Dayna

Winston had a new puzzle before him. After speaking with the red-headed girl he needed to conduct a much stranger interview.

"Hello. I am ever so sorry that we nearly put you in storage... I assure you it is only because we have never seen anything like you before." Winston decided to assume a higher level of sentience, then adjust his communication from there. So far, oddly enough, everyone found spoke english. Why wouldn't a ball of light that didn't have a visible mouth?!

The light was in a jar.

"They told me that you can speak? Do you have a name? I am Winston. I am here to help."

What was this place? Or perhaps the better question was where was she. Dayna could not recall how she had come to be in this strange place. She had managed to cling to the events that had been taking place before she lost consciousness however. She had been at home, with the ones she cared most for. At home in the Eternal Gardens of Sentrance, right alongside her favorite waterfall. She could remember its roar, the force of its energy as it rushed over the rocks but at the same time, she could recall its gentle lapping further downstream once it had calmed. She remembered the familiar pulses of the other elemental energies as they resonated with her very core. This place, felt strange. At least it had felt strange before they showed up. There had been a definitive ebb of elemental current which she had sensed once she awakened. Everything looked different though. Strange structures of stone off in the distance. There had been glints of other energies she was accustomed two as well, but these energies were fluctuating. They were hard enough to feel let alone track and remain connected to. She had found iced over water, had seen it with her own green orbs, but yet, had felt no connection with its energies or that of the flames that littered the stone structures on the horizon. This place was cold, empty and what little fluctuations she had sensed from the frozen waters, and ground bellow where she hovered had felt so foreign.

The elemental sprite had been so lost amidst the strange land she had barely felt the life force approach her before she had been captured. The strange prison fell down upon her and suddenly, whatever shred of connection she had felt with the elemental energies of this new land became severed and a great emptiness enshrouded her.

They had spoken to her briefly and she had understood their tongue. It seemed as though they had understood the responses she thought she was giving them in her native tongue as well, and she knew that she had sounded anything but welcoming. How could they blame her really? What did they truly expect since they had sealed her up in this prison that canceled out any form of energy reception.

Two emerald green orbs manifested within her mass and she glared up at the strange creature before her. "Well aren't you strange looking!" When she spoke the sound was a feminine echo that seemed to pulsate from her entire mass. She continued bitterly her words laced with displeasure" Not to bright are you? Of course I have name, but why should I give it to you? Your strange looking pals trapped me in here. They didn't even spare me a moment to greet them. Is that how you things treat strangers? Is it part of some strange social culture to just run around catching things in strange clear prisons? Where I come from, we a least give strangers a fair chance before locking them away or extinguishing them."

Her blue mass pulsed several shades of a darker blue, conveying her displeasure as clearly as her voice did. Dayna vibrated her form rapidly in an attempt to expand with enough force to shatter whatever the prison was constructed of and although she filled what was left of the empty space and the entire inside of the prison turned an opaque sapphire blue causing it to wobble then topple over, the structure held fast as it rolled back and forth across the table.
"Damn it!" she spat as her green orbs reorientated themselves to face the strange creature called Winston. The furious glare seemed intense enough to burn through a piece of steel. "I hate this place, it feels so empty. where the hell am I anyway?"

Mallaidh

The man oozed charisma like an exotic frog seeped poison. Mallaidh was, however, placated by the gesture, and was even glad of it, feeling her confidence grow more than was wise.

She followed the two, noticing how the cyclops woman seemed to be judging her. For her part, Mallaidh kept her face carefully blank, not wanting Rozalind to read her; that sort of knowledge was twice as valuable as even the finest steel, and thrice as dangerous.

However, the shifting of the whole room made her stumble, as it caught her by surprise, but not as much as when she saw the portholes, and what was outside them. They were underwater! Truly, magic was far different, but no less awesome than Mallaidh had expected. She marvelled as they passed an eight-armed beast, tiny eyes below a swollen head. She’d never seen an octopus before. Its body was fluid and flowing and it propelled itself along. It never occurred to question how they themselves were moving; the answer was simple to Mallaidh: magic.

Too soon, they came to a halt, and it was time to come away from the window into the vastness of the deep blue, but that took great effort for Mallaidh to pull herself away from such beauty, previously unknown.

The room they entered next was larger, and much busier. It was all quite intimidating, so much so that Mallaidh found herself accepting another coffee, despite having nearly vomited from it before. This time, however, she doubted she could spit it back into the cup, as the room had too many eyes. She puffed out her chest and downed the hot liquid when it was given to her, as she would a flagon of ale, supressing the grimace with all her might.

She grinned manically, mainly at Twain, but also cast it across the room, and placed the empty vessel upon the table.

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

Herbert

The deafening lack of sound seemed to wake Herbert. He was on his back. He saw the night sky, a total black, completely starless, and the face of the moon was missing in all its lustre. The whole world seemed muted; everything was grey, as though the night, rather than gifting a sombre blue-caste, had drained the colour away. The blades of grass were glassy and ashen, the type you could cut yourself on, and reeds rose around like colossal skeletal fingers, a hand reaching upwards for the heavens.

Once he had pushed himself into a sitting position, he then, with protest from his knees and back, pain that screamed only dully and far off, much more conscious than subconscious, a placebo as opposed to a reality, got to his feet. He looked around. From horizon to horizon, the abysm of the void sky yawned. The land was incredibly flat, but there appeared to be grey wisps in the distance, more substantial than grass or emaciated reeds. A river ran underneath the sky, with no beginning or end in sight, a winding, infinite snake of black, with silver strands flashing through it, like bolts of liquid mercury. It was huge but deathly silent.

“I did not expect you back so soon.”

Herbert felt himself jump, but the sensation was hushed and removed; like everything else.

A figure was standing ankle-deep in the slow, shallow waters near the bank. Herbert formed the impression it was woman, though this thought was alien and not his own. She was made of shadows, she was made of rags, she was dressed in fine silks, and she was not there at all. Herbert did not struggle to comprehend this; again, the confusion and nausea of the contradictory realities did not reach his forefront of awareness. The dim tinge of recognition swelled in his brain, but the grogginess and un-clarity meant he could pin no time, place or name to her.

She smiled. Well, one of her smiled; the amalgam of planes managed to instil no small measure of fear, without being immediately apparent as to why.

“It’s not your time yet.”

A thousand questions. All would go unasked, for now, by the leaden tongue. She looked off, far into the abyss.

“I would not recommend sleeping again for a while. The divide has thinned and your being is in flux.”

He managed a slow step, as though he were moving through treacle. She halted him with a stare, a snarl, a smile, nothing.

“The Living are waiting for you. Go to them.”

A command he followed.

Voices swam in Herbert’s skull as he came to. He must have somehow slipped off, despite his fear. Truly, he was exhausted then.

There was a hive of activity, down the hall; the voices and smells reached him: coffee and tea, and sweet pastries and cakes. His stomach growled, demanding he go and eat, or it would induce an awful pain in his gut. Herbert abided. He threw back the sheets and hobbled on his ill-rested legs, stifling a yawn, but oddly, he did not feel like sleeping.

He staggered into the room with the table, and took a moment to observe the congregation. Gears were set in motion as the engine in his head began firing on all cylinders, piecing together the machination and working towards realisation. Soon, he would no longer be able to hide from reality.

For now, he was hungry enough that he could. He took a crescent of a buttery bread-like substance from the young man, and began appeasing his restless stomach.

XIII had stayed quiet for the most part. He just observed and took note of the surroundings. When the sound of a door opening came from the meeting room, he made his way to the room. He took a seat and grabbed one of the cups that Zesiro had brought with him. It smelled like a strong black coffee, but he wouldn't take a sip until he watched the others drink without issue. He didn't trust the place or the yet.

XIII folded his hands under his chin and watched Zesiro. It was strange that at the current moment, this man was the only one here in a room with possibly dangerous people. There was technically nothing stopping them from overpowering Zesiro and bartering for freedom. But that didn't mean that he could be overpowered, and if he took consideration of what John said and that they were actually underwater, they'd be stuck.

The sound of the door opening drew XIII's gaze away from Zesiro. Out from the doors came Twain, a woman covered in bandages and burn marks, most likely the one Twain helped in the castle, and a woman he hadn't seen before. She grabbed a cup of coffee from Twain and downed the entire thing, and gave what looked like a forced grin to everyone. Twian spoke up and suggested that they get start getting comfortable before asking where the old guy was just before he walked into the meeting room.

XIII continued to stay quiet as he now watched Twain.

This was alot for Wolfe to take in. It was 2016, and Hirsch was here. Wolfe felt a bit better knowing Hirch would be around.

"Ok, so somehow, I was sent 4 years into the future?" Wolfe asked.

"It seems that way," Gemma replied.

Wolf began to ask other questions. Sports championships won, political changes in the last 4 years. The end of the war.

"It appears you are from this current timeline, from my universe, or our universe," she said correcting her self.

"Our universe? The multiverse theory?"

Gemma giggled. "It isn't so much a theory anymore, more of a secretive fact now...you'll see soon enough."

"What about Hirsch can I see him?"

"Of course, you will be escorted to another room, your clothing should be there as well." Gemma said.

"What about my gear, and weapon?" Wolfe asked concerned.

"Oh, yes, we have all your equipment in a storage locker, and your rifle is in our armory, don't worry about that now, go, see your friend I am sure your anxious to meet up with him."

They exhanged pleasantries and both headed out of the room, Wolfe following Gemma.

A large bald man in all black placed a hand lightly on Wolfe shoulder.

"This way sir, I'll show you to your friend."

A few minutes later Wolfe walked into a small room with a couch, a table, a small tv, and a mirror/sink on the car wall. Their uniforms folded on the table.

"Wolfe!" Hirsch exclaimed. Moving to each other they grasped their right hands toghether and brought it in for a hug, the bro hug if you will.

"Damn ma'fucker I thought you were vapor after that wave hit you."

"Nah man you know I can't be offed that easily."

"Ya you're too ugly to die," Hirsch laughed, they both laughed, merely just relieved that they are both alive.

"Dude did you know its 2016?" Hirsch asked.

"Yea man, somehow, that crystal had temporal relocating technology, I'm guessing it didn't go off right, we were sent into the multiverse, luckily we ended up back on earth, Russia to be exact."

Hirsch looked at Wolfe confused, Wolfe sighed.

"It was magic," Wolfe said.

"Ahhh, makes sense now," Hirsch nodded, then asked, "Bruh, sup wit your hair G? You going trendy on me?"

"The hell you talking about?" Wolfe asked confused. Hirsch moved Wolfe over to a mirror, sure enough, Wolf had a streak of white hair along his hairline where bangs would be.
Wolfe wondered for a moment, when did that happen? Then it hit him, a memory flashed passed him, the memory of that place he was before he woke up in Russia. He shuddered a bit at the memory.

"You good man?" Hirsch asked concerned.

"Hey, when you got hit by the wave, what happened to you, what do you remember?" He asked Hirsch.

He thought for a moment, then spoke, "Well, all I remember was seeing black, but I could hear my own breathing, and heartbeat, after that another flash, and I was somewhere on my back outside, then I blacked out, you?"

"Same," Wolfe said, he didn't tell Hirsch about his rendezvous with hell.

"So, what the fuck is going on? Where are we? Who are we with?" Hirsch asked.

"I was told that it will all be explained shortly, once we're dressed," Wolfe said reaching for his desert MARPAT uniform.

They began to get dressed, their uniforms had been washed and felt clean and crisp putting them on. Once their utilities were on that stepped outside. The large man escorted them down the hall to a set of double doors label "Confrence Room."

They stepped inside, only to see an array of characters, some of these people had odd clothing. All eyes turned to the two marines who just walked in. Hirsch stepped in front, slightly raised his arms and loudly proclaimed, "Howdy! I'm here for the gangbang!"

Only to be slapped on the back of the head by Wolfe.
"Goddamnit Hirsch, we are here less than 10 seconds and you already make us look like jerkoffs. God. Damnit. Hirsch. Just sit down you moron." Wolfe said with a hand to his face.

They took their seat. Wolfe looking reserved and stoic, Hirsch sitting there making eyes at a young red head he spotted.

Vata was one of the first from the group of people in the hallway to walk into the meeting room. The smell of food and drink was irresistible to him. He tried not to dwell on the fact that he didn't recognize any of the food here, or the fact that the coffee tasted pretty strange. All that mattered is that he was finally getting some food in him, and that he was somewhere safe. There were a lot of unfamiliar faces in the room, and many of the familiar ones seemed uneasy here, despite the seemingly pleasant environment. Vata took a seat, finishing off a bagel, and attempted to look unaffected by the slight tension in the room. Despite that, he started to fidget a little bit while he was waiting at the table.

Winston squinted at the light in the jar.

“You are on… Earth.” He quickly assumed that, like most everyone he had talked to today, no one knew what he was talking about. “That is the name of this planet… Ah… World… Ahem. We have never seen anything quite like you either.”

Winston would go on to speak with the little ball of light. Doing his best to explain that she was one of many who had been unexpectedly whisked into a Russian blizzard. Most were from places Winston, nor any other ‘earthling’, had ever heard of. Once the sprite was calm, and, not considered a threat. Winston would invite the sprite to a meeting between several otherworldly persons and earthlings to talk about everything together. He let the sprite out of the jar.

He led the sprite to the meeting room… Where all were gathered, or, would be soon enough.

THE MEETING ROOM

Twain was impressed by the way the young lady indulged in her espresso beverage. “Aaaah ya! You’ll fit right in!” He clapped her on the back before going toward the head of the table.

Winston and a ball of light walked in the door next. Twain waited until everyone was settled, then, he began:

“Hellooo everyone! Some of you already know, some of you are just waking up, but I am here to say that you are all part of something really impossible.”

The lights dimmed, and, suspended in the air behind Twain was a glowing image of the wreckage.

“This impossible event brought you all here. To this castle, on a mountain, in Russia, on EARTH!.” He crossed his arms. “Most of you are not from Earth, and if you are, It has been awhile. Yup. That is right folks, time travel!”

He let that sink in while he took a sip of his own coffee.

“You are here because we brought you here. NOT that we just happened upon you by accident. We are a group on Earth that is looking for unusual things. Trust me. You are the most unusual thing that has happened… in… well… EVER. Until now, shenanigans through time and space have been entirely speculative.”

“The way back to your home seems to be closed for the moment. We do not know who opened it, how, or why. We are a bit worried about that last bit. I thought that we should try to put our heads together to figure this thing out.”

“We have got an old Russian castle, some sort of cult ritual, ten confirmed dead earthlings, and numerous deceased… Others. And a dragon. Wherever the hell that came from.” The ones assembled were lucky.

“Zesiro. I think we are going to need more coffee and snacks. As much a you can carry. No, even more than that!”

Herbert

Crumbs and flakes of the croissant stuck to Herbert’s fingertips, so he wiped them off with an unpleasant handkerchief made of soft paper. He looked around the room, at the gathering crowd. That was when the monk entered. Something inside his head clicked. Then it felt as though someone had scraped all his internal organs and squeezed them into his skull, except for his heart, which ached hollow in his chest.

He wasn’t in a hospital. He’d been in denial believing that. However, that meant he had surely gone insane. Can I no longer see the partition between the waking world and the ephemeral nuances of the imagination, of that sleeping world? For what he had experienced was too fantastical to be actuality.

A grey-pink tongue flicked out of his mouth and licked his top lip.

Herbert clenched his stomach and closed his eyes, trying to stop the room from spinning, trying to supress the nausea as everything caught up with him. He rested, hunched against the wall, forehead buried into the nook of his elbow. Half-remembered dreams and memories flashed behind his eyelids.

When the two men in uniform entered, one asinine and the other austere, it barely registered. He licked his lips again.

His starchy collar felt like a noose around his neck. Sweat poured, running down his brow in rivulets, raining from his nose. Everything smelled too strongly; it suffocated him. Blood thundered in his ears to the rhythm of his storming heart. It was all he could hear. The bellows of his lungs puffed air in and out, his chest rising and falling like the piston of a steam engine.

White lights danced across his vision when he opened his eyes. The walls seemed to be closing in on him. The faces, alien and strange were snarling at him, he was certain, twisted by hatred and malevolence. He staggered back into the hallway, away from the room full of people.

Pain crushed his stomach, and his body convulsed. Acid burnt his throat and tasted foul in his mouth. His vomit puddled in the hallway, half dripping down the wall.

Then Herbert collapsed sideways.

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

Mallaidh

The grin did not vanish when Twain clapped her on the back. As much as she was wary of him, comradery was always welcome in a place so strange. In the back of her mind she groaned, and hoped this didn’t mean she’d be expected to drink anymore coffee.

Across the room, she noticed one of the men in crisp uniforms seemed to have trouble in controlling his face. She regarded him with cool, emerald eyes. The slightest of facial alterations conveyed much, so relatively this man was dancing a fíor céili on his lonesome. To be expected; he was a cocky one, whose friend had berated him for such. It caused her to wonder if a “gangbang” was a tradition the Tuath Dé were not supposed to share with outsiders, perhaps a dance also.

She went to rest her hands on the pommels of her axes, but they were missing, so she fumbled with empty space. Knowing she had at least one set of eyes upon her, she turned away to hide her flushed cheeks. She happened to look at Winston entering. She smiled openly at him, and hurried to stand next to him and the floating orb of light at his side, which she was not sure how to react to, but Winston seemed calm enough about it.

“This is more than I could have imagined,” she said. He smiled, and might have said something, but Twain began his speech, and so he closed his mouth and nodded towards the man, a gesture for Mallaidh to watch and listen.

Forces beyond the gods reeked of menace. A cult ritual heavily insinuated the Fomorians, in her mind at least. It unsettled Mallaidh, but forged an iron resolution in her heart; if they wanted help, she would lend it readily. Then she could return with tales of glory, of triumph over evil, and, most importantly, the magic of the gods to cure her mother.

“Doc Tur Twayne, you have my sword,” She said, in the silence that followed, “but how might I put it to use?” She was, of course, sword-less, but she was speaking in metaphors.

Dimitri,

the jovial monk had been eyeing some pastries of his own but he quickly examined what he had in his hands and scrunched his face up before tossing it to the side of the table after seeing Herbert's reaction to the food he had finished eating. Maybe they had poisoned the food? Perhaps they hadn't. Herbert had seemed a bit out of the ordinary since they first met but the older man was one of the only faces the monk recognized in the assembly and once Herbert started acting more peculiar then stumbled out of the room it did not take Dimitri long to rise to his feet and follow after him. He pushed past the man accompanied by a strange glowing ball and as his arm brushed up against the ball of energy he paused for a moment, feeling a strange surge resonate through his arm but he didn't take too much consideration for the moment, quickly brushing past the younger lass standing with them and arriving out in the hallway just in time to see Herbert retching then clamber to the floor.

Herbert was drenched in sweat but he was still breathing, though his breath was raspy and the man seemed feverish. Hopefully he had just fainted but Dimitri was no doctor the monk knelt beside him. "Come one old timer. you didn't make it through that damn blizzard and a fiery dragon just to be taken down by a mere pastry" he commented aloud, shaking the prone form of Herbert gently. Dimitri supposed he could attempt to heal the man, but there were no visible injuries so it was either something internal, or some kind of mental issue, maybe just stressed. The dragon had been no strange sight for Dimitri, nor the harsh environment of those mountains but the towering monk could understand how such things could be overwhelming for someone who was not accustomed to such things. Not to mention all that alk of death and cults it was enough to make anyone cringe.

"Maybe someone should get a doctor of some sort?" he called over his shoulder towards the meeting room.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dayna

It had taken her a while to calm down, but as promised by Winston, once she was reasonably calm, he let her out of the prison. She could feel a familiar energy signature encompassing the whole area, and it was significant. As she hovered slowly behind Winston half listening to him muttering on about Earth again she focused on that energy, and felt some characteristics of water pulsing through it. Dayna suddenly shot past Winston, catching him a bit off guard as she floated up to his eye level forcing the man to stop for a moment.
"Hey Winston, are we near water?" she asked excitedly, "I can feel it but it feels different then what I'm used to.
"As a matter of fact, we are! We're actually under the water!"
this comment puzzled The ball of energy for a moment and her mind flooded with a thousand other questions to ask be she refrained from asking.
"You earth creatures really are quite fascinating!, Being able to be under the water without getting wet! Who would have thought."
"Have you no houses or anything where you come from Dayna?"
"No. I mean I sleep in a cave sometimes but, I guess I never decided that I needed this house thing you speak of. The thought of being separated from how the rains feel or being unable to feel the wind does not sit well with me."
Winston chuckled to himself, This creature was indeed a puzzle. The whole idea of an elemental plane fascinated him.
"Does every element have a distinct feeling to you Dayna?"
"What kind of silly question is that? Of course they do. They all have a unique energy signature."
"I see!" Winston replied
"No, you can not see it. You're a Winston creature." she stated matter of factually. "Not like me, or other Sentenients. I mean you can feel the wetness of the water sure, and the heat from the flames. You can even feel the wind as it caresses your face, but you can not actually feel its true nature.
"That's not what I meant" he added flatly with a sigh.
"Well maybe you should be more specific with what you mean! Your language seems so guttural at times."
The two proceeded to the meeting in silence, but Winston could not help smiling to himself.

There were all sorts of other creatures gathered at the meeting, most looking similar to Winston's species some more slender and curvy. Their energies varied quite a lot though and several were consuming things as they waited. It was safe to say Dayna felt a bit flustered when the others took notice of her. she could see that she was one of the strangest beings gathered there after all.

A slender looking version of Winston's species moved over to him once they entered the room, and Dayna looked at the new comer curiously; slowly spiraling around her.
"Why do you have humps and bumps and curves where Winston does not?" she asked Mallaidh, altering her form slightly so that a portion of it slowly extended towards Mallaidh's chest. "They are kind of small, but they are there none the less and they look strangely firm. He is even flatter in that area though. How fascinating" she finished.

The one called Twain briefed them all of what had happened, but soon after the meeting commenced two of the others suddenly left. A feeble looking hunched over one, and a towering giant who rudely pushed past her.

Wolfe couldn't believe his eyes, actual sentient non humans, here with him now. It was as if he stepped into the weirdest mashup sci fi flick. Like some of the tv shows he'd watch as a kid. When a man came in, who's name was Twain, Wolfe half expect to hear about the Stargate project, though that fantasy was quickly snuffed.
As it turned out, the multiverse theory was true, and, if that meant there were separate universes interconnected, then some form of time travel is also possible, thus proving time is shperical, not linear. However, ending up in the proper universe, at the right time is the trick. Apparently Wolfe, and Hirsch both hit that lottery, not so much for most of the people in this room.
Wolfe looked over at Hirsch, he was making googly eyes at a young, tough looking red head, Wolfe punched him in the arm.

"Pay attention you walking penis."

The brief continued.

Wolfe began to get a slight feeling in his gut, he surveyed the room, eyes settling on an old man, who looked a bit flush, he was breathing heavily, and kept placing a hand over his chest.

As soon as the brief had concluded, Wolfe was going to ask a question, when the old man staggered up and out of the conference room.
Wolfe gut twitched, a man in a hooded cloak followed.

Wolfe sat a few more moments before getting up and heading to the door to check the situation, when the hooded man called out.

"Maybe someone should get a doctor of some sort?"

Wolfe took off out the door, Hirsch followed sensing his team leaders urgency.

Wolfe and Hirsch arrived outside to see the old man on the floor, he looked severly ill. More people began to show up.

"Hirsch let's get him to an infirmary, chair carry," Wolfe said.
"Roger that," Hirsch said.

The sat the old man up, both Hirsch and Wolfe interlocked arms behind the man, on his back, and under his legs, creating a chair of arms. They stood up, Wolfe looked to the hooded man. Wolfe took the lead and headed toward where he had woken up.

"Don't worry gramps," Hirsch said. "We'll get ya fixed up in time for Matlock."

Ariel awoke with a yawn and a stretch before looking around. Then it hit her. Where was she? What happened to her? The last thing she could remember was riding her bike before... something... What happened? She looked down to see herself in a hospital-like gown. In a swift moment, she pulled it off and shifted, thinking whoever had brought her here would be confused to find a husky instead of their patient, especially an angry one. As soon at the door opened, though, she growled, barked and ran, hoping to make a break for it. She didn't know where she was or what had happened but she wasn't going to stay and let them test on her. She ran until she escaped or was caught.

If she were to escape, she would try to find someone to hide behind, not trusting the people from the building.

If she was caught, she would growl and bark, trying to get free. She wanted to change back but not while she was still naked. She needed her clothes.

The Infirmary Room just next to the Conference Room.

Herbert walked away… And dropped. The two military men and the monk quickly rose to assist the aged member of the meeting.

Twain, who was in fact a medical doctor, rolled his eyes and followed. “Too much excitement? Remind me not to invite you to the after-party 'eeeerb.”

Approaching the patient, Twain whistled and cracked his knuckles. He placed his hand on Herbert's face, over his eyes.

“Everything is going to be aye-oh--....”

Twain frowned. It was likely the first frown anyone had seen upon his face thus far.

Herbert was cold to the touch. Those watching closely would soon see frost begin to form on the tips of his silver hair and the arch of his brow.

“... Oh.”

Herbert, wherever the hell he is.

Herbert would feel cold… Yet, not cold. Is there a word for the temperature zone between ‘absolute zero’ and ‘regular zero’? Cold just doesn't quite cut it...

Anyway, he was somewhere cold, and foggy, and wet. There was water flowing around his ankles as if he were standing in a river. Yet, he couldn’t see the bank through the fog, and though the water was extremely shallow here the current had a strong and terrible pull upon his soul…


The Conference Room

Rozalind remained seated as the doctor went to work. Without thinking she touched her bandaged arm in a protective reflex.

She decided to answer Mallaidh, still holding her arm. “We ask that you, all of you, join us. We call ourselves TRIDENT. It is our task to handle these sorts of problems. You may not now know how this has happened or why this has happened to you. Yet, you are each an important piece of this puzzle. You also all have relevant and useful skills to contribute to the team. TRIDENT is always looking to recruit who have specialized skills and experience.”

The ball of light remarked upon the young girls… curves. Rozalind smiled just a little, and did not answer the question. She thought it would be much more amusing to allow Winston to fumble through this question.

Ariel’s room. Elsewhere.

Ariel would find that… There was nowhere to go. Her room attached to a hallway, with similar rooms that were either empty or locked. Not at first anyway… There were only about six rooms, three of which were open and empty and three of which were locked and without a window to peer through. The entire space was not very big. She also didn’t see much in the way of people either… Not at first...

Eventually a door would open. And two people entered the hall.

One was a tall muscular man, he was covered in intricate tattoos.

The other was a smaller girl. Perhaps a teenager, slight of form, dark of s She was wearing a green T-shirt and jeans, green high tops.

She held up a hand, the man crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. He was, however, not relaxed. He was waiting.

The girl walked slowly toward the husky, but, she stopped in the middle of the corridor. She sat down, cross legged, letting her hands sit loose upon her knees.

“Hi. I am Dzel. Can you understand what I am saying?” She said it loud enough so that the husky could hear her from whatever room it might be in at that moment, but her tone was even and neutral.

Ariel looked at the girl curiously before approaching slowly. She sniffed at her hand before looking at the man with a growl. She stood with the girl, Dzel was her name, between herself and the man. It was obvious she wasn't going to trust him. She ran back to the room she'd woke up in before shifting back. "Where are my clothes?" she asked, peeking out. "And get him to go away." In both forms, she had the same blue eyes. "Dzel, you said? You can stay and tell me where I am, where's my bike and what's going on." She disappeared back in the room to sit on the bed, frowning.

"I'm unsure if your own cloths needed cleaning or were destroyed. For now, there should be cloths for you laid out. If they forgot, check in the cupboard."

If Ariel looked she would find pajama pants and a soft shirt, undergarments, socks, and simple slip-on-shoes that would more or less fit her.

Dzel would wait in the hall still, and when Ariel returned she would not see the man. Apparently he was gone, as Ariel had requested.

The girl was patient, she was small but she had the presence of a mountain. It seemed as though she would sit for eons if needed, so long and so still that moss and trees would grow upon her slopes, shrivel and frost in the winter, bloom in the spring, for as many years as necessary before the wolf felt safe to emerge from the den. Ariel might feel akin to the grounded girl. She was touched by earth-magic, and, she too could transform. Though, when the change came upon Dzel she did not become an animal...

"You are on a planet called Earth." Dzel began to explain. "Do you know it? What is the name of your home?"

Ariel found the clothes easily enough and dressed quickly. "I'll find my clothes later. I'm not losing that jacket again." Upon seeing the man was gone, Ariel visibly relaxed. She leaned against the wall and slid down it slowly until she was sitting. As she heard Dzel share some information, she took the time to look her over. "I'm from Earth." she shrugged. "Maybe not this Earth but from an Earth." She slid her hands behind her head as she eyed Dzel again. "So, why am I here? And where's everyone else? Surely there's more pretty girls like you around somewhere."

"Yes... There are others..." Her face remained neutral. It was difficult to say if the flirtation was lost upon Dzel, or, if she merely feigned ignorance to make her response mysterious or ambiguous.

Dzel cocked her head to one side, listening to the Ariel. She would certainly question Ariel more later much as she had with other survivors from 'earth' to determine if they were from 'this earth' or 'another. The fact that Areiel had suggested it fist made Dzel wonder.

"Do you remember what happened to you?"

XIII raised his eyebrows when Twain informed them that there were people here that weren't from Earth. He felt somewhat safer than he was moments ago, but he was still cautious. He took a drink from his coffee and looked around the room. XIII noticed that the old man looked like he was having a panic attack. Soon after, he left, puked in the hallway, and passed out. Twain and a few others left to go help the man, XIII included. When the man was placed on a bed, XIII watched as Twain laid his hand over the man's face, and leaned in when Twain frowned and stopped talking.

When XIII saw the frost forming on the old man, he frowned. He stepped forward and laid the back of his hand on the man's forehead, and pulled it back quickly when he felt how cold he was. XIII grabbed a nearby chair and sat down right by the bed. He leaned forward held his hands out as if he was trying to heat himself up by a fire. Slowly, the air around the Twain and old man started to heat up. Rising gently until it was nearly uncomfortably warm, but not warm enough to cause harm.

"I remember riding my bike with my friend who's like a little brother to me, then I saw something strange in the distance so I told him to head on to the job and I'd meet up with him later. Next thing I remember, I'm waking up in here, practically naked." She looked her over with a frown. "He must be worried about me." She closed her eyes, leaning her head back. "I don't remember much else of importance. I remember something vaguely about a portal or rift or something but I know nothing else about that." She hit the wall before standing. "Alright, I'll make this simple. I want my clothes. You know this area, you can at least point out likely spots for me to check."

Ariel

Dzel tilted her head slowly toward the other direction as Ariel spoke.

"Like I said... I'm not sure if your jacket survived the incident if it has, it will be returned to you soon." Dzels voice was even and without judgment of the girl.

"You remember yourself as riding your bike, in your old life, in the way things used to be. However, we found you unconscious and nearly dead. We found you among many, many of whom did not make it through, many who seemed to come from nowhere, yet came from everywhere."

Dzel shook her head, she did not like speaking in riddles, though it seemed in her nature. That is why she often chose not to speak instead.

"I am not good at explaining things. If you wish... We are holding a meeting between you and others that were found at the site of the incident. Would you join me?" Dzel held out a hand toward Ariel, a gesture of good will and welcome. Her green eyes shifted from hues of emerald, to moss, to mustard greens, and back again...

~~~

Herberts infirmary

Twain looked up at XIII in alarm. "Woah cool down there champ... Herbert isn't suffering from Hypothermia... he's in death! Well, he isn't dead, yet." His lips slowly curled back into a smile. "You know what? Forget what I said. Keep the heat on, brotha!"

Twain put one hand on XII's ever-warmer wrist. "Our grandpa here, Herbert, he is \ elsewhere whilst he is here. The place that he is... it is the coldest damn place you will ever experience. Trust me, eventually you will experience it. However, unlike the 99.999% he can come back from it and into warmer weather... If we are careful and if we are clever! You keep up with that disco-inferno, burn bay-be-burn! Your going to be the light at the end of the tunnel."

Twain didn't let go of XIII and kept his hand over Herbert's eyes. He closed his own. XIII would feel Twain become cold... yet... not so cold as Herbert...

As Vata was drinking his coffee, lights in the room suddenly dimmed, from some unknown cause. The technology here was unlike anything he had ever seen, and he wished he could have lights that did not drip wax or risk burning things when he was in his own world. Twain began speaking, summarizing many of the things Vata already knew, that is, they were stuck on this world, and that what dragged them all here was bizarre to say the least. Behind Twain was a glowing image of what he could only assume to be the wrecked castle that Twain's team had saved them from. After Twain finished briefing them on what had happened at the castle and their current situation, he suggested that they work together to find a way home, but before Vata could respond, he was distracted by the conversation between a strange being of light and a man he didn't recognize. When the strange light thing described, and asked about the differences in appearance between a man that entered the room a moment ago and a girl that he didn't recognize, Vata stifled a laugh. It was apparent that the ball of light had never encountered humans before, but somehow it was able to speak the same language as them. It reminded him of the way the Spirits could appear to people, although they typically manifested themselves in the shape of something, such as an animal, instead of as an amorphous ball of light. The being intrigued him, and he could feel a faint acknowledgement from the Spirit of Inspiration expressing a similar interest, but then his attention was diverted back to another person speaking in the room.

A woman requested that they join the organization that she, and Twain were a part of. They called it "trident," a name he found odd. What was a trident, and what significance did it bear to the group? Vata pushed that question to the side, it could come later, as this presented the best opportunity of finding a way back home. Putting down his cup of coffee, he answered the woman's request.

"I would gladly offer to help your organization, even if we do not succeed in finding a way back to our own worlds. While I don't know what sort of special skills I have to offer that would help in your endeavors, the very least I can do to repay your assistance is to offer my own."