is Korbo." Bee tugged the scabbard from where it rested on its holster, and held it horizontally, pushing the blade free with his thumb.
"An O-katana. I always had a thing for Japanese swords. Laminated steel blade, that subtle curve... the best pieces are as much a work of art as a tool of war." He inched the blade from the scabbard, revealing its full length, the edge a bright white contrasting against the dark gray of the core. With a brief flourish, it disappeared back into its sheathe.
"I love this sword." he stated with a soft smile.

Rattlesnake Jack gave a single nod to Bee. "A true man loves their weapons, it is as much as a part of them as if'n it was their own name. In the end, they are one and the same, the connection is such that words can't fully express the beauty of it." Rattlesnake Jack paused as he spoke again, "And a fine blade ya got there. Take care o'her." He instinctively reached back down to his own guns, before giving a single pat to the both of them on his holsters. Rattlesnake Jack swayed on closer to Bee as he extended out his right hand, "Jack. Rattlesnake Jack. And you are pardner?"

"Oho..to hear speak pride amongst wielders in their weapons..makes an old man crack a grin. Of Course..in my opinion, one cannot put foot to the battlefield without a weapon of utility, as well as combat." Omega mused, hearing jack and bee's chat.

"Take..hmm..well, My weighted cane.
Indeed, it's mainly a improvised striking weapon, a club, in common terms. But, it has other uses. For one, in skilled hands, it is a short-staff, as well as s club. Also, the weighted top can be used to retain balance on uneven ground. Or as a hammer, should the need arise. " he stated, pointing the features out. " And, while this last point is a luxury..the hollow shaft holds five flasks. Each filled with Rudesheim wine of the 1727 vintage, by repute the greatest vintage of the 18th century. Oldest drinkable wine in existence, my friends. But none better to have come the eve of battle."

Rawk noticed the showing off of weaponry. He clicked the buttons on his bracelets, and the cyber swords fell out. "Still dunno how I got these exactly, as they were just made-up figments of my imagination until I found myself here. But these are twin Mechoron Cyberswords. Personally designed for me, these blades are held to me by attaching to these bracelets. The material that keeps them attached is like rubber, but it's practically unbreakable, and can stretch up to five feet." To demonstrate, Rawk flung the sword in a direction that was uninhabited. The band stretched out to the max length, then snapped back blindingly fast. Rawk instinctively caught the blade by the hilt. He then clicked the buttons on the bottoms of the hilts, and the swords disappeared back into the bracelets. "I don't understand the exact tech that lets them be stored in the bracelets, but it's convenient, so I'm not complaining."

---

Link, meanwhile, decided to draw his Master Sword and Hylian Shield after Rawk finished. "The Master Sword. This is the blade of Evil's Bane. I am one of many Links to have wielded this blade. It has many properties that prevent evil ones from even being able to touch the blade. It's also indestructible. And my Hylian Shield is completely indestructible as well. I think this might be the original one that was forged by Lanayru. In my pouch, I have various equipment, some of which I guess could be used in battle." Link said, sheathing the Master Sword to the scabbard across his back and attaching his Hylian Shield to the scabbard.

"Yeah... Tell ya what, we should probably hit a sweat lounge at some point. You and me... And maybe a couple of other people... Not sure how we're going to get a rocket ship into one..." Psyga said. As people discussed the possibility of why they're here. He piped up.

"I agree with that second notion... The just toying with us thing. I played in an RPG where we were subject to challenges by deities. More than one RPG... It's... a pretty popular theme." Psyga said to Bee.

Meanwhile, Tear was looking at how Jake twirled his guns around in awe. Then at Bee showing his sword. "Aaaah, gotta love the classics..." A thought popped in her head. "Oooh, are we doing show and tell?" She was lapsing into that persona as she took out a red case and twirled it around herself. It unfolded into a large scythe with a sharp metal blade before she planted the pointy end of the scythe onto the ground. The two could also see that the shaft looks pretty big, almost like the barrel of a sniper rifle. "This is Crescent Rose. On top of it being a scythe, it can also be a high-impact sniper rifle!" She said.

Back with Psyga, he raised an eyebrow at Link. "Huh... Never really heard him talk outside of giving HIYAH!" He thought.

"Name's Bee." he said, shaking the cowboy's hand. It was good to meet someone with an exquisite taste in handguns.

His head turned as the older man began to talk about his cane.
"....Okay, but that's not like beer or anything. I worked for rich white dudes before, Jack, and I guarantee they don't know how to appreciate crappy beer: with friends." he said,
"Or 2am Waffle House trips, for that matter."

"Pardner, if'n yawant to go inta a Sweat Lodge, ya gotta remember that it's a Spiritual Journey." He said to Psyga.

Rattlesnake Jack listened as the others were sharing details of their own weaponry, and other discussions. "Fancy Yo-yo sword ya got there slick." He said to Rawk. Rattlesnake Jack gave a nod to the Elf, "Right well, got yourself a good shield then."

Rattlesnake Jack immediately turned his head when Tear was talking about a scythe that was also a sniper rifle. Arching his right brow he cocked his head to face her. "Missy, remind me later to show you a real sniper rifle, with a bayonet, cause I can see whatcha tryin' to go for. But with sniper, ya ain't wantan ta be gettin' close enough to go with a quick stab."

He shook Bee's hand, "Nice ta meet ya Bee." He gave a chuckle, "Ain't that the truth. Quality of the liquor don't matter, rather the company does. Drinkin' ain't really drinkin' if ya aren't with good pals. Best is if'n ya drink somethin' you and the posey brewed. And early morning trips, always fun."

Rawk nodded at Jack. "Thanks. My name's Rawk. At least, that's what I prefer people to call me." he replied. Link, too, nodded. "Link." he said shortly. He nodded at Jack's comment on the shield. "Best shield in all of Hyrule.They say it was first crafted by the Thunder Dragon Lanayru, who then had an impossible test that one had to pass to be deemed worthy of the shield. Turns out my ancestor, the Hero of the Sky, was worthy." Link shuffled through all the memories of his previous incarnations. Yeah, he had a lot of ancestors...

"I've my reasons. It's less the vintage, more the journey." Omega stated shrugging. " might not have been made by my own hand, but..my soldiers and held our ground, trenched in the cellar of A fort converted from an estate. As it had so happened, casks of That wine were the only drinkable substance at the time.

Hilariously, getting drunk only seemed to make my men more creative in holding the position" He recounted, smirking a bit. "My demolitionist managed to blow five armored brigades apart, while dead drunk and mistaking his soap bar rations for spare C4. Sneaky bastard got the enemy cocky with clear rooms, them blew the fuses on the bombs and the bars! Cleanest display of explosive carnage you'd ever see." Omega laughed, recounting it. "My Assassin ..oh..gentlemen, you've not lived till you've seen an assassin stumble into cover, wait for his target, literally fall, knife first into him and proceed to just drag the body back out of drunken laziness stopping them from making the effort to pull the blade out.

Willa watched as the others began to display their weapons after Bee's comment on Rattlesnake Jack's guns. She pondered the responses she had received to her question for a moment, before looking back down at the miniature ribbon laid across her lap. What was the use of such a small object? She examined the ribbon stick for anything that indicated that it was not simply a downsized ribbon, but to no avail. Furrowing her brow, Willa then examined it more closely, until her fingers found a small lump at the bottom of the stick. It was tiny-about the size of one fourth of her pinkie-but she pressed down on it, and before she knew what was going on, the ribbon enlarged itself to a normal-sized rhythmic gymnastic ribbon. She smiled at the pure familiarity of it; for it looked and felt exactly like the one she owned out there in the real world.

Setting the ribbon aside, Willa reached for the small hoop. The shiny hoop tape was exactly like the tape on the hoop she had at home, down to the last little patch of silver that was missing from one of the color sections. Repeating the process, Willa was able to find a button of sorts along the inside of the hoop. She pressed it, and suddenly the hoop sprang to its full size. Grinning from ear to ear, feeling a tad accomplished for figuring it out, the next thing Willa laid eyes on was her bright cherry pink ball. She was slightly embarrassed by the color, but she was glad to see it. This time, she could not find a button or anything to enlarge the ball to its true size. She played around with it, bouncing it on the "ground" a few times and even letting it roll down her right arm, across her chest area, and across her left arm-a longtime habit of hers. She did not expect the ball to enlarge itself that way, and when it did, it took her by surprise. Shrugging it off, Willa supposed it made sense-it was a simple manipulation she had been performing for years.

After the ball was her pastel blue rope, and it was rather easy to locate this button-at the end of one of the knots. Feeling the rope in her two palms comforted Willa, and she picked up the last item. A pair of plain white clubs was all that remained, and as before with the ball, there was no obvious way to enlarge them. Thinking back to what she did with the ball, Willa performed simple manipulations and tosses with the clubs, actions so deeply ingrained to her muscle memory that she could have performed them in her sleep. What triggered the enlargement of the clubs turned out to be an easy vertical forwards mill. With her arsenal. so to speak, complete, Willa shoved everything as best as she could back into the bag (with the exception of the ribbon, because of the long lime green tail hanging out) and returned her attention to the rest of the group, who seemed to be conversing about their weapons.

The little elf's Teal'c impression was so incongrous that the N1-L3 burst out laughing. It was a strangely metallic laugh, accompanied by the sloshing of fuel in pipes somewhere.

"I think there's stores in the compartment above you," it transmitted. "But-"

"Атмосферное сигнализации"

Without much warning, the cat-person had recalibrated the N1-L3's atmospheric pressure system. With the new "zero" of one atm, the internal cabin pressure read as zero atm. This was frustrating, and it took the N1-L3's full attention for a few moments to shut off the alarms and manually calibrate the system to a more reasonable level. Meanwhile, Oxygen poured noisily out of the tanks as it subconsciously tried to correct the situation. It nearly missed the ensuing conversation about dreams.

"Things do seem... strangely detailed for a dream." the N1-L3 transmitted while popping open the consumables locker. "Let's see, reality-checks: Well, I'm a rocket floating in code, and all of that is impossible. I must be dreaming. Unless this is a weird alternate-dimension thing that I slipped into." It pondered this for a moment. As Sutternalt, the N1-L3 had had contingency plans in place should an alternate-dimension version of himself attempt to make contact, but he hadn't ever considered how to distinguish an alternate dimension from a dream.

Circuits clattered noisily and various indicator lights blinked on and off as the N1-L3 thought the problem over.

Theoretically if you fell asleep, dreamed, and woke up, then you could still be in a dream. Standard reality checks went out the window if you took a different form in the alternate dimension. How many fingers does a rocket have? None! Checking to see if you're still breathing or near-sighted? Rockets don't breathe! That left consistency - if things stayed the same after looking at them and forgetting about them, then you probably weren't dreaming. You could also make the argument - as the cat-person said - that you can't dream other consciousnesses (not really, anyway). But how do you empirically test for that?

On the other hand, dreams always made sense. Or force back-justified themselves to make sense. Or just prevented you from questioning them in the first place. So if there were phenomenae that blatantly didn't fit - that he had no explanation for how or why they were happening - and he could think about how or why they were happening, then that could count as evidence, too.

Some guy rode up to the N1-L3 on a turtle, and perched on top of the launch escape system. That didn't make sense. And there was no explanation forthcoming. And he could still think about it. External cameras still showed the same... people... as before. And the tiny elf and cat-person weren't talking like he would - their phrasing was off.

"I suppose," he transmitted, "that we'd have to treat this as real unless-slash-until we're convinced otherwise. Which- wait, as a rocket, do I need fuel? Or power? Damnit, I've never been a rocket before! Do I eat? Is that even a relevant question?"