mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2014-11-24 08:21 am

[sticky entry] Sticky: TIMELINE INDEX

Out of the OOC journals associated with my various RP attempts and the whole Mosaic project, this journal is meant to be a catchbin for IC content that isn't active RP and ends up stuck up out of order. Basically a place to put fics, attempts to archive stuff from LJ or GJ that couldn't be imported, and so on.

This journal could also be used for anything that would be out of chronological order if I put them somewhere else (like redos or backups of GreatestJournal stuff, or if I just drop the Timey Wimey ball somewhere), or the occasional off-the-main-nexus scene (Though if those are chronologically stable I should try to remember [community profile] the_wily_wars, at least if the Wilybots are involved in any way).

One of the other OOC journals, [personal profile] wilywars_reference, will be for actual OOC reference content such as character profiles and timelines.

The third, [personal profile] puppettheatre, has been repurposed to a meta musebox and place for general backstage plotting.

The memories section of this journal contains a huge dump of links sorted by RL date. They're divided up into:
"Everything-Canon Or Not" - which is just what it sounds like. Every link associated with any of my RP charas that I can find. May also include links to stuff that just has charas my charas associated with that I'd like to keep track of.
"Fics Only" - again what it sounds like.
"Incomplete" - to track RP threads that don't seem finished until they're either done, never finish and considered scratched because they didn't go far enough to matter (like posts with no replies), or are just moved on from for whatever reason.
"Scratchbin" - stuff that isn't really canon anymore for some reason or was meta to start with, like all the early memes.
"Timeline" - which is the stuff that is at least still partly canon, but it'll be sorted by RL date here. This is mostly to make it easier for me to find the posts to add them to the timeline pages, and for most reasons it will really be better to go look at the timeline pages on [personal profile] mosaic_archive instead.

If I ever make dolls of the characters, pictures might be found at [personal profile] playscaletheater, and if any video media is in the public domain it should eventually be up on [personal profile] vintage_viewings.

Also, there have been various "Nexus" comms over the years, starting on Livejournal and briefly on the long-defunct Greatestjournal. The current one (for me at least) is at [community profile] reality_crossroads, with the corresponding OOC comm at [community profile] reality_crossroads_ooc. I have no idea where everyone else went. The Wilybots also have a very-seldom used comm for the area around their warehouse or events in their world, which is at [community profile] the_wily_wars
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2019-04-27 02:15 pm
Entry tags:

2+2=3+1

For one of them, the world had devolved into waves of pain and voices telling her when to push. For the other, it was a chance to keep an eye on the room, because she had a bad feeling something wasn't right. And this time, Evelyn knew, the bad feeling that something would go wrong with this pregnancy was not coming from Eve.

That was a new thing, since Eve had been the one to panic from the start. Evelyn had been terrified of telling their father, sure, but Eve? She'd been absolutely convinced that if they didn't flee - leave behind school, their family, and that goofball she'd let get them knocked up - that they, the baby, and that irritating joker would all end up dead. She hadn't even been able to explain why, just saying she couldn't remember. Which irritated Evelyn because she knew it wasn't a memory she was keeping from Eve, and there were only the two of them in here.

Cleaning out all the savings she had in the bank and running away, age seventeen and pregnant, was a stupid idea. But in the end, Eve's sheer terror had won the argument. After months of cheap motels, ultrasounds at free clinics where workers sighed sadly when she insisted she was keeping the baby, arguments about names, and a little disappointment that they weren't having twins, they were finally at the end of this. Evelyn felt she had some small measure of revenge when she insisted that, since Eve had been the one to get them pregnant, the labor pains were all her problem.

She'd thought, once the baby was born, Eve would calm down and they could go home. But now, listening to the whispers that Eve was in no condition to notice, she was starting to think the other personality in her mind had been right. At least, in regards to something horrible being about to happen.

The whispers about their age weren't a surprise. The ones about the refusal to mention family. Questioning if they were a runaway, if they'd gotten pregnant due to prostitution. Let other people think what they wanted. Eve was the sensitive one, the weak one, not her. She wasn't listening to those idiots. The whispers that worried Evelyn were the ones they clearly thought Eve was too out of it to hear. They were right about that, but so wrong to think she was going to let them get away with what she thought they were planning. She hadn't waddled around like a duck for the last few months to have someone steal and sell their baby girl.

She needed to outsmart them. No, she needed to be ready to fight. She didn't know which would get them out of this. She needed to think, and there wasn't time... She couldn't focus, couldn't decide on a plan. She needed someone to help her. And she heard the baby cry.

And suddenly everything went clear again. Screw thinking, she needed to act!

Look out! They're going to drug us! came a shout in her mind.

We've had enough of that, Evelyn snarled back, glad now for whatever fit of paranoia had made Eve refuse most of the medications earlier. Her hand lashed out to punch the nurse.

That one has Duela!

Evelyn only registered a blur in scrubs heading for the door. She was too busy putting the room into shock. None of them expected a teenage girl who'd just given birth, and technically wasn't done yet, to move any great deal. Much less punch a nurse, and then spring up to grab the woman and a scalpel from a nearby tray, and hold the latter to the throat of the former. "Freeze, or I'll slit this bitch's throat," Evelyn growled. And she knew she would, if it came to that. Unthinkable only minutes ago, natural now.

"Bring her back over here," she heard herself say a second later, but it wasn't Eve. She didn't have time for that, because she saw the nurse shift their hold on the needle they still held. She pressed the scalpel into the woman's neck enough to draw a warning trickle of blood. "Don't" She was about to tell her to drop it, but someone else had another idea.

"Hand that to me very slowly. It's ok, Duela, don't cry. Aunt Evie's got a plan..." Right hand still holding the blade to her hostage's throat, her left took the syringe from them.

Your plan better be good. The best I've got is to kill anyone in our way, and I can't figure out how to do that and carry Duela. Eve?

I'm... it's up to the two of you... I'll do what I can...

I can think our way out of this, if you can fight. Eve's making sure we don't feel anything, and trying to keep us from passing out, but we still have to make this fast... Here's what we need to do.
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2019-04-21 05:08 pm

Descent pt 5: It's Not Delivery, It's Da Maxies!

X was prone to nightmares... disturbing recollections from his time at Omicron that would usually fade away once he was fully awake. He didn't often wake quickly, though, and more than once had knocked his small shack down on top of himself during one of his usual fitful naps. The pack of Junkions he associated with generally made wide detours around his small dwelling when it sounded as though he was having a bad dream.

He never learned just why Froggy decided to break that unwritten rule... Perhaps it was concern that prompted her to sneak in that day... perhaps it was something more. She loved him... it was an emotion he still barely understood, and he wasn't certain how to react to it.

He'd been having a particularly bad nightmare that time. Jerking awake at the slightest physical contact, he'd grabbed at whatever was nearest, unaware of his surroundings but intent on tearing something apart.

As usual it was his empathic sense that snapped him out of it, and he stood in the once-again wrecked dwelling, staring horrified as Froggy slipped into stasis. Alerted to the commotion, the others were heading their way.

"Stop in the name of all which does not suck!" Dude said, horrified.

X put Froggy on the ground and backed away, disturbed even more than the others at his own actions. And especially at what he had sensed from Froggy... the sense of confusion, of disbelief and betrayal that was still painfully familiar from his first day at Omicron.

Angelcake knelt down to check on Froggy, and to start repairs with the innate skill at such matters that all the Junkions seemed to have.

The little femme was already starting to regain consciousness. "Hello to the pain," she said dazedly, looking around.

"The pain is not a friend," Angelcake told her, helping to repair the damage.

Concerned, and still shaken by what he'd done, X tried to get closer...

Angelcake frowned at him and lifted her axe slightly in warning. "You may be immortal but I can still do damage," she growled at him. "How'd you like to spend eternity in five pieces?"

Froggy placed a restraining hand on the other femme's arm and shook her head no. She moved carefully over to X and looked up at him a bit sadly. "...and as they both sink beneath the waves, the Frog cries out, 'Why did you sting me, Mr. Scorpion? For now we both will drown!' Scorpion replies, 'I can't help it. It's in my nature.'"

Somehow, she understood. And in that moment, so did he. He hadn't meant to attack her, but he hadn't been able to stop himself either. And though he could tell Froggy had only meant to say that she didn't blame him for his actions, her words held a darker meaning for him.

If this sort of behavior was something over which he would never have any control... if it was part of his nature...

A hand on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts, but luckily he was able to keep himself from doing anything violent... this time at least.

Dude was just shaking his head a bit sadly. The thin mech patted X on the shoulder again. "Charlie, two words: therapy."

Poet said nothing, as usual, instead just quietly observing. He seemed sad as though he knew something had been changed by that morning's events.

"So once again, we find that evil of the past seeps into the present like salad dressing through cheap wax paper," Priest muttered quietly, almost to himself.

Froggy shuffled her feet self-consciously. The tiny femme was already completely repaired, but X knew that would make no difference as to his decision.

"I have to leave," he told them, turning his back on the others and heading for where his ship had been hidden.

Dude's shocked voice was the first one he heard, as the others began to follow after him. "I think I speak for everyone here when I say... huh??"

X ignored them and began to toss pieces of debris away, uncovering the ship as quickly as he could. He didn't want to have to think about what he was doing, what he felt he had to do. If he thought about it, he might change his mind, and he couldn't risk that... for their sakes. He was about to board the ship when he suddenly felt something grab his leg. He looked down with a snarl to see Froggy.

"Don't go..."

He stared at her for a moment, disbelieving. Even after what had happened, she still wanted him to stay? He forced the too-tempting thought away, reaching down to attempt to get Froggy to let go without harming her again. There had to be some way he could make her understand... it was just too dangerous.

But he could tell just from looking at her that there was no way to make her understand this. That even though he had learned this lesson from her, she somehow lacked the ability to grasp it herself.

Angelcake interrupted them, looking up from a rigged-together communications panel. "We have just gotten a wake-up call from the Nintendo Generation."

X looked over. "Maximals?"

"Got it in one, this doesn't look fun..," Poet commented, looking over the board.

"Danger? I laugh in the face of danger!" Froggy said, temporarily distracted from her attempts to restrain X. "...and then I hide until it goes away."

A ship was landing the next clearing over, with only the most brief of greetings over a com-channel and no wait for permission to land. Apparently good manners was not something on the mind of the pilot.

The rest of the Junkions, as well as X and Poet, stayed under cover, while Dude and Angelcake went out to see what the Maximals wanted.

"Nobody panic. This is all just a big mistake," Dude said, trying to reassure the others, as he and Angel left.

Angel glared at the two Maximals who exited the small scout ship. "Excuse me. Who gave you permission to exist?"

Dude placed a restraining hand on her arm, and, in an attempt to maintain a shred of civility, asked "What are your names? Neil and Bob, or is that, like, what you do?"

They're here for me, X thought... he could feel the truth of that in their minds. They hadn't been told what he was, but they had been paid to track him down. And he knew he had even more of a reason to leave now than he had before. As long as he stayed here, they would never be safe... not only from him, but also from the Maximals, who were still searching for him.

Although he and the others were hidden a bit too far away to hear the rest of conversation in the valley below, he could still see when it began to turn violent. The Maximals had no patience for the Junkion's TV-Talk... or for the run-around answers they were getting. Finally, one of them tried to shove Angel around, only to receive a warning whap from the flat of her axe.

As the fallen Maximal stood back up, rubbing the side of his head, he and his partner both got out weapons.

From where they were watching, Cowboy and Priest exchanged glances.

"We're goin in," Cowboy said.

"I'll cover you."

"I'd be safer if you didn't."

"Fine! I won't cover you."

"All right, cover me."

"You want me to cover you or not?"

"I need you to cover me."

"Fine. I'll cover you."

X started to leave cover as well, but Poet motioned for him to stay where he was. He understood why, once again without having to be told. The Maximals were looking for him. So, of course, they couldn't be allowed to see him there.

"Unless, perhaps... they see me leaving..," X said quietly to Poet.

Poet frowned slightly. He didn't bother again to put his thoughts into the rhymes his unusual speech problem forced him to use, instead knowing by now that X would be able to read his thoughts... that while seeing X leave Junk would likely keep the Maximals from returning to search for him, they would also know he had been here, and be able to follow him... How would he stay safe, alone...

"That doesn't matter..," X said, backing down the slope towards where his ship was waiting. A sudden weight in his tank kibble made him stop short. "Frog... not now, please..."

The girl didn't answer, refusing to budge from her odd perch. X's attempts to remove her were as futile as ever. She leaned over his shoulder again to wave a small portable TV in his face.

All packed, he found himself thinking. Have TV, will travel... "Froggy... no... You can't come with me..." The little femme ducked back down, but the weight in his kibble remained stubbornly in place. X glanced back to Poet, who was watching the scuffle in the next valley with a look of growing concern. The fight was moving steadily closer... although the Maximals were outnumbered, they were better trained than the Junkions were. Junkion fighting techniques tended to rely on sheer numbers, and their near-indestructibility.

But, as X had learned during his stay here, there were fewer Junkions now than there once were. And those that were left wandered Junk in groups like the ones he had fallen in with... no longer acting as a unified force when there was an invader on their world. Their last leader had died rescuing prisoners from the Maximals... including Poet, and a few others whom X had heard of in passing but never met.

Any moment now the Maximals would be over the junk-pile ridge and they would be able to see both him and the ship. He tried again to remove Froggy, without much success. "Froggy, get down. I mean it." He reached for the hatch controls, but even as the door slid open he could tell Frog still had no intention of budging from her perch. Instead, he thought he heard her begin to hum the theme from "2001: A Space Odyssey".

He looked back to see the Maximals looking down into the valley. Nearby, Angel was shifting her axe's weight wishing for another strike, and Cowboy was reattaching an arm. Both were being held at gunpoint. There was no sign of Priest or Dude. "Froggy. Down. Now," he said, as quietly as he could manage. "There's no more time..."

"I'm sorry, Dave, I can't do that..."

"Hold it right there, X!"

X scowled at the Maximal. "Or...?" There wasn't a choice... It looked like Froggy was going to get her way in this after all. X started to back into the ship hatch. If the Maximals saw him leave, surely they'd follow... and leave everyone else alone...

As soon as they saw him move, they opened fire. X fell to his knees, but found himself laughing. Yes, there was pain, but he'd felt far worse... This was meant to bother him? So what if some of the blasts went clear through him... he'd heal in a matter of seconds.

"What's the matter, Maximals...? Scared of something?" He taunted as shocked expressions crossed their faces when they saw the injuries heal up. Even now, their fear was amusing... But then he sensed something worse. Or rather, could no longer sense something that had been there a moment before. The weight in his kibble, almost familiar enough to be temporarily forgotten, had shifted. Yes, the blasts had gone right through him. And Junkions, although nearly indestructible, were not immortal...

Switching their aim to X had proved a fatal mistake for the Maximals. X looked up, feeling frozen at the thought of what must have happened to Froggy, as Angelcake brought her axe down on the head of one of the Maximals, chopping him almost completely in two. Dude had apparently recovered, and was helping Cowboy dismantle the other one.... Priest had made it over the ridge, helping a limping Poet, whom he'd likely been trying to repair.

X still didn't move. Not even when Angel came over and removed Froggy from his kibble. The tiny green and copper femme had half of her chest missing from a blast. Random thoughts seemed to drift through X's mind, as though his grip on the situation was a shaky one at best... and most disturbing of all was how Angel hadn't immediately started to repair Froggy...

He barely felt himself stand up. He was completely healed. Had he really started to think that they were that much like him? He backed into the hatch in a daze, watching the door shut and trying to make sense of what had just happened... but he couldn't.

Death was certainly not unfamiliar to him... but this was. Aren't I supposed to cry?, he thought detachedly. On TV they always cry... The strange numbness persisted, as he set the autopilot controls... and as Junk faded into the distance he had the strangest thought that perhaps he hadn't yet woken from the nightmare he'd had that morning. That the whole day had been just a part of it, and that soon, perhaps, he would wake to find he'd knocked the roof down on himself again... and when he moved it aside, Froggy would be there with her mischievous unrepentant grin. Give the Frog a kiss...


Legal stuff: All characters in this story are the trademarks and/or copyrights of their respective holders, except for those that aren't. Any resemblance to anyone who actually exists is coincidental (and pretty darn amazing), etc., etc. It's just a fanfic, guys.

JUNKION QUOTE LIST:

Dude - "Stop in the name of all which does not suck." - Butt-head, Beavis and Butt-head

Froggy - "Hello to the pain." - Buffy, Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Angelcake - "The pain is not a friend." - Willow, Buffy The Vampire Slayer.

Angelcake - "You may be immortal but I can still do damage. How'd you like to spend eternity in 5 pieces?" Xena, Xena: Warrior Princess

Froggy - "...and as they both sink beneath the waves, the frog cries out, "Why did you sting me, Mr. Scorpion? For now we both will drown!" Scorpion replies, "I can't help it. It's in my nature."" - Jody, The Crying Game

Dude - "Charlie, two words: therapy." Tony Giardino, So I Married an Axe Murderer

Priest - "So once again, we find that evil of the past seeps into the present like salad dressing through cheap wax paper, mixing memory and desire." - Tick, The Tick

Dude - "I think I speak for everyone here when I say... huh??" - Buffy Summers, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Froggy - "Don't go." - the little girl, Three Fugitives

Angelcake - "We have just gotten a wake-up call from the Nintendo Generation." Cereal Killer, Hackers

Froggy - "Danger? I laugh in the face of danger!...and then I hide until it goes away." - Xander, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Dude - "Nobody panic. This is all just a big mistake." - Chris Parker, Adventures In Babysitting

Angelcake - "Excuse me. Who gave you permission to exist?" - Cordelia Chase, Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Dude - "What are your names? Neil and Bob, or is that, like, what you do?" Ford Fairlane, Ford Fairlane

Cowboy and Priest - "We're goin' in." "I'll cover you." etc. - Lloyd Gallagher and Tom Beck, The Hidden

Froggy - "I'm sorry, Dave, I can't do that." - HAL, 2001: A Space Odyssey

X/Rampage - "What's the matter... scared of something?" - a bit of a paraphrase on Helen's last line in Candyman.

For those of you who never figured it out... Yes, 'Poet' there is Wheelie.
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2019-04-21 04:38 pm

Descent pt 4: Turn Up The Volume (And Yank Off The Knob)

It had been months since his arrival on Junk. The ship he'd arrived in had been hidden under one of the many piles of miscellanea, and another rigged-together dwelling had joined the circle around the clearing.

"Going native" on Junk wasn't that difficult. The hardest part was learning to guess the television quotes they spoke in enough to carry on a conversation. And since the days, and most of the nights, were spent watching television, even that wasn't too difficult. 'Intermission' periods during random times were spent having strange conversations, playing pranks on each other, occasional food-fights, and sometimes a nap.

The Junkions were remarkably accepting... the small pack he stayed with had barely reacted when they'd first seen how quickly he recovered from injuries. Of course, they did have their own abilities where that was concerned.

There were six others in the clearing, altogether.

Dude, the mech he'd met when he'd first arrived, who usually quoted from movies containing a large amount of surfer slang.

Priest, who was sometimes even more difficult to understand than the other Junkions, often quoting things that were more than a bit philosophical.

Angelcake, a sarcastic femme who tended to carry a large axe everywhere.

Cowboy, who seemed to be involved in an on-again, off-again relationship with Angel, and who quoted mostly from action movies and westerns.

Poet, who had turned out not to be a true Junkion, but another Cybertronian in hiding... and who spoke in strange rhymes instead of the TV-speech the others used.

And the smallest of the bunch was the tiny green and brown femme. Barely five feet tall, with an unusual jumping ability and a habit of jokingly insisting on being kissed, she was known as Froggy.

After the first few months, he'd told them about Omicron. Although they were shocked, they hadn't been judgmental about that either... Angelcake had even made a few suggestions involving Maximals and her axe, and Poet's scowl at the mentions of what the Maximals were capable of said far more than his odd rhymes ever could.

The last string of movies had just ended, and X made his way over to the others to find they were discussing the Maximals again.

"Doctor, can you give the Court your impression of the Maximal Council?" Angelcake was asking Priest.

"I'm sorry, I don't do impressions, my training is in psychiatry."

"Well, every school has 'em," Cowboy commented. "See, you start a new school, you get your desks, some blackboards, and some mean kids."

"Help! Help! I'm being repressed! Come see the violence inherent in the system! Violence inherent in the system!" Froggy quipped, on her back with her hands up as though warding off a beating.

Though the topic was serious, even X couldn't help chuckling at Froggy's antics. "I expect there are a lot of cover-ups as well," he asked after a moment, cautiously... curious as to what else the Council might have done.

The various Junkions nodded. Cowboy mimicked sorting through a filing cabinet. "Let's see... proof that aliens exist... ah... where Hoffa's buried... Hmm. Another Pamela Lee video... where the rest of Hoffa's buried..."

"Why don't the Predacons fight back?"

"No one lives in the slums because they want to," Angelcake said.

"And nobody does anything?"

"You learn how to close your eyes and tell yourself that this just isn't happening to me," Dude replied.

"Fear accompanies the possibility of death. Calm shepherds its certainty," Angelcake said.

"Most people hide from their fears. We call them cowards, but they tend to outlive the brave," Priest added.

Cowboy nodded in agreement. "Quite an experience to live in fear, isn't it? That's what it is to be a slave."

"That's something I understand all too well..," X said, getting up and looking away from the others.

A second later something landed heavily on his shoulders... his attempts to dislodge whatever it was didn't work, as slowly an upside-down face lowered into his field of vision. It was Froggy, leaning over his head, with a concerned expression. He scowled at her.

"I just want you to know that I'm here for you," she said, ignoring the scowl. "And if you want a hug, I'd be happy to give you one."

X sat back down, trying not to snicker. How could any creature possibly be so... cute. "Could someone please get her off me?"

Dude removed Froggy from her perch in X's tank kibble. The little femme just grinned unrepentantly.

As soon as she was put down, Froggy sprinted over and flung herself across X's lap. She grinned up at him. "Give the frog a kiss."

Everyone, including X, laughed as he pushed her off his lap.

Priest looked upward. "Let us not leap to judgment, dear Lord. But, if it appeareth that my fellow police person haveth an unnatural affaire with her tank, forgive her. Amen."

In short, it was a wonderful life. He would have been content to stay there forever, and they would have probably let him. Especially Froggy...

How ironic that it all ended with her...


Legal stuff: All characters in this story are the trademarks and/or copyrights of their respective holders, except for those that aren't. Any resemblance to anyone who actually exists is coincidental (and pretty darn amazing), etc., etc. It's just a fanfic, guys.

JUNKION QUOTE LIST:

Angelcake and Priest: "Doctor, can you give the Court your impression of Mr. Striker?" "I'm sorry, I don't do impressions, my training is in psychiatry." Prosecuting Attorney, Dr. Stone, from Airplane2 (yes, the line is fudged a bit, but no more so than Junkions do every now and then)

Cowboy - "Well, every school has 'em. See, you start a new school, you get your desks, some blackboards, and some mean kids." 'Xander', Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Froggy - "Help! Help! I'm being repressed! Come see the violence inherent in the system! Violence inherent in the system!" Dennis, Monty Python

Cowboy - "Let's see... proof that aliens exist... ah... where Hoffa's buried... Hmm. Another Pamela Lee video... where the rest of Hoffa's buried..." Michael Wiseman, Now and Again

Angelcake - "No one lives in the slums because they want to." - Cloud Strife, FF7

Dude - "You learn how to close your eyes and tell yourself that this just isn't happening to me." Tick, the Tick

Angelcake - "Fear accompanies the possibility of death. Calm shepherds its certainty." - General Ka D'Argo, Farscape

Priest - "Most people hide from their fears. We call them cowards, but they tend to outlive the brave." Julian Priest, The Hunger

Cowboy - "Quite an experience to live in fear, isn't it? That's what it is to be a slave." - Roy Batty, Bladerunner

Froggy - "I just want you to know that I'm here for you. And if you want a hug, I'd be happy to give you one." Kellerman, Homicide: Life on the Street

Froggy - "Give the frog a kiss." Professor Sharp, BIONIC 6

Priest - "Let us not leap to judgment, dear Lord. But, if it appeareth that my fellow police person haveth an unnatural affaire with her tank, forgive her. Amen." Chaplain, Dominion: Tank Police IV
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2019-04-21 02:53 pm

Descent pt 3: Don't Touch That Dial

X watched the controls as the ship's autopilot began the landing sequence. There had been no communication from the planet below... but there had also been no attempt to stop him. He had long since parted company with the strange Cybertronian who had helped him get the ship he was now in, and who had also told him of this place. The natives of this strange planetoid were supposedly similar enough to Cybertronians to where he wouldn't be readily obvious in a crowd and might hide among them undiscovered.

Although these people had once been on friendly terms with the Autobots, he had been told that they were no friends of the Maximal Council, and their world was known in a few very select circles as a safe place for any Cybertronian who needed to disappear for a while.

No one came to greet the ship, but as the hatchway opened and X peered out at the cluttered landscape he caught a trace of the emotions of the inhabitants.

Fear... A crowd of minds nearby, just out of sight... all terrified.

And yet there was something odd about their terror. It was laced throughout with something else... a sense of amusement, as though whatever frightened them was also strangely entertaining. As though they knew whatever it was could not really harm them.

He left the ship cautiously and crept closer, curious as to what he might find, but wary. Soon he could hear the sounds of voices.

"What's that sound?" someone asked.

X realized he could hear a faint popping noise.

"Popcorn," a female voice said.

"You're making popcorn?"

"Uh huh."

X crept closer, listening.

"I only eat popcorn at the movies."

What are 'movies', X wondered, still staying out of sight.

"Well, I'm getting ready to watch a video."

"Really? What?"

"Oh, just some scary movie."

"Do you like scary movies?"

X peered around one of the many piles of junk that made up the landscape of this strange place. And then he saw where the voices had been coming from.

In a valley of sorts in all of the junk a crowd had gathered in front of an enormous viewscreen. On it was a strange creature... presumably some type of organic lifeform. holding what was probably a communication device. It... she... was speaking in the female voice he had heard. The other voice was probably meant to be the replies over the communication device, given her reactions.

"You never told me your name."

"Why do you want to know my name?"

"Cause I want to know who I'm looking at."

The Junkions barely paid him any attention as he made his way slowly into the valley and found a seat at the edge of the crowd. He was confused and curious as to what was happening here. Someone nearby handed him a bowl full of some strange pale yellowish-white things, and he poked at them briefly. A surface scan of the thoughts of the crowd revealed the substance to be called 'popcorn' and that it was presumably edible.

He was distracted when the second voice became vicious. He looked up at the screen, curious.

"... you hang up on me again and I'll gut you like a fish, understand?!"

The little peach-colored organic female seemed frightened by this point, and X could feel a sense of anticipation from the watching crowd. They're watching this for amusement?, the thought, puzzled.

"Is this some kind of a joke?"

"More of a game, really... can you handle that?"

He tried a bite of the popcorn, unwilling to look away from the screen for too long. This was becoming interesting.

"Listen, I am two seconds away from calling the police."

"They'd never make it in time. We're out in the middle of nowhere."

"What do you want?"

"To see what your insides look like!"

X watched, fascinated, as the horror movie marathon continued.


It was hours before the run of films came to a brief intermission. The crowd began to disperse to find food or catch some sleep before the movies began again. Before X could decide whether to return to his ship or have a look around, a large hand grabbed hold of his shoulder.

He turned, quickly, and tore his 'attacker's' head off before he realized that the gesture hadn't been an attack at all.

Before he could decide how to react, to his surprise, the Junkion just reached down and picked his head up off the ground. "Hey, that's my head!" the strange Transformer said, reattaching it with ease.

"Um... sorry..," X said, having the distinct feeling he'd missed something.

"Just a flesh wound," the thin mech replied. He motioned for X to follow him, apparently intent on showing him around.

Not having any real reason not to, X complied, following the Junkion around a few large piles of junk to another clearing where a snack bar had been set up. Five other Junkions seemed to make their home in this clearing, apparently living in shacks made of whatever bits of junk caught their fancy. The party of sorts was taking place in a sort of rough 'town square' in the middle of the group of shacks.

"For those of you who just tuned in, everyone here is a crazy person," the Junkion guide told X, as they went down into the clearing. "I'm the Dude. So, that's what you call me. You know, that, or his dudeness, or duder, or el duderino, if you're not into the whole brevity thing."

X looked around, and then realized the Dude seemed to be waiting for something. "I'm a bit lacking in the name department at the moment..."

"Bummer..."

A tiny coppery green and brown femme hopped up onto a pile of junk to talk to the Junkion who was dispensing drinks to the others. "What a day. Gimme a beer."

"ID."

The little green girl glared at the bartender. "I'm eleven hundred and twenty years old! Just gimme a frickin' beer!"

"ID."

The girl sighed. "Gimme a Coke."

"Is she really that old," X asked the Dude, as they walked over to the makeshift 'bar' themselves.

"No."

X looked around again, taking note of the others in this group. Most were on the small end of the Junkion scale, which meant that they were about the same size as he was. That was more than a bit of a relief... he hadn't liked feeling so small.

The largest member of this group would still have towered over him if he'd been standing... an orange mech with blue optics that was watching the scene quietly. X watched him for a few moments, suspicious. Something seemed strange about that one... parts of his armor, particularly the spiky bits that all Junkions seemed to have, seemed added to his design almost as an afterthought. And then there were his optics... blue instead of red like the others. X realized then that his green optics would make him stand out a bit as well. He put aside his suspicions for later as they reached the bar.

Dude just nodded to the temporary bartender. "Priest..." He turned back to X. "I'm going to get a drink, would you like one?"

"No, thanks..."

"Hi, what's your name?", Priest asked.

"I... don't have a name."

"Sad. Will you have a name when we get home?"

X paused, having the strangest feeling he was being set up somehow. "I don't have a home..."

For some reason, the Junkions seemed much friendlier after that.



Legal stuff: All characters in this story are the trademarks and/or copyrights of their respective holders, except for those that aren't. Any resemblance to anyone who actually exists is coincidental (and pretty darn amazing), etc., etc. It's just a fanfic, guys.


Junkion Quote List:

Dude - "Hey, that's my head!" - One of the Fire Gang Creatures from Labyrinth

Dude - "Just a flesh wound" - the Black Knight, Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Dude - "For those of you who just tuned in, everyone here is a crazy person." Xander, Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Dude - "I'm the Dude. So, that's what you call me. You know, that, or his dudeness, or duder, or el duderino, if you're not into the whole brevity thing. " - 'the Dude', the Big Lebowski

Dude - "Bummer" - er... just about any movie that uses California or surfer slang...

Froggy and Priest - "Gimme a beer" - skit between Anya Emerson and a Bartender, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Dude - "No." - eh, this is a sorta cop out, how many movies don't have someone say 'no' in em at some point?

Dude - "I'm going to get a drink, would you like one?" Trevor, Aeon Flux

Priest - "Hi, what's your name?", Allen Francis Doyle, Angel

Rampage and Priest - "I don't have a name." "Sad. Will you have a name when we get home?" "I don't have a home." Simon Templar and Dr. Emma Russell, from The Saint (Rammy accidentally quotes a movie, which is a sure way to get on friendly terms with Junkions)
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2019-04-21 02:33 pm

Descent pt 2: The Stranger

X watched while the autopilot computer docked the ship, feeling edgy... and hoping this wouldn't turn out to be a mistake.

His experiences with other people so far hadn't been pleasant, and he would have preferred to avoid them... and yet at the same time he also craved the feel of other minds nearby, the background whispers of their thoughts and especially the emotions that he seemed to echo and draw strength from.

He'd stayed away as long as he could... but the need had steadily grown to where it could no longer be ignored. And worse yet, it had only been a matter of a couple days since he had left Omicron. Two solar cycles and the silence, the lack of emotions to feed upon was already unbearable. Warily, he reached for the hatch controls...

The ship's hatch opened, and he blinked a bit at the light in the hanger. Leaving the ship cautiously, he glanced around half expecting an attack or for someone to point him out and call for guards... but there was nothing.

He looked around again. Like an animal that has been kept caged for too long, now that he had his freedom he wasn't quite sure what to do with it.

A sign indicating the way to the local lunch counter caught his attention. Laboratory rations at Omicron had always been the same tasteless mush... this place looked like it had something different to offer. Puzzled curiosity overrode his wariness for the moment, and he headed in to the station's small diner.

X was very tense at the number of people around. Now that he was more aware of his empathic traits he tried to use them to keep track of everyone nearby and make sure none of them were threats to him...

Even then, he totally missed that he was being watched. In the furthest, darkest corner booth sat another Transformer. He'd seen the ship arrive, recognized it as a Maximal cruiser, and had his suspicions as to where it had come from.

As a rule, he didn't like Maximals. In fact, it could almost be said that he hated them, as much as he still had the energy to hate anything these days.

But there was something odd about this one. And so, he watched X closely for a while, all the time becoming more certain that his suspicion had been correct.

"Yes?" said an odd voice near X.

X looked over to glare at a strange creature standing behind a counter and looking at him expectantly. "What..."

The alien counterperson blinked and backed away a little. "Can I get you anything..?"

X looked down at the alien, frowning a bit. Instinctively he reached out on a telepathic level, reading the creature's surface thoughts... and finding out what the alien expected, as well as one apparent use for the little credit chits he'd found on the ship...

The alien blinked a little again, and looked slightly dazed. It muttered something quietly to itself about too much overtime...

Still unaware he was being observed, X picked one of the combo plate deals at random off the menu, paid for it, and looked around for a safe looking corner to sit down in. Finally he sat down where he could see the door, and looked at the plate he'd put down in front of himself.

None of the supposed food items was in the least familiar to him, and he was more than a bit wary of eating something so unrecognizable. And he'd caught a sense from the alien at the counter that it was one of the more common dishes served here. He stared at it for a moment, as if trying to reconcile the strange items with what he was used to thinking of as 'food'.

Before he'd managed to succeed in this, someone in the corner booth behind him spoke. "Join me, stranger?" the voice asked quietly... a faint tone to it of someone used to being in charge.

X turned suddenly, startled, to look at the strange Transformer who had spoken to him. His empathic sense hadn't caught anyone sitting there, but then he wasn't even really sure how he did that particular trick at all.

His surprise quickly gave way to suspicion. "Why..?" he asked, noting the stranger's green optics, and what could be a flight mode... it was hard to tell due to the dark corner the stranger was sitting in. But he was obviously a Transformer...

Curious, but wary, X picked up his plate and moved to sit with the stranger, telling himself that if this turned out to be a trap, that he would tear apart anyone who tried to corner him, as easily as he did those at Omicron...

"It has been a long time..," the stranger said, from where he sat in the shadows, "and you too are far from home."

X looked at the other Transformer, optics narrowed in suspicion. "'Home'?" he asked, his tone dripping sarcasm. Then the 'you too' part of the stranger's comment caught up with him. "You're not from Omicron..," he added quietly.

The stranger hmmed to himself and sipped his drink. "No..," he said, equally quiet, his optics shaded to a dark green, "no one is anymore."

X tensed, optics narrowed, expecting an attack... and knowing just what he would do when it came.

"News travels fast, if you know where to get it," the stranger said quietly, a brief thin smile on his face. "I suggest you remember that you're not from Omicron either... if you want to survive."

X quickly puzzled that one out. "They're looking for me..?" he said quietly, hardly a question. "But..." He frowned. How could there be anyone left to come after him.

"Publicly, no. Can't, since you're not supposed to exist. But privately? Ahh..." There was another brief thin smile. "That's another matter entirely."

X was puzzled for a moment, poking at the meal while thinking back over things he had 'overheard' at Omicron. "What does 'classified' mean?" he asked quietly, somewhat distracted, as he studied and then hesitantly ate a bite of the food.

"For very few people only. I was once one of them..," the stranger's tone became bitter, "but that was a very long time ago, in another universe. Fortunately for me, the Council's either stupid or lazy... or both."

"Council?" X asked, feeling strangely cold. He had been finding the food quite a distraction until then, but now it was almost forgotten. It wasn't over yet... they would come for him, and put him back in his cell... and the tests would begin again... No! He forced himself away from that train of thought. If anyone dared come after him, he would kill them... just as he had those at Omicron.

"Maximal Council of Elders... or Council of Idiots, take your pick."

"And they're the ones responsible for what was done to me?" X said, his expression and tone dark as he felt his anger grow again, echoing and feeding off the hate the stranger also held for this 'Council'...

"They're responsible for all manner of insanities, cruelties, and barbaric atrocities, yes."

X was silent for a while, poking at the other bits of food, till he'd tasted a little bit of each different thing... and then he waited, out of habit, to make sure he didn't start to feel ill... to make sure the food wasn't poisoned...

"Something wrong?" the stranger asked, a trace of curiosity on his face at X's eating habits.

"No..," X replied, and resumed eating after a moment, forcing himself not to be distracted by the meal, despite it being much better than the mush he'd been expected to eat in his cell at Omicron...

"You'll need a new ship..," the stranger commented absently. "Unless you want to be captured."

"This Council... they'd recognize that one?" X said, not really needing an answer as he thought over the possibility of this Council trying to capture him. "How many of them are there?"

"...and their numbers are legion," the stranger quoted, and smirked a bit to himself. Seeing that X didn't catch the reference he frowned faintly. "More than even you could handle, my friend."

X frowned, finishing the meal. "How am I supposed to get another ship?" He smirked slightly. "The same way I got this one would probably attract too much attention..."

"There are always ways... black market. Could get a good price for what you've got... and I might know of a way to get another ship."

X nodded slightly, and then after a moment asked the question that had been nagging at him since he had first met the other Transformer. "Why..? Why would you help me?"

The stranger twirled his empty glass, and then looked at X. "Because what helps you, hurts them."

X smirked faintly and nodded. He could understand that reasoning quite well.


Legal stuff: All characters in this story are the trademarks and/or copyrights of their respective holders, except for those that aren't. Any resemblance to anyone who actually exists is coincidental (and pretty darn amazing), etc., etc. It's just a fanfic, guys.

Disclaimer: Actual runaways talking to suspiciously helpful strangers is something unlikely to end well. X was very lucky, and had some very specific circumstances. Do not try this at home (or after leaving it). For that matter, it's usually a good idea not to try ANYTHING Rampage does. Remember, he's (mostly) immortal. You are probably not.

CREDITS:
Cyclonus - Starchaser
Rampage - Stacy

Note: This one was originally writted out as a script-style roleplay with someone else, then converted to prose form. Their screen name was Starchaser, I don't know/remember their real name and haven't heard from them in years. They played the other Transformer who shows up in this. Though it's never actually revealed in the story they're meant to be that timeline's Cyclonus, who had somehow managed to slip past the massive amounts of executions at the end of that timeline's Great War.
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2019-04-21 02:01 pm

Descent pt 1: The Protoform Project

His first clear memories began when he awoke on the floor of a small white walled room. For a moment, his mind still hazy from sedation, he recalled voices he had heard... but the memory faded away like a dream.

He stood up and began to examine his surroundings. The room was completely empty, except for himself, and brightly lit. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all uniformly white, and glazed with some form of ceramic. There were panels set in at various locations, and a drain in the floor.

The room was very small compared to his own size, and he felt somewhat claustrophobic for a moment. Calming himself, he noticed something else. Not quite whispers, as the sense wasn't auditory... but similar. Traces of other minds, nearby. Just what they were thinking he couldn't tell, yet, but he was surprised to find that some of them seemed to be watching him. He looked around but he was still alone in the small room.

He still felt as though he was being observed, and mentally chided himself for being paranoid. And then, his thoughts directed inward, he noticed a few other strange things. For one, while his datatrax didn't seem otherwise impaired, he didn't seem to have a name. All he knew was that he was a Maximal... and for some reason he was in this room. Beyond that, there was nothing.

The other surprise was that his feeling of being watched hadn't been a bit of paranoia. As each second passed and the last traces of sedation wore off, he could sense his observers more and more clearly.

"Hello?" he called out, to see if they would answer. "Is anyone there?"

There was no reply, and he could feel they had no intention of answering him... they just made a note of his actions and continued to watch. He almost recoiled from the feel of their minds... strangely distant from him, detached and emotionless.

Puzzled, he moved towards the door... and was not surprised to find it locked. He could sense they wanted him to stay in here. What he didn't understand was why.

Someone was coming. He could sense her approach and moved back from the door a bit, waiting. 'Perhaps she'll tell me why I'm here... and who I am..,' he thought. As soon as the door slid open he knew that he was wrong about that. The scientist who stepped into his cell wasn't there to tell him anything.

He felt the danger even before she raised the weapon she carried, but nothing in his experience told him how to react to it. He looked at her face in confusion at this betrayal... and would afterwards often wish he hadn't. The expression she wore would haunt his nightmares... it was the mirror of the sense he'd felt from the observers. The look on her face was so cold... the sort of glance one reserves for some one-celled organism viewed through a microscope.

Something insignificant.

He stood there, frozen in hurt surprise, as she shot him. He couldn't believe what was happening to him, and the shock of his situation was so great that she had to shoot him again before he fell down. Then, as he was lying helpless on the floor of the small, white cell, she calmly walked over and shot him point-blank in the face.

But the first day of his life wasn't to be the last... his injuries were already starting to heal before the femme had left the cell, resealing the door behind her.

He felt as though he was floating at first, suspended in some dark limbo with whispers all around him. The whispers of other beings' thoughts. Slowly, he realized he could almost hear what they were saying... could feel their thoughts and their presence in the room they stood in. Having never been told it was 'bad manners' for a telepath to do so... not even knowing what a telepath was... he eavesdropped on their thoughts.

There were several of them, watching him. Scientists, some official sent by the Maximal Council... whoever they were... and a courier who was supposed to deliver a report on this to that Council. He felt the shape of their minds, the empathic impressions... From most he sensed the same disgusting coldness as before, with one exception.

The courier seemed... troubled. He felt more confused after sensing that. Up until that moment he had assumed there was some reason for his treatment. That it would be explained and that there was nothing out of the ordinary... But this one mech's feelings on the subject seemed to imply that not only was being shot not a normal way to spend your first day online, but that something far worse was wrong. He seemed... disgusted, even horrified by what he was seeing.

And then he realized he could hear them. Voices, more sensed than heard in any more mundane way. They were too far away to have actually heard them, and yet he knew every word they said.


"So, what do you think of Protoform X, Primal?"

A scientist, speaking to the courier... he watched their reactions, flitting from mind to mind as he listened to their conversation.

"Fascinating to watch, isn't it... the healing factor..."

"I know. I hadn't been expecting that, even after reading the reports..."

A scientist, and then the Council official, speaking up. He seemed... impressed, almost pleased with what was happening...

"How do you people do this and live with yourselves?"

The courier... now here was one he wanted to watch closely. He seemed genuinely appalled by the shooting, by the cell, by all of it really... But his remark only prompted a few chuckles from the others, as though the scientists had just heard a not-so-funny joke.

"You're overreacting, Primal."

"Be professional, boy."

"You'd best not be planning to go to the news feeds with this, Primal. Remember, this project is classified."

There was a hint of warning in the official's voice. The vaguest, faintest of threats...

"I... no, forget what I said. It's not my place to interfere here."

Resignation in the tone... and behind it, something more interesting. Fear. This courier felt that what was being done was wrong... but Primal would do nothing to help, he would not even speak what he thought. Because he was afraid. Of them. Of the Council...


Consciousness slowly returned, but this time the memories did not completely fade. They remained clear... the recollection of Primal's fear of the council, the cold detachment of the scientists, the almost smug amusement of the Council Official.

At first his optics refused to open, and he rubbed at his face in an attempt to determine what was wrong. The action brushed away dried fluids that had crusted around his optics and sealed them shut, the only remaining sign that he had ever been injured at all.

He stood up, wary now, and glanced around again. The cell was as he first saw it... plain, white, and small... yet somehow, it seemed darker. As for himself... except for the dried mechfluid on his face and chest, he had completely healed. Physically, anyway. Mentally was quite another matter.

Even an abused child has the hope that maybe someday the abuse will stop. That someone will change. It's often a false hope, but for some it is all to hold on to. He knew better. He knew exactly what they thought of him now, and that there would be more 'tests' coming. And that no one would help him because they were afraid.

And he couldn't do anything to stop it.

The activation of the sprinkler system in the ceiling didn't startle him. He was too lost in the contemplation of what awaited him... fighting back his own fear, determined not to give in to the same emotion that he'd sensed from Primal. But the small part of him that was aware of his surroundings at the time was glad of the method being used to clean the cell... and himself... for one simple reason.

It hid his tears.


He slept for a while, in a corner of the small room, and when he awoke the room was cold. He shivered as the temperature continued to drop rapidly. He scanned for the thoughts of the observers in an attempt to determine what was going to happen to him this time.

Primal and the Council Official were both gone, and the others weren't speaking among themselves this time, but that didn't matter. He could read their surface thoughts by now. They were running a series of tests. They wanted to get this set out of the way, because of some... inconvenience? Ah, there was the information he'd wanted... today was going to be tests of environmental extremes.

The temperature was still dropping. He ignored it for now. He knew what the 'inconvenience' was... they could not be in the cell for these tests. Which meant that later, they would come into his little white room. Why were they doing this to him?

He shivered again, and noticed frost was beginning to form on the walls and floor of the cell. A moment later and he was beginning to find the cold uncomfortable. The temperature continued to drop. He curled up tighter, shivering, trying to stay warm as the mechfluid in his fuel lines began to crystallize from the cold. Pain tore through him as systems began to freeze and shut down, but he was too frozen to scream. He welcomed the darkness when it came, and as he fell into unconsciousness he caught the stray thought from the observers... no normal Cybertronian would survive this...

He awoke with a burning pain spreading through him. The room was getting hot now, and his systems were healing from the severe case of fuel-frost. Before the pain from the first test had completely subsided, he realized the room was too warm... and getting hotter by the moment.

His systems fought melting as well as they had the cold. He found himself once again unable to scream... unable to move... as if the slightest pressure would cause his systems to liquefy. The last thing he saw before slipping back into unconsciousness were the thin lines of molten metal his fingertips left on the wall... as though he were made of warm wax.

The rest of the day was a blur of pain, one test after another after another to where he could not keep track of where one ended and the next began. Environmental extremes of all sorts were tested, from gravitational forces that crushed him nearly flat, to corrosive gasses.

He wasn't sure how long it continued. All he could remember was the pain, which seemed as though it would never end. And wishing each time he slipped into an unconsciousness brought on more by system shock than true stasis lock, that this time he would not wake up.

Finally he awoke, and the pain was only a memory. Still, he didn't move for some time, as if attracting attention to himself by moving would bring back the pain. His systems were sending back low energy warnings... but the damage from the tests had already completely healed.

Uninjured or not, consciousness was not a state he wanted... and he curled up tighter in the corner of his cell, attempting to fall back into the soft darkness of oblivion.

Sleep eluded him, and the low energy warnings became more and more persistent... he needed food. He stood, cautiously, casting wary glances around his small white cell.

A tray had extended from the wall, and he edged closer to inspect it.

There was a bowl on the tray. It was permanently attached to the tray, welded in place. In it was a grayish-brown substance. It had a slight unappealing scent, and he wondered what it was. A light scan of the constantly watching minds of the Maximal scientists on shift in their little viewing room let him know that they expected him to eat this.

He tapped the side of the bowl. It certainly looked unappetizing, despite his hunger, but he could tell from their thoughts that if he didn't eat this, there wouldn't be anything else. Even where his meals were concerned, there were no options.

He examined the substance more closely. It was a room temperature mush, with little smell or texture. It didn't seem harmful, at least. But the bowl was welded to the tray, and there were no utensils of any sort.

No other choice, once again... he stuck his fingers into the substance and scooped some out of the bowl. It was slimy to the touch, and he scowled. He put it in his mouth and quickly swallowed... and gagged. Given the appearance, he hadn't expected the stuff to have any flavor at all... and in a way it didn't. What it had instead was undefinable.

He stood there for quite a while, half wishing that Cybertronians could throw up.. and half glad he couldn't. And then he sensed something that made him angry. One of the technicians watching him was amused. Amused because he had no choice but to eat this slop or starve... perhaps they even wanted him to starve. Another of their tests...

He was still hungry. He forced another bite down, fighting back the urge to gag. There was an aftertaste to the stuff that, if he'd known of anything outside of his little cell, he might have likened to plain oatmeal, seasoned with white glue and soap. He simply couldn't eat any more of the stuff.

Hours later, the bowl was still there. The substance in it had somehow managed to grow colder with time, and become slightly jelled. If anything, it was even worse than before. And he was hungry...


He had no way to know how much time passed in his cell. He counted days by noting whenever he was left alone for a while. After only a few months he knew of thousands of ways to kill someone. Thousands of ways which wouldn't kill him. He knew what he was now... what they were testing for. And he knew that, unlike him, they could be killed... another thing to envy them for other than their relative freedom...

They strapped him down now, for their tests. It was necessary to sedate him in order to get the restraints in place, first with various gasses and then with stun fields. He always fought back. He knew if he ever stopped that it would be because he had given up... that he had become nothing more than what they saw him as... a thing and not a person. He refused to give in to that. He refused to let fear make him a slave like it did that whimpering courier he still remembered from the first day.

He had nothing but hatred and contempt for them now, these Maximals... They let their fear control them. Their fear of each other and of this Council of theirs...

Does chaining me make you feel less afraid, Maximals? he thought to to himself, alone in his cell for the moment. Does it really? He almost chuckled, and then let himself anyway... he knew his laughter disturbed the technicians monitoring his cell, and he found their reactions most amusing.

It especially frightened them when he would laugh during testing. They thought him insane by now... but they would never have guessed the real reason. He laughed because he'd sworn to himself they would never hear him scream... and yet, when the pain would come, as it always did... he had to do something. So he laughed. And they were frightened.

He'd soon found he liked it when they were frightened. They were all slaves to their own fear to begin with, and to toy with that emotion was the one small bit of vengeance he could extract from within his cramped cell.

They had to keep increasing the power on the stun fields used to render him temporarily unconscious. Like the gasses they'd used before, and the sedative they had slipped in his food only once... he was building up a tolerance.

Soon they would have to come up with another method... and if they didn't in time, they would get a surprise.

Escape wasn't on his mind, at least not of the usual sort. It had taken him some time to piece together that there was a world outside of his little white room. Certainly the technicians watched from somewhere else. But he knew of no other place than Omicron, nowhere to escape to. But perhaps, just perhaps, there was a way they were holding back. Some fail-safe or secret that these Maximals or their Council knew. And if he broke loose... if he showed them just how much he had learned in his time here... if he killed enough of them... maybe, just maybe... they would kill him.

It was the only escape he expected, the one he longed for during every test... the end that was denied to him by some strange aspect of his own being... the immortality they had cursed him with.

The stun field slammed him into the floor, and he only had a split second in which to wonder if it had any higher settings than that, before he blacked out.


A few tests later it finally happened. He began to regain consciousness before they had even reached his cell. He heard the footsteps approach his door, the examination table raising from its hatchway in the floor... and he remained perfectly still as the last traces of the stun field's effects faded. It took effort, but he knew if he moved too soon he would lose this chance... they would stun him again before they entered.

Optics shut, he heard the door slide open. Footsteps came closer. It was very difficult to force himself to remain limp and unresponsive as several technicians carried him towards the table. As soon as they had put him back down, but before they engaged the restraints, he grinned.

The stunned looks on their faces as he opened his optics soon changed to sheer terror. There was no time to activate restraints. There was no time to run. And as the screaming began, X started laughing...


He barely noticed the security alarm blaring when he found the observation room less than a minute later. Some of the technicians had tried to flee, others had tried to barricade the door to keep him out. Neither method was effective in the end.

He'd torn the door down like it was made of tinfoil. The alarms seemed more and more distant as he let his rage carry him onward, absorbing the panic and fear of those around him, tearing through anything... and anyone... in his path.

Until, quite suddenly, there was silence.

It was startling and unfamiliar enough to shock X out of his rage, as sure as if he had been doused with ice water, and he dropped the torn blue, silver, and purple form of the last of his victims to the ground.

Like a sound that isn't really noticed until it suddenly stops, for the first time in his memory there was quiet. A silence that was completely devoid of the emotions and thoughts of others. The previously constant feel of other minds, other thoughts and feelings that had always been somewhere nearby was gone. For the first time, he was truly alone.

He looked around at the carnage he had caused, feeling strangely numb without the soft whispers of other minds... other emotions. This silence wasn't what he'd wanted... was it? He'd only wanted to make sure they couldn't hurt him anymore. He didn't know what to do...

He hadn't thought this far, hadn't had any plans beyond making certain he would never be hurt again. He looked around again, the dazed feeling fading as he grew used to the silence. They hadn't stood a chance against him. He felt a growing sense of satisfaction, and smiled a bit as he kicked a piece of one of the bodies across the hall. No one would stand a chance against him... and no one would ever be able to hurt him again.



Legal stuff: All characters in this story are the trademarks and/or copyrights of their respective holders, except for those that aren't. Any resemblance to anyone who actually exists is coincidental (and pretty darn amazing), etc., etc. It's just a fanfic, guys.
2019-01-04 08:50 am

Nexus Clinic (for if help is needed)

A one-story building sitting within shouting distance of the Wilybot Warehouse, the main room and entryway is easily big enough to drive a car into. More than one, actually, given that there's already a partly reassembled black trans-am in there, parked next to the CRs for various mechanical patients.
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-27 03:30 pm
Entry tags:

The Thing Under The Bed

Seven-year-old Jon Crane was on the verge of a minor panic attack. Someone or something had been in his room, rummaging through the fabrics and craft supplies that Lonnie Machin and Alice Brown had brought him. Some of the sewing supplies were missing. What made it even worse was that he just woken up and everything had been in place before he gone to bed, so they been creeping around his room while he was in here asleep. He checked the door, but it was still latched on the inside.

He looked at it a moment longer before unlatching it and peeking out at the hallway outside. It wasn't that he hadn't been out of his room at all... just that he restricted it thus far to meals and other such things. He was relieved he wouldn't have to go far, as a familiar ten year old boy with ginger hair wasn't that far away. Jon walked over to him, trying to look less nervous than he felt. "Lonnie? Someone's been in my room..."

Lonnie accompanied Jon back to his room to begin systematic search for any clues as to who was responsible. Lonnie saw no reason not to believe Jon was telling what he believed to be the truth, and he could see Jon found that a relief. But the older boy hid worse concerns. If the door was latched, he wasn't certain how anyone - except maybe one of the various Clayfaces - could get inside. He hoped they'd find something to show what had happened, because he didn't like the idea of Jon sleepwalking. Or worse, the old 'Scarecrow' persona becoming true dissociative identity disorder...

The room had no windows, it had stone walls and a heavy wooden door that had been latched. It had roughly two inches of clearance between the door and the floor. Lonnie wasn't sure how thin the Clayfaces could become. Maybe if the baby had wandered off... but it didn't look like a child as young as Cassius Payne had done this. The fabrics and sewing supplies were the only thing in the room that had been disturbed. And not even all of those. The old clothes and straw, according to Jon, were where he'd left them... much to Lonnie's unspoken relief. One of the seasonal fabric bundles had been opened, some of the embroidery thread was gone, and so were needles and other thread. "We should check for anything else out of place, or anything an intruder might have left behind," he told Jon.

Jon nodded, and then remembered someone he'd known in that fuzzy adult past who might have been able to ooze around a locked door. "Do you think Clayface did this? One of them? I don't know what any of them would want with what's missing."

"Means and opportunity, yes, but I don't know what motive there could be either," Lonnie said, as he checked around furniture and along the bottom edge of the door for... well, he wasn't certain what. Traces of clay, perhaps? He didn't know if they left any behind.

Since Lonnie was checking next to the door, Jon thought about it. If he had been someone who could turn into a blobby clay monster, and he was sneaking into a room, what places would he go? Close to the floor to get under the door, which Lonnie was already looking at. Maybe a place to hide in case he woke up? With that in mind, he bent over to check under the bed.

"Nonononono!" a small voice squeaked and Jon jerked back before he was able to get a good look at what was under there.

"I think we've found your intruder," Lonnie said, a mixture of surprised and curious. It wasn't going to be able to go anywhere without either of them seeing it, unless it could go through walls. But whatever it was didn't sound exactly human. It didn't even sound as much like one as one of the Clayfaces. It was more... liquid, somehow.

"Please don't look at me," the voice drifted from under the bed. If it weren't for the inhuman qualities, it would almost have sounded like a small girl child. But they both knew it wasn't Annie Karlo-Hagen under there.

"Why not?" Lonnie asked, though he made no move to do so. Whatever it was, he didn't want to violate it's privacy, even if it was intruding.

"And why are you in my room? And under my bed? Did you take the cloth and sewing things?" Jon asked. The thing sounded so small and vulnerable even he was having trouble being afraid of it.

"I broke. It hurts people to look at me. I have to fix it..." A tendril of something black-purple and translucent pushed a faded yellow rag from under Jon's bed and then quickly retreated before they could make out exactly what it was.

After a moment's hesitation and exchanged glances, Lonnie reached to pick the rag up. It looked like some sort of limbless stuffed rabbit, only without the stuffing and with an open bottom. The fabric was dry-rotted and the seams were coming apart. While Lonnie could see what it was, it was Jon who understood first.

"It's a costume. A mask. You wear this..." It was like the Scarecrow, but in reverse. "You wear this to keep others safe from you," he said to the thing under the bed in a gentle voice.

"Yes. It's Pikachu. Many like Pikachu..."

"That's a type of Pokémon," Lonnie said. "It... She?..," he realized he wasn't certain, but it sounded more like a girl, "...must have come here with the rest of them from the Vending Machine. ... I don't know what kind would hurt someone if it was seen, however." Despite having them for neighbors, he'd paid more attention to what the former Pokémon were now rather than taking time to study much about their past world and, from what he'd heard, nearly a thousand different types.

"Mimikyu," came a soft reply from under the bed.

Jon sat down next to the bed. He was still too tall to accidentally see under it, even sitting. "I know how to sew." It was something he'd learned when older, but right then... it was something that could be a good thing.

"Will you help me?"

"If you'd like me to."

A piece of thick sunshine-yellow flannel was pushed out from under the bed, two circles of bright red velvet roughly stitched to it.

Lonnie watched this with a trace of a smile, and after briefly catching the other boy's attention to let him know, quietly left the room. It would seem Jon had found a friend, and he thought that could only be beneficial to the younger boy's mental stability.

Behind him, Jonathan Crane started to carefully reattach the velvet cheeks to the rabbit shape with a neat blanket stitch.
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-26 11:48 am

A Hole In The World

Waspinator had lost track of how long he'd been alone. He'd salvaged what he could after the Beast Wars and, after eventually having a falling out with the primitive humans, set up home in a cave far away from their territories. Waspinator had grown to like his cave, and he liked the garden around his cave.

And now there was a hole in Waspinator's garden, and Waspinator was not happy about it. It didn't even have the decency to be a normal hole in the dirt, one that he could have easily filled in. No, it had to hang there in the air, reminding him far too much of some sort sort of transwarp disturbance. Like the one that had brought him here years before.

He and Terrorsaur should have just taken off for some far colony world and left Megatron to his schemes, he knew that now. But, of course, it was too late for knowing that to be of any use. Especially for Terrorsaur.

And now there was this thing right near the entrance to his home, and Waspinator still didn't have a decent CR rebuilt to drag himself to if it decided to do something nasty. He hurled a rock at the hole in frustration. It passed through, but didn't come back out the other side.

Waspinator wasn't surprised.


When the hole was still there when he got back from hunting, Waspinator began to go from not happy to angry. It seemed he would have to actually do something about the hole in order to get rid of it, and that would mean having more to do with it than he actually wanted to. He threw another rock at it.

The rock was followed by another rock, this one with a piece of thin rope made from plants tied around it. He pulled that rock back out, and it seemed undamaged.

Next was a rabbit he managed to catch and then chase through the hole. It didn't come back, which was both not a surprise and a waste of good food. Waspinator decided that was not one of his better ideas.

The next rabbit didn't come back either, despite the rope tied around it. He couldn't tell if something had cut the rope, if it had somehow been broken by pulling on it wrong, or if the rabbit had managed to chew through it before he could pull it back out of the hole.

He found a large lizard next. He didn't like the taste of lizards, so it wouldn't be any loss if it did escape, and it seemed less likely to chew through the rope as the rabbit. It plodded through slowly, and then he tossed in a tied bundle of the leaves he seen it eating. Holding both ropes, he waited a few moments and then slowly began to pull the one with the leaves back. The lizard followed the bundle back out, still trying to eat the confusingly mobile food, and apparently unharmed.

He watched it for three days, feeding it when it got hungry, to make absolutely certain it was undamaged.

He named it Checkers after it tried to eat one of the pieces on the game board he'd made.


The day after that, the hole was still there. Waspinator decided there was only one thing left to do. He packed a few supplies, made certain his toxin rifle was loaded, and stepped through the hole.


He stepped back out of it several hours later with a crate full of supplies in his arms. By sundown he had the salvaged Predacon CR and computer functional again.

There had been a place on the other side of the hole. A place with lots of very strange people. Most were human, but he seen ancient Transformers there, both Autobot and Decepticon, and none of them fighting. For most it seemed it was because fighting was not allowed in that place the called the 'Nexus'. Waspinator heard a few conflicting things about what could happen to anyone who tried to attack someone else, everything from weapon malfunctions to unexplained forcefields to one instance he certainly hoped was a rumor - the aggressor being spontaneously turned into some kind of large bird called an emu.

Over the next few days, Waspinator continued to explore what was on the other side of the hole, no longer angry it had appeared in his garden. He approached other Transformers cautiously at best, and learned there were multiple realities and 'timelines' that connected to the Nexus, and that the Autobots and Decepticons he had seen at first were not from his own world's past... or future, given Waspinator's own chronological displacement. There was also supposedly at least one reality similar to his own where there was a truce. The idea of a truce with Maximals made him feel ill, and he was even more careful after that.

He didn't want to meet an alternate of himself - or, worse, of Terrorsaur - and didn't want to give away just when he was from and end up with awkward questions. On the other hand, sneakily crashing the occasional inter-faction picnic or barbecue was a useful way to get food and supplies, when he felt up to risking the emotional pain involved. There was no easy way to be friendly to a mixed group of enemies and the dead.

His life had just taken a turn for the stranger, and some aspects of that turn he could have done without... but it was still better than being stranded alone on Prehistoric Earth with no supplies.
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-23 03:44 pm

Clinically Speaking

Several minutes later Mikoto was half-wishing she had waited for an explanation from Regulus instead. She was going to have to have a discussion later with Sirius Black about the dangers of alcohol poisoning, if only to make sure he didn't kill Regulus with his ineptitude before she could find a way to send him back where he came from.

"... well, Regulus was going to end up under the table after we'd both spiked his drink a few times, and Zidane offered for us to spend the night up at the castle. We're almost there when this strange bug-thing Zidane called an oglop hops in the moat. The second there was a splash Regulus went from half unconscious to some sort of mad fit. He didn't seem to have any idea where he was or who we were. We had to chase him down, and we'e lucky Zidane had picked his pocket and confiscated his wand or someone might have been hurt. As it was, Zidane still accidentally set fire to a flower stall. The fire actually seemed to help, but Regulus passed out as soon as he calmed down. Zidane said a friend of his had a theater nearby and we ended up in a back room there to sleep it off. Now it's your turn... what the hell's happened to him?"

Mikoto just nodded slightly. The only part of it that surprised her at all was Zidane using magic, but then it had clearly been by accident. "Taking Regulus near the moat was a mistake. Any sufficiently large body of water can be a trigger issue." They'd learned that the hard way on one previous visit to Alexandria, and that trip they had the Magelets along to help prevent a panic attack. In an inebriated state the odds of a breakdown would be significantly greater.

"A what?" Sirius wished the betailed girl could just make simple sense.

"Sensory input that can cause or worsen a panic attack. It's understandable that the presence of a fire would help alleviate the condition. Aside from the light and warmth, I have been informed that inferi do not like fire."

Sirius could have sworn the temperature of the room dropped several degrees at the mention of those things. Inferi were undead horrors created by a level of dark magic that was still a few shades away from the horcrux that Regulus had mentioned the night before. "What do those have to do with any of this? How did Regulus get here, and why is he... Why did that happen? I just want a straight answer."

"In the late evening of November 23rd, 1979, your younger brother had your family's house elf transport him to a cave in order to steal a horcrux created by Tom Riddle. Were you aware of at least that much?"

"Yes." Regulus had managed to fill him in on that much the previous evening, and Sirius still thought his little brother was either a lot braver than he'd ever given him credit for, or absolutely bloody insane. Possibly both.

"The cave's location was on the seaside, and it contained a lake that was inhabited by a large number of Inferi. The locket was also protected by a toxic potion with several unpleasant properties. The Esuna I cast negated the substance so, unfortunately, I do not have a complete analysis of it. However, Regulus was able to give a report on its effects during his recovery." Mikoto stepped over to one of the silver wall panels and brought up a report on the substance on screen. She made certain it was in English for Sirius to read.

"Wait... he actually drank this?" Sirius asked, as he read over the description. "Did he know what it would do? Why would he... I mean, he had that damned house elf right there. I'd've ordered Kreacher to drink it."

Mikoto studied the older man calmly for a moment before replying. "Yes, he did, and he was already aware of the eventual effects. It would have been irrational to poison the House Elf. From what I have been informed, Kreacher was capable of escaping the anti-apparition wards around the cave. It was necessary that he remain lucid and without significant damage in order to take the locket away to be destroyed. Or at least that was the plan." After a second's consideration, she added, "Also I believe he would hex you just for making that suggestion, so I advise you not to do it again when he is present."

"And Kreacher just left him there?" Sirius blurted, still trying to wrap his mind around some of the implications of this.

"I believe he was under specific orders to do so, yes," Mikoto replied. Regulus had never said exactly what was said to the House Elf, but it seemed the most logical possibility to her. For whatever reason, Kreacher had felt obligated to leave. The details were, so far as Mikoto was concerned, irrelevant.

Noting that Sirius seemed to be in some state of confused shock she continued explanations. "One of the symptoms resulting from ingestion of that potion is extreme thirst, but a further enchantment renders almost all sources of liquid inaccessible. This is to force the weakened victim to attempt to drink from the surface of the lake, at which point they are attacked and killed by the inferi. Escape would have been extremely unlikely."

"But... he..." Sirius was still reduced to incoherence as he tried to understand. He'd guessed as of the night before that Regulus had gone to something he thought likely to kill him... but he hadn't know that he'd gone to something he'd believed was certain to do so... and that he'd actually planned it that way. "Why didn't he..." He couldn't finish the sentence, unable to immediately come up with a different plan.

"He wrote you a letter," Mikoto stated. There was no accusation in her tone, just simple statement of fact, but it hit Sirius like a slap to the face. Satisfied that this had put a quick end to any idiotic babbling, she turned back to the screen. "The inferi managed to inflict severe injuries before a random portal deposited Regulus in the Nexus. Again I lack complete records of the worst of them. It was necessary to use healing magic immediately and I did not at the time have a suitable recording device available. However, Valia Pira is capable of doing a reconstruction of the damage based upon the resulting scar tissue and the spells used." She took some note that Sirius had gone very pale at the latest medical records she had brought up on the screen, but at least he remained silent. "While I would hesitate to refer to anyone arriving in the Nexus with the kind of injuries he had 'lucky', he was fortunate in a few aspects. The extreme cold of the water, possibly meant to act as a preservative for the inferi in the lake, as well as the severe throat injury here... His core body temperature would have plummeted rapidly, bringing on a state of cardiac arrest before too much blood loss could occur. Such temperatures also lower metabolic rate, which would have helped reduce ischemic injury and other cellular damage due to hypoxia."

Sirius didn't recognize several of the words Mikoto was using at this point, but with the records she brought up he didn't need to understand all of them. No one survived injuries like that. And he still knew a few of the words... "You're saying... he was dead..?" None of this seemed possible.

Mikoto just tilted her head slightly before answering. "By your world's medical understanding at that time period, yes. Perhaps still so in your own time." At least on the Wizarding side of things, she didn't add... though she'd heard enough of the archaic nature of Regulus's home to suspect that the non-magical segment of the population would grasp the difference between clinical death and permanent death far sooner than their magical counterparts.

Sirius didn't know what to think. This wasn't right. Someone had to be mistaken somewhere. "There isn't any kind of magic that can bring back the dead."

"Death is not an on-off switch. There are stages, not all of which are irreversible... though I would not be surprised if they were still considered so in your world.

At that point, Sirius could only understand one thing. He needed to see Regulus. "Where is he?"

"I believe I told you earlier that he has obligations in Alexandria. You can find him at the White Mage clinic there." Mikoto watched with some internal bemusement as Sirius ran more than halfway down the hall before he seemed to recall that there was no easy way to walk out of the Desert Palace and that it would be necessary to use his PINpoint. After he was gone, she cleared the records from the computer screen and returned to her studies.
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-23 07:36 am

The Morning After

Over the half a year he'd spent on Gaia, Regulus had become accustomed to nightmares. He rarely slept well, and often woke suddenly in the mornings... and given the content of the dreams, he was usually relieved to wake up at all. This morning was different in that, while he physically felt quite horrible for some reason he couldn't recall, the nightmares had been mostly absent. Instead of waking up in his usual panic, he was snuggled next to something warm. On some instinctive level, warmth meant safety. It meant he couldn't be anywhere near a certain seaside cave where horrible things waited in icy cold water.

Not feeling well and the lack of nightmares combined to make an unusual morning of not wanting to wake up at all, which is why it took him so long to wake up enough to realize that the nice warm pillow had fur.

It took another half-second to think past the absolutely horrid headache and mentally connect 'large unconscious black dog' with Sirius. At that point he would have given the dog an irritated shove, had he not felt too ill to want to move. It was almost tempting to just pull the blanket up over his head and try to go back to sleep, though he doubted the headache would let him. He was actually reaching for the edge of the blanket to give it a try anyway, when he realized he had no idea where they were.

With a wince, he managed to force himself into something roughly approximating a sitting position to look around. He, and the dog that was Sirius's Animagus form, were on a thin straw-stuffed mattress that had been placed on the floor of what looked to be some kind of storage room. The feathered red hat of the ridiculous outfit he'd managed to get Sirius to wear was laying next to another similar mattress a short distance away. The shelves that lined the walls held an extremely eclectic mix of small to medium items, and larger things were propped against a far wall... Rolls of canvas with things painted on them, and false doors and windows. Theater stage dressing...

Regulus began to piece together a possible scenario despite the distracting pain in his head, and he didn't at all like this situation. Zidane had joined them in the pub the previous evening... Zidane, who had been a member of Tantalus. Tantalus was a group of thieves that used the cover of being a theater group. And this was some sort of theater prop room.

Regulus knew there was no way he should feel as horrible as he did from just mead, so clearly something had been slipped into his drink during the evening. That this had lead somehow to waking up in the back room of a probable thieves den could in no way be good news. A quick check confirmed that most of his belongings were still surprisingly present, with the notable exceptions of his wand, the portable Terran computer he'd taken to keeping with him, and anything resembling currency. That Tantalus had sometimes participated in kidnappings was another thing he'd learned in his time on Gaia, and it was quickly looking like that was what had just happened. Zidane must have spotted Regulus at the pub with Sirius, called in a favor from his old friends, and took the opportunity to slip something into his drink... and likely Sirius's as well. Then they would have been disarmed and placed in here. But why? Surely they couldn't expect a ransom to be paid from a whole world away...

Unless Zidane meant this to get to Mikoto somehow, perhaps to try to force her to leave Kuja in stasis. Regulus couldn't puzzle it out, not with the headache he had, though even with that impediment he doubted a plan like that would work. Zidane clearly didn't know his own sister at all well. For now, a strategic retreat seemed to be the best option, as much as he hated the thought of leaving without finding what they'd done with his wand. Retrieving the ridiculous feathered hat from the other mattress, he put it on the large black dog, and retrieved his PINPoint from the waist pouch he wore. Bad planning on their part, he thought, that they hadn't taken that away from him. Thankfully, coordinates for the Desert Palace were already stored... he wasn't sure he could have typed them in in his condition.

Arriving at the Desert Palace didn't really help him relax, since he knew all too well about the design of the floor in those little round rooms. Luckily, since he had access, all it took was contact with one of the walls to open the door. Unluckily, he didn't yet know the Gaian version of a hover charm... and Padfoot, despite being underfed, was still well over a hundred pounds of extremely unconscious dog.

By the time he'd managed to drag the dog out into the hallway, the weight had become less of a worry than Padfoot's stubborn refusal to wake up. He tried giving him a gentle shake, but that only resulted in the dog yawning right in his face... and drunken dog morning breath was truly horrid. "Sirius, wake up!" he snapped, giving the dog a bit of a harder shove in retaliation. To his relief, this time the dog blinked at him sleepily before changing into a confused and possibly still somewhat inebriated wizard.

"Whu..." It took Sirius's mind one short moment to recognize the pale and worried face looking at him, and another for it to sink in that it meant the last day or so had not been a fire whiskey-induced dream. He grinned and pulled his very-not-dead little brother into a tight hug.

Suddenly being grabbed did not help at all with how Regulus was feeling. "Sirius, please... don't. I don't feel at all well, and this isn't helping."

Sirius laughed at the realization that Regulus likely had one hell of a hangover, then winced as he realized was one looming in his own very immediate future. "We need to find something to drink..."

"That's what got us into this mess," Regulus complained, as they both got to their feet.

"I meant water," Sirius said, and then frowned. "Why are we back here again?"

"Because it's preferable to where we were," Regulus said, trying to make his way out of the dungeon area and closer to his rooms. It was some relief that the Desert Palace's odd lighting didn't seem to make his head feel any worse.

"I don't know... there was this girl..," Sirius said, grinning as he followed along. He knew his little brother wouldn't remember that part. He'd already been unconscious.

"Well, that explains how they distracted you," Regulus snapped back, irritated. "I woke up in the back room of a thieves' den and all you seem to have noticed is that one of them was female." He couldn't help feeling a bit smug when that finally wiped the grin off Sirius's face.

Sirius wanted to protest that that certainly wasn't the only thing he'd noticed... except that he didn't remember anything about a thieves den.

"Check your pockets to see if anything's missing, Regulus said, before Sirius could recover from his confusion. "They took my wand, computer and any money I had at the time, but neglected to confiscate my PINPoint."

Sirius shook his head at that, and then regretted the action when he felt the early signs of a headache. "I have your wand. Zidane took it from you, and then I took it from him after he accidentally set fire to a flower cart... you don't remember any of this?"

"No, I don't," Regulus snapped. "And since I didn't drink anything but mead after that once, that means something is very wrong." Reaching one of the computer access panels he retrieved a glass of water and handed it to Sirius before getting another for himself.

"I might have spiked your drink once," Sirius admitted. Or twice, now that he thought back on it. And he wasn't sure Zidane hadn't done the same.

"We'll discuss that later. I'm more concerned now with where we woke up... I want nothing to do with Tantalus, and I don't want to know what they might have wanted with either of us."

"Tanta-who?"

"Then Zidane's associates were involved in whatever reason you did not return last night?" This question came from Mikoto, who had been alerted to their arrival by Valia Pira.

"And Zidane himself," Regulus replied. "Apparently you missed him actually using magic, though you'll have to ask Sirius about the details..." And then he noticed a helpful reminder that swirled briefly beneath the surface of the nearby access screen, like oil in water. "I'm going to be late..." Practically shoving the empty water glass back into the Desert Palace's storage, he headed for his rooms as quickly as he could manage in his current condition.

Sirius started to follow him, only to find his way blocked by Mikoto.

"From what I have learned of your world's cultural values, I do not think he would appreciate company while changing clothing," she said. "And since he will not have sufficient time this morning to tell me why Tantalus's involvement is now a matter of concern, that leaves you. Explain."

"Wait... where's Regulus going?"

"He has obligations in Alexandria which he is unlikely to neglect," Mikoto says. "Which is why it is important to know what interest Tantalus has, to determine if this has placed him in danger. Do you understand."

Sirius still thought they were overreacting. None of the people he'd met had seemed that bad. "Fine, but I want some answers too. Regulus said to ask you about how he arrived here."

"That seems an acceptable exchange of information."
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-22 05:53 am

A Place Between Worlds

Crown Prince Edain, sixteen year old eldest son of King Wolfgang, and heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Akalabeth was completely and utterly lost.

When he awoke sprawled on the grass with a fading memory of bright dancing lights and strange prickling pain, he knew something disastrous had happened. He could only curse his own stupidity for not seeing it coming.

When his younger brother insisted on showing him something new he learned from the ancient tomes he spent so much of his time pouring over, and didn't want to check it with their father, their tutors, or the court magician first… well, truthfully they both knew better. Though Edain really hadn't expected to be the target of his fourteen year old brother's new spell.

He did not want to think the worst of the situation, but he knew there would be a great deal of trouble when the entire mess was discovered. And it would be all the worse if he were not there.

Unfortunately, after a fortnight of wandering, Edain had yet to see another person in this strange land. He was certain by now it was no part of Akalabeth that he knew, and had much reason to be thankful his tutors had insisted he and his brother learn how to survive in the wilderness should some misadventure separate them from all of their usual guardians. The large forest here had fresh springs and berries. A nearby coast, one which lacked so much as a single ship no matter how often he visited, had at least provided fish and lobster for his meals. The weather had not been uncomfortable, for the most part. And, when otherwise, there were portions of this place that had strange buildings of brick and metal that provided shelter, though their design was of no construction style he had ever seen.

But there were many details that made him uneasy. The tricks his teachers had taught him for finding direction in the forest did not work. He had seen no moon in his entire time here, and he could not even be completely certain how long that was. Despite counting the days and when he slept, the lengths of day and night seemed unpredictable to him. Even when there was clear daylight he could find no sun by which to judge the hour. There was a feel of sorcery to the entire place that he felt he had good reason not to trust given the manner of his arrival.

He had been wishing there were others here. Someone he could ask about this location, or if they knew how to get home, or at the very least something to give him some sign of where he was, when he realized he walked right into an unfamiliar portion of the erratic place instead of towards the beach as he had intended.

This part of it was even stranger to him than the section of buildings, as parts of it seemed unable to decide if it were indoors or outdoors. Patches of tiles of an unknown substance were mixed with grass. A wooden crate with an unfamiliar form of lettering sat on one of the tile patches, and strange furnishings like some of those he'd seen within the buildings were scattered around as well. He was never certain if those things were meant to be beds or chairs, though they served him as both at various times.

He made some note to determine the purpose, if any, of this place later, and turned around to try to find his way back to the coast... only to nearly walk into an enormous double-posted sign that had most certainly not been there mere seconds earlier.

He winced at the coloration of the thing, which seemed to have the same unfamiliar writing as the crate. Never before had he seen anything colored so bright, as if it glowed. Where anyone could have found the paints for such a thing he couldn't comprehend, and wasn't certain he wanted to know. The light from it must surely be some enchantment. As he blinked and tried to look at it again the words seemed to have reformed themselves into the runic script of his homeland.

Although he could barely grasp the concept of where the writing said he was, he could understand where it said he wasn't. His brother's spell had removed him not just from Akalabeth but from all of Sosaria... clear out of the known world.

"Mondain, what hast thou done..?"
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-20 02:51 pm

Debris

Leviathan had the afternoon off and had planned to spend it on the beach in the Nexus with Thomas and Childre, but as soon as they arrived she had the feeling this was one of those days that was going to be an example of the old saying about Fate laughing when you make plans. Every part of the beach a high tide could have reached was littered with pieces of metal and plastics, circuitry and scrap.

"This is sick!" Thomas complained, as he picked up one of the fragments with a disgusted look. "Who litters on a beach like this? It looks like they raided a junkyard and just... dumped it."

"This violates about a thousand environmental regulations, or it would if the Nexus wasn't outside of everyone's jurisdiction," Childre agreed, and then half-smiled when he noticed Thomas squirm. He couldn't help enjoying the other boy's annoyance at being on the same side as him in anything.

After a second, Thomas sighed. "Fine. So me and the parolee actually agree on something. But what do we do now, Levi? We can't just leave the beach like this!"

"I'm calling in a salvage team," Leviathan told the boys. "They'll clean it up and see if anything's recyclable." Taking note of the piece Thomas is holding she sent an addendum to her message off, and sighed. "Though it could take a while. That looks like antique circuitry, and that means they won't be able to use Magflies if we want to find out if there's any interesting information Metal Shark or Gate can recover."

"I guess this means we're not going swimming." Childre scowled at the messy beach.

"Hey, I'm not just leaving things like this," Thomas insisted. "There could be bits of junk under the water. I want to stay and help with the clean-up."

Leviathan nodded. If they wanted to stay, she wasn't going to talk them out of helping. She pulled one of the black pieces free of the sand and frowned at it, sending off another message. "I've called Punk, too. Some of this... it looks like an old car." If anyone could positively identify parts of an antique automobile, it would be Punk Wily.

"So some jerk blew up a car all over the beach?" Thomas just shook his head. He couldn't understand why anyone would do that.

"That's what it looks like," Leviathan said, with a shrug.

It didn't take long for Punk to arrive on the scene. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. It only took a glance to see that Leviathan's report had been accurate... the beach was one hell of a mess. He walked over to the nearest decently-sized black fragment and tugged it loose for examination.

What he saw didn't make any sense. All that damage, and the paint didn't even look scratched. The force of the explosion seemed to have torn the fender panel off the frame, with the connecting bolts being the weak point. "Huh..." He searched around until he located a nearby door panel, and frowned as he glanced over the general suggested shape.

"What is it, Punk?" Leviathan asked.

Punk just scowled at her as he picked out a spot above the high-tide line to start trying to organize the black pieces into something recognizable. "I ain't sure what it is," he said after a moment. "I mean, the car looks to maybe be an 80's Pontiac... Trans-Am or Firebird. But there's somethin' weird here." His interest in classic cars made this worse than a bad case of littering, but the mystery grated on him as well.

"Have we come at a bad time?" A voice interrupted before Leviathan could question Punk as to just what he meant by that.

She didn't recognize the voice, and looked over to see an unfamiliar man with a picnic basket, accompanied by what she suspected were his wife and two children. "Oh. Sorry, sir. We had other plans too, but when we arrived... well, you see the mess."

Edward Nigma nodded, the picnic basket over one arm now feeling even more out of place than the rest of him. While being temporarily stuck on an island gave one plenty of beach access, it also meant that sometimes you really just wanted to see a different beach. Well, at least he could say this was certainly different.

Tad Nigma definitely saw the mess, noting the scattered debris all along the beach, the man with the yellow scarf picking through it with a frown as if looking for something specific, and the other man with the red and black hair gathering up all the bits with black paint. He broke into a huge grin as he looked up at his father. "It's all in pieces, like a big puzzle. Dad? Can we stay and help put it together? Please?"

Leviathan blinked in surprise at that. "I don't know if the salvage team would bother reassembling anything, just cleaning up the scrap for recycling..."

Tad turned his pleading expression on her instead. "Aww, that's no fun. Can't we try to match some of it up?"

Before he could get an answer the man with the yellow scarf approached them and placed a hand on Leviathan's arm to get her attention.

"Cancel salvage and call for med-evac," Blues said softly, looking at the twisted blue California licence plate he'd found. There were four letters on it in bright yellow.

KARR
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-17 04:49 pm

Drinking In Alexandria

By the time he stepped back out into the hall some twenty minutes later to find a much calmer Regulus still waiting for him, Sirius had managed to get himself into a better mood. He and his little brother were going to go out to a pub, get caught up, and possibly get completely smashed. What with all that had happened between them, Sirius had never really had the chance to try to get Regulus drunk. He grinned as he adjusted the big red hat with the almost comically over-sized feather and asked, again, "Do people really dress like this here?" His grin just got wider as he saw Regulus struggle for a moment to suppress an amused smile.

"Actually, yes, they do," Regulus said. Which was certainly true enough, but left out that he'd found that particular outfit ridiculously silly the first time he'd seen it. Seeing Sirius in it was even worse, though he had to admit it confirmed his initial impressions of the outfit. It was more suited to a Gryffindor, and did make the wearer look like a complete git.

"At least I manage to make this look good," Sirius said. The red outfit bore a passing resemblance to something from the 17th century, and would have looked ridiculous and out of place at home, but he actually liked it.

Regulus had to stifle a snerk at that, and was then startled by a sudden arm around his shoulders. He quickly jerked away, and looked at Sirius in surprise. Then he frowned. "Don't, Sirius. Just... just don't."

"What's wrong?" Okay, so he knew that was a stupid question, but that didn't keep Sirius from asking it. Somehow, he had his little brother back and they were even on the same side. He still didn't know exactly what had happened, but he'd decided that he was going to try not to screw things up. Second chances were too rare to be taken lightly.

Regulus just sighed. It was best to try to establish some barriers before things got out of hand. "Sirius... I know you're only here so Mikoto can find a way for you to leave. Don't make this any more difficult than it has to be. Now, I understand you already have a PINPoint," he said, retrieving his own from a pouch on his belt. "I'll show you how to add the coordinates for Alexandria."

Sirius blinked, caught off guard by Regulus's calm acceptance of an odd piece of muggle technology as much as his words just before it. "I didn't know you were here, Regulus."

"And it doesn't change anything that I am, Sirius. Please don't pretend otherwise. Now, the coordinates -"

"Of course it changes things!"

"No, Sirius. It doesn't, and it can't. Unless you're trying to tell me you're thinking of staying here." Because if he was, they were going to have a long discussion about that.

"I... no, I can't..." There was no way he could just abandon Harry, and Remus, and everyone else and just disappear into another world.

"Good. It's nice to know you've learned not to run away from your responsibilities. Now, do try to pay attention. I'd rather finish this discussion at the pub instead of in the hallway."

Sirius still felt like he was missing something here, but maybe it would make sense soon. Some of it, he knew, could just be that Regulus wasn't in a mood to just forgive him. There were a lot of past issues there. For that matter, not all of them were his fault, but at least he was willing to listen. Trying to shift the topic a bit, he said,

"I guess that's a good idea, if we don't want Valia Pira sticking her invisible nose in. That ghost is as bad as Myrtle. She started in on me in the bathroom, explaining everything from how to adjust the water temperature to a lecture on soap." To make it worse, he'd looked around but hadn't been able to find where she'd been hiding. It had sounded like she was in one of the walls.

Regulus wasn't surprised. After Sirius had gone in the room he'd had actually told Valia Pira to give Sirius detailed step-by-step instructions for taking a bath, and not to tell Sirius she'd been instructed to do so. Not that he was about to tell Sirius that. "Valia Pira isn't a ghost. She's..," he stopped himself at the thought of how long it would take to explain a computerized artificial intelligence that was essentially the 'mind' of the building they were in. "Look, one thing at a time, Sirius, and the first thing is to get to Alexandria."

Regulus found it easier to explain the PINPoint coordinate system if he focused on the explanation and tried not to think about just who he was explaining it to. Thankfully, Sirius kept quiet as he showed him the stored coordinate string for Alexandria on his own PINPoint and explained how to enter the information and store the coordinate string on Sirius's. "Now, luckily, these devices can't splinch you. In a lot of ways they're a good deal more pleasant than apparition, but you'll still want to be careful you have correct coordinates saved."

"... just weird," Sirius muttered.

"What is?"

"You, preferring some muggle device to magic."

"If something's better, I've little reason now not to say so. I've already checked to make sure I can't be sent a howler for it. You can't tell me you're going to miss feeling like you've been squeezed through a tube."

"Well, no, not really."

"Well, then... let's see if you were paying attention." And then Regulus pushed a button on his PINPoint and was gone.

Sirius pressed the same button on his own PINPoint and immediately had to shield his eyes from the bright summer sunlight. It was a sudden difference from the cool blue artificial light of the Desert Palace. That he hadn't been out in a long while probably didn't help, but it didn't take too long for him to adjust and get a look around at the new location.

A statue of a knight with a plumed helmet and sword stood in the middle of a very large cobblestone courtyard. Plaster and wood rowhouses that wouldn't have looked that out of place in Diagon Alley surrounded the circular area, and behind them he could see the tops of windmills elsewhere in what seemed to be a fairly large town. The sky held only a few puffy white clouds and a good many more white pigeons.

Some of the latter would occasionally land to rest on the statue or the cobblestones themselves, and Sirius had to suppress an urge to change form and chase them. It was a beautiful day, and he wasn't sure he wanted to go back indoors just yet. Bright, warm sunshine. No one calling the Aurors to report the mass murderer loose on the streets. It would be way too easy for him to get used to this.

Regulus just quietly watched a few moments longer. It almost seemed like Sirius had completely forgotten he would be there, which he had to admit caused some oddly conflicted feelings. He'd quickly squelched them, instead taking note of how pale Sirius looked out in the sunlight. Had it been necessary for him to go into hiding? If the war had gone on for sixteen and a half more years, perhaps.

Then he noticed just what part of the view Sirius was currently appreciating. "... Sirius, please don't stare at the guards."

"They're girls."

"Yes, I know they are."

"They're girls in leather and metal bathing suits."

"They're the Alexandrian City Guard. They are in armor. They are also armed."

"Nice legs, too..."

Regulus fought the urge to facepalm. He was certain the guards had noticed by now. In fact, he was fairly sure one of them was trying not to laugh. He did have to admit that, given the uniform, they were likely accustomed to this kind of reaction from people not so familiar with the city. Trying to think of a way to put a stop to this embarrassment, he said, "What would your wife have to say about you ogling the local law enforcement?"

"I'm not married," Sirius said, though the reminder of law enforcement was enough to get him to stop looking at the guards. He wasn't a fugitive here, but best not to press his luck.

"How can you still not be married," Regulus managed to say after a shocked moment. "It can't be for lack of interest. I remember how you behaved in school." At least Regulus could say he'd never been caught in an embarrassing situation in a broom closet. Sirius and that Potter menace both had seemed to try to snog any girl who wouldn't say no. And could be annoyingly persistent to the ones who did say no, from what he recalled of Potter's interactions with the Evans girl...

"I never really had a chance," Sirius said, almost absently. He didn't like this particular change of topic very much. It was skirting close to things that, well, he supposed they'd have to discuss soon enough. Maybe going back indoors would be worth it as long as said indoors was a pub.

"But..," Regulus still couldn't come to terms with this. It had been over sixteen years, and even with a war... how... "What about the McKinnon girl? You had some on-and-off thing all through your seventh year. I thought that..."

"She died in 1981. Her whole family was killed." A few months before James and Lily had died, and he'd been sent to Azkaban. The pub was sounding like a better idea by the second.

Oh. Well, he'd really said the wrong thing there. "I'm sorry to hear that..." Regulus thought it might be best to change the topic, though it still disturbed him to think that their family's future was more on the line than he'd realized. He'd thought at least Sirius would have children. He started to walk, slowly, in the general direction of the pub. But before he could think of what to say, Sirius managed to turn the topic around on him.

"So, what about you and Mikoto?" Sirius asked, checking out more of the scenery as they walked.

"It's not that sort of relationship, and it never will be."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked, teasing. They'd left the courtyard for a broad street lined with similar houses.

"Yes, I'm very sure. We're not even the same species. You did notice the tail, didn't you?"

Wait, what? "Yes, but... I just thought she'd had some transfiguration accident."

"No, it's actually normal for her kind. They all have tails. And there are other, less noticeable differences." One of the ones he'd found more perplexing was when Mikoto had told him if she ever had children naturally, instead of growing them in a laboratory like her kind normally did, then she would lay eggs. It seemed so much more normal from the Black Mages than from someone who almost looked human.

"So, what's really going on with her?" For the half a moment of silence that followed, Sirius thought he wasn't going to get an answer to that.

"She's the one who found me when I arrived in the Nexus," Regulus replied, trying not to think of all the details just yet. "If she hadn't... all those people who think I'm dead wouldn't be mistaken."

Despite the summer sun, Sirius couldn't help feeling a bit chilled. There had been hints, but until then he'd almost managed to convince himself that Regulus had somehow come here on purpose... part of some sneaky Slytherin escape plan. Something in the way Regulus tensed every time he even skirted near the subject gave Sirius the bad feeling that the real story was something worse than anything he'd imagined, even when he'd thought Regulus had been killed by other Death Eaters.

"We've been studying comparative magic," Regulus said, moving away from that topic yet again, at least for now. "The basic underlying principles of magic here on Gaia are mostly compatible with that of our own world. So far all the spells I've tried from before have worked here just as they should. Gaia, though... Most of the spells we know don't have equivalents here. No one's seen need for most of them, I suppose. Gaian and Terran magic is..." Regulus trailed off for a moment, thinking of how to explain.

Sirius decided to just stay quiet and let him, for now. If he thought back, he remembered this... how Regulus could be enthusiastic about something he was studying. It was a shame he hadn't been in Ravenclaw instead. Maybe things would have been different.

"All the spells that originate here are wandless and nonverbal, but they're actually not difficult despite that. Perhaps because that's the way they're meant to be. They're almost like a controlled form of the accidental magic that children do. They're far more tiring to use, and they're not as specialized... so they do have their downsides as well. But some of them can do things that..." He trailed off again. Things that just wouldn't have been possible in their world, or at least were thought not to be possible. But that came too close to something he didn't want to discuss until he reached the point where he had to.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, before Sirius decided to break it. Thinking it better to stick to recent events, he asked, "So, if Valia Pira isn't a ghost, what is she?"

"An artificial intelligence in the Desert Palace's computer network," Regulus said, expecting that some of that likely wouldn't make any sense to Sirius. "Essentially, the building has a mind of its own."

Sirius tried to remember where he'd heard the word 'computer' before, and could only vaguely recall it was some muggle thing or other. It didn't seem to make any sense with the rest of what Regulus said. There were spells that could make things seem like they could think. Paintings were a good example. But muggles didn't have things like that. And everyone knew you couldn't combine all that muggle electrical stuff with magic.

"I'm certain you've noticed all the ornate metal filigree? All of that is part of Valia Pira's systems. Mikoto's people really weren't the sort to make things that served no purpose, even if they could make the end result decorative. Among other things, she controls the security systems. For example, she can redirect incoming PINPoint teleportation, apparition, or other similar forms of travel so that one always arrives in one of the holding cells. I expect she could prohibit or redirect outgoing travel as well, if there were a need to, or intentionally splinch intruders who tried to apparate within the Desert Palace."

"Sounds like a really complex bit of magic." It had to be. It was hard to imagine Regulus being that comfortable with it otherwise.

"It's not. Well, not entirely," Regulus replied. "Although, interestingly, Valia Pira can use magic as a part of the defenses... at least if someone's intruded far enough into the Desert Palace to try to damage her computer core. It's interesting to think a technological construct could do that, but Mikoto's said that sort of thing was quite common with her people's magitek."

Magitek? Now that was a strange and unfamiliar word. And from what it sounded like... Sirius wondered if maybe, in this world at least, you could get muggle electronics to work with magic. But... from what he'd seen of Alexandria, he hadn't really noticed anything electronic. Didn't that require all those overhead wires near the streets? Either things here were really different, or he was still missing something.

"We're here," Regulus said, causing Sirius to jump slightly. He wondered what his older brother had been thinking about to be so distracted.

The building stood at the 'corner' of a bend in the cobblestone street. It didn't really stand out at first glance, being made of the same wood and plaster as the rest of the buildings, with the same wooden shingles and diamond-patterned windows of colored glass. Above the entrance, however, was a wooden sign shaped like a pair of wine glasses, with a couple blue stars above. The weathervane on top of the building also had a blue star. A sign to the left of the door had the word 'Tavern', below that specifying that the place was the Morning Star Bar, and listing a few of the daily specials.

A bark of a laugh from Sirius got Regulus's attention, and he looked over to see his brother reading the sign. It wasn't hard to guess it was because of the place's oddly appropriate name. "That's just a coincidence," he said, as he pushed the swinging doors open. "Try and find seats, would you?" he said to Sirius, before going to talk to the barmaid.

As Sirius followed Regulus into the pub, he couldn't keep from thinking how strange it was to see Regulus in a place like this. It wasn't that the place looked rough, but that it seemed too common. It was almost cozy, with its large round wooden tables surrounded by low backless stools. The decorative stars and wineglasses theme continued above the bar, and he still found that amusing. Most of the customers looking like the sort of decent, normal people he had trouble imagining his little brother 'lowering himself' to associate with... much less be on a first name basis with the barmaid, who was apparently named Maggie. Sirius forced himself to shake off the shock and find seats. He really hoped he was going to get an explanation that would cover this.

Regulus couldn't shake growing unease as he made arrangements for lunch. He wasn't even sure what Sirius would like to eat, but he hoped there would be something he'd like. He looked far too thin, really. He'd be here a month, no matter how awkward that would be, so maybe something could be done about that at the least. He hadn't yet told Sirius how long it would take for Mikoto to finish with the portal scans. He expected that wasn't going to be a welcome topic. At least if the time difference remained constant, Sirius might only miss a bit under three years instead of over a decade and a half. Looking around, he noticed Sirius had picked a table in a corner where they'd be marginally less likely to be interrupted. It was nice to see his brother had learned some sense of discretion over the years. He wondered just how to approach some difficult topics as he headed for the table.

Sirius just grinned as Regulus took a seat. "So... Maggie?"

Regulus blinked, puzzled. Why was Sirius asking about the barmaid. "What about her?"

"You know her well enough to call her by her first name. So..."

Oh... not this again. "I don't think she has a last name, Sirius. And, no, I'm not dating the barmaid. Actually, I'm not dating at all. It hasn't really been high on my list of priorities. So, you can quit asking if I'm involved with every girl I speak to."

Sirius blinked, wondering if that was actually a sensitive topic for some reason. He'd just been kidding around, but since he'd only asked about two girls so far it made him wonder why Regulus was so defensive about it. He was briefly distracted form the thought as Maggie brought over their drinks. She'd brought the rest of the bottle with their mugs, and he made a mental note that he wasn't going to get far in getting Regulus drunk if his little brother planned on sticking with honeyed mead. Although it wasn't a bad place to start.

"If anyone should be concerned about that, it's you," Regulus said, after the barmaid had left again. "You're thirty-six years old, Sirius. Once you're home and other things have been settled, you really should try to find someone. Unless, of course, you're planning to never have children purely to spite our parents." If he was still being that stubborn and ridiculous, they were going to have a lot to discuss over the coming month.

"No, they had nothing to do with it," Sirius said. The mead wasn't bad, though he was sure he'd want something stronger soon enough. "But if you're expecting me to start putting together a list of eligible pureblood witches..."

"I'd really rather you didn't," Regulus said. Normally he didn't like to interrupt, it was impolite, but the idea made him just a little nauseous. Once, he knew, it wouldn't have bothered him in the least. That seemed like a lot longer ago than it really was.

Sirius blinked at that, not sure if he heard right. There was a brief pause in conversation as Maggie brought over a tray with soup and sandwiches.

"We'd be related to most of them, albeit distantly in most cases," Regulus said, once the barmaid had gone. "But I would think, given the people you were associating with the last I knew, that you'd have some chance of finding a muggleborn witch who might be able to put up with you." Unless they'd all been killed, which was quite a disturbing thought.

Sirius kept going over the words in his mind, trying to spot the sarcasm that should have been there and hadn't. But, no matter how he tried, he couldn't manage to reconcile what Regulus had just said with anything he could ever imagine his little brother saying. It was almost enough to send him right back to thinking he was dealing with an impostor. "Either I misheard that, or we're going to need stronger drinks than mead."

"If you think you heard me say I'd rather see you with a muggleborn witch than a pureblood, then, no, you did not mishear," Regulus replied, shifting a bit uncomfortably in his seat. That particular lesson had been one he'd learned far too late, a result of Mikoto's attempts to explain her genetics research. "As for stronger drinks, not until you've eaten something. I don't want either of us to get ill." He thought Sirius already looked like he'd been ill, and didn't want to compound things.

There were a few moments of uneasy silence, during which Sirius had to admit that the food here was actually quite good. "I still don't get it. You had the family motto painted over your bed... and now you're acting like you don't even remember it. How do you get from that to this in six months?"

Regulus was relieved to find there wasn't anything wrong with Sirius's appetite, though he wondered if that would change soon. The realization that he was out of ways to avoid this discussion had certainly affected his. He didn't know where to begin, and he wasn't sure he could talk about some of it.

"Regulus?"

Instead of an answer, Regulus retrieved something from the belt-pouch he wore and placed it on the table.

Sirius stared for a moment, and then picked it up just to be sure it was real. It was an embroidered family crest, of the sort that would have been on their dress robes all those years ago. The family motto was rendered near-illegible by partially washed-out reddish brown stains that covered most of the crest. "There's blood on it," he said, stunned, as he recognized what would have caused those stains.

"Don't worry, it's just mine," Regulus said, thinking back. He'd had no choice in the end, not one that he could live with. Only one he could die with, and he didn't even know where to start explaining. His life hadn't mattered, and he didn't think Sirius would ever understand why it had had to be that way.

There was an odd tone to Regulus's words that Sirius couldn't make any sense of. Distant, dismissive, distracted... Whatever caused it, he didn't like the implication that he wouldn't care. "That's a hell of a double standard, Reg."

"What?" Regulus said, puzzled as he tried to pull himself away from unpleasant thoughts.

"You're allowed to pester me into getting cleaned up and dressed, fuss over making sure I eat something, and I'm supposed to be just fine with this?" He put the crest back down on the table. "Regulus, what happened."

"I don't know where to start. If I start when you left us, we'll be here till next morning. I... I suppose I should just get to the point. That would be best, given your usual attention span..." Trying to talk and not think about what he was talking about wasn't easy.

Sirius noticed Regulus was shivering slightly, and he seemed to be trying to avoid something. He'd guessed that whatever happened was bad, but this was making him more uneasy by the second.

"He - Look, he's no lord, all that other nonsense sounds ridiculous, and I'm not going to pretend I'm on good enough terms with him to call him by an idiotic nickname that he made up for himself in school. His name is Riddle. Tom Riddle. And he made a Horcrux. I don't expect you'll know what that is, given your dislike of books in general and the ones in our family's library in particular."

"I know what it is," Sirius said, wishing he hadn't eaten anything yet. Their father had said certain books in the library were off limits until they were older, so Sirius had just had to sneak and skim a few pages. Some of the contents were so disgusting, it had just fueled his dislike of his family that they even had such things in the house. "How did you find out about that?" He couldn't imagine Voldemort telling just anyone. "Was that what the letter was about?"

There was an almost nod from Regulus, who looked pale and haunted. "He asked to borrow Kreacher. I wasn't told why. He nearly killed Kreacher testing the defenses he'd placed around the Horcrux. Kreacher only survived because I'd ordered him to come back to the house when he was done. When he recovered, he was able to tell me everything... and..." No, he didn't want to think about that part. He had to keep it distant, gloss it over, get past it quickly. "I stole the Horcrux, so that it could be destroyed."

"You stole..." Sirius trailed off, boggled by this latest surprise. Either Regulus was a whole lot braver than he'd ever thought his brother capable of, he was completely insane, or both. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

There was no answer. Sirius looked at his younger brother, a dreadful suspicion growing that the answer might have been 'yes'.

Regulus kept his eyes averted, looking at the tabletop but not really seeing it. "There wasn't any way to avoid it. I'd found out too many things he wouldn't have wanted known. I knew the defenses were likely to kill me, and if they didn't... what then?" And then he looked up at Sirius. "One side in the war would have thrown me in Azkaban, the other would have had me tortured and killed. And if I'd managed to run? They'd have targeted everyone I cared about until they managed force me out. Family might mean nothing to you, but I couldn't do that."

Sirius didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't tell Regulus that even that hadn't worked. Their father had disappeared shortly after Regulus, along with their uncle Cygnus. Mother had locked herself in the house and gone even madder, and was long dead now. Their grandparents had also died while he'd been in Azkaban. As far as he knew, only their cousins remained... one a Death Eater, one married to one, and one disowned. "What happened to the Horcrux?"

Regulus remembered seeing the locket, dangling from Kreacher's thin fingers. He tried to push the memory away. "I ordered Kreacher to take it, to leave and destroy it. There was no one else I could trust. With the locket gone, the D-," he frowned and corrected himself, "Riddle should have been vulnerable."

Sirius winced at that, thinking of why there hadn't been anyone except that miserable house elf. "The letter..?"

"I suppose, when I wrote it, I still had a little hope you'd see a way out that I'd missed," Regulus admitted. "But, if not, I wanted someone else to know what I'd found out. Not just about the Horcrux, but other things I'd overheard." Things about Sirius's 'friend' Pettigrew in particular, though he wasn't sure how to approach that topic. If Pettigrew had turned like the others expected he would, Regulus hoped he'd died before he'd managed to do too much damage.

So many things made sense now. Even the way Regulus had reacted all those years ago when he'd seen Padfoot in the park. Sirius remembered how he'd looked stunned for half a second, and then the uneasy and slightly unhinged laughter. He must have thought it made perfect sense to see a Grim. He'd left only a moment later, and Sirius couldn't stand thinking that Regulus had knowingly gone to what he'd thought would be his death, believing his big brother hadn't cared enough to try to save him or even just show up to say goodbye. Perhaps he'd even thought the 'Grim' was proof that Sirius wasn't going to be there.

"Your soup's getting cold," Regulus said, despite that he still didn't feel like touching his own food.

"I was there..."

"What?"

"In the park. I was there, but I thought it was a trap so..." Sirius tried to think of a way to explain, and realized the simplest way was obvious.

Regulus frowned to himself, using his spoon to poke idly at a carrot floating in his soup. He hadn't seen anyone else there. Something nudged him in the side, and he nearly fell off his stool in surprise when he looked over to see a large black Grim-like dog. A Grim. He'd seen a Grim in the park, though that one certainly hadn't been giving him the sad puppy-eyes look this one was. Could it be that... A quick glance across the table confirmed that Sirius was no longer sitting there. "You're an Animagus." Memories of overheard school nicknames suddenly made a lot more sense than they had at the time. "Of course... Padfoot." He wondered if Potter and Pettigrew were Animagi as well... but even though he really should bring up Pettigrew at some point, he didn't feel like turning the conversation towards Potter any time soon.

Padfoot wagged his tail and gave Regulus a doggy-grin. He knew he'd figure it out. Then he put his head on Regulus's knee and gave him the sad puppy look again.

Regulus didn't know how to react. Sirius had read the letter, and he hadn't just ignored it. Regulus didn't know if it would have really changed anything if they'd had a chance to talk, but that somehow didn't matter as much as knowing that at least Sirius had cared enough to show up. But that didn't change that Sirius still had to leave in a month. If Padfoot had really been a dog he might have tried scritching his ears, but it was different when he knew the dog was really Sirius. "Even as a dog you look underfed," he said, grabbing a sandwich from the platter and trying to feed it to the dog in an attempt to cover the awkwardness.

He soon found that coaxing 'Padfoot' into eating something was easier than getting Sirius to do so, as strange as that seemed. Regulus couldn't help thinking of questions he'd like to ask. While one of their professors in school had been an Animagus, McGonagall had seemed to treat anyone from Slytherin with a level of suspicion that bordered on hostility. He couldn't imagine asking her about it ever ending well.

By the second sandwich he was back to a less pleasant line of thought, namely reconsidering the current situation. In retrospect, he rather thought he'd handled things badly. Sirius was going to leave in a month no matter what happened during that month, and then it was very likely he'd never see him again. That hurt worse than if he hadn't shown up at all, even without all the additional issues. But in all the shock he'd nearly forgotten a very important lesson he'd learned over the last half-year or so. In the end, you regret the things you didn't do or say as much as the ones you did. Trying to keep Sirius at a distance might hurt less in the short run, but he knew he'd regret it more if he did.

Instead of reaching for a third sandwich, he pulled the big black dog into a tight hug. "I've missed you so much. I'm glad you were there, even if I didn't know it at the time. There were so many things I wanted to say... I hope some of them wouldn't matter after sixteen years, but... I never stopped hoping you'd come home. And, even if you didn't... You're still my brother, and you always will be." He blinked back tears and quickly added, "Whether you like it or not," in the half-hope the snarky comment would break up some of the awkwardness of the rest of the confession. Even if some disaster happened within the next few minutes, at least he'd said it. Feeling the dog squirm, he let go.

Sirius changed back, wondering how many more surprises this day was going to have. That hesitation in the park was creeping its way higher on his personal list of bad mistakes. "I was too late. I changed back, but you'd already apparated away. I was just a second too late..."

"It's not too late, Siri," Regulus said, though he could only hope that was true... and he knew that in a month, it would be too late.

The last time he remembered Regulus calling him that, they'd been kids. Once they'd started Hogwarts they'd been in different houses, had different friends, different interests... Some of Regulus's he could never have agreed with, but it seemed that wasn't going to be an issue now. They'd just grown apart, and Sirius knew that wasn't completely his fault even if the last big mistake was. Sirius kicked his stool closer to Regulus's before sitting back down. He put an arm around his little brother, grinned, and asked, "Just what are they putting in the mead here?"

"Prat," Regulus said, smiling and giving Sirius a shove that was carefully calculated to be far too light to actually push him away. It was actually a relief that Sirius had broken up the uncomfortable mood.

"You're right, the soup's getting cold," Sirius said, making a bit of a face after a spoonful and then casting warming charms on both their bowls. And if Regulus was set against any stronger drinks until they'd both eaten something, then it was his turn to start pestering about that. Regulus had barely touched his food, and once he had to start explaining everything Regulus had missed in the last sixteen and a half years Sirius was certain he'd need something stronger than mead. Sirius thought he still had a little longer before that, as Regulus's story seemed to him to be missing an ending. "So, how did you escape?"

Regulus tensed, and nearly dropped the spoon he'd just picked up. "I... I didn't."

"What?" That made no sense to Sirius, though it seemed clear he'd asked the wrong thing... Regulus had gone pale again, and seemed strangely distracted. "But... You're here. You're all right..."

"Sirius..," Regulus shook his head as if to clear it, trying to focus. He picked up the stained crest from where he'd left it on the table. "Please understand that there are some things that... I just can't speak about. I can't even think of it. I... I was there, and then I was in a bed in the Desert Palace. Ask Mikoto later, she'll be able to fill in the details better than I can." He placed the embroidered patch back in the belt pouch he wore, hoping Sirius wouldn't press on the topic.

"All right," Sirius said, keeping an arm around Regulus. "The important thing is that you did get out of there, somehow. Was there anything else you wanted to tell me, or is it my turn."

"Well," Regulus hesitated for a moment, poking at his soup with the spoon again without actually eating any of it and stifling the thought that Mother would have scolded him by now. "I would hope this is unnecessary after sixteen years, but... about your friend Pettigrew..."

"He's not my friend," Sirius growled.

Regulus nodded. "I'd overheard... well, some thought it wouldn't be a year before he turned. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You would have warned us." Sirius winced at the thought of finding out about Peter before the rat had become a spy. A year before he'd started passing information to Voldemort, and two years before... ... Oh, hell.

Regulus had noticed that Sirius's moods seemed just a little unstable, but that hadn't prepared him for this. Sirius had pulled away with a horrified look on his face and despite his already unhealthy pallor, had somehow gone even paler. Regulus wasn't certain he wasn't about to be sick. "Sirius?"

"If we'd known not to trust him..." Sirius muttered, barely a whisper. Because it wasn't just James and Lily... How many deaths had Pettigrew's treachery caused before that? The McKinnons? Most of the Bones family? The Prewett brothers? There was likely no way to know, short of torturing it out of the rat. Maybe not even then.

Regulus decided he'd have to trust that Maggie could be discreet as he waved the barmaid over. "I believe my brother is in need of something stronger than mead. I'm not familiar with the drinks here, so perhaps you could suggest something."

While Maggie blinked at the situation, she otherwise behaved professionally enough that Regulus was fairly certain there wouldn't be any difficulty. And none of the other patrons in the Morning Star Bar were taking any great notice, wrapped up as they were in their own problems. He already had some suspicions as to what might have caused this, though seeing this sort of reaction from Sirius was still a shock. Clearly, Pettigrew hadn't been found out quickly enough to prevent some catastrophic harm. To make it worse, now that he thought of it, 'he's not my friend' wasn't past tense. Pettigrew was still alive.

After the barmaid had gone to retrieve something with a dangerously high alcohol content, Regulus tried to see what else could be done. "Sirius... I don't know what it is that Pettigrew did, but..."

"It's my fault..."

"It most certainly is not," Regulus snapped. That kind of thinking needed brought to a quick end. "What Pettigrew did is Pettigrew's fault. I know that sounds simplistic, but you shouldn't blame yourself for his poor decisions... or mine. I had little reason to believe you'd read that letter, much less actually show up. I clearly underestimated Pettigrew's importance and ability as well... I thought, if he turned, he'd be quickly found out." I thought it was a problem I could safely leave to you, he didn't add aloud. There was no need to make things worse. "Perhaps I should have sent you a howler, but... there would have been the risk of someone overhearing."

Maggie brought over something that was apparently meant to be taken in small doses, judging from the glasses that arrived with the bottle, before going back to the rest of her work. Regulus still had some misgivings about strong liquor, but calming draughts weren't available on Gaia.

Sirius poured himself a glass and downed it in a single gulp. Regulus's attempt to take on some of the blame hadn't really helped, though at least it had reminded him that everyone had underestimated Peter. Even if he'd been told then, would he have believed it? "We knew there was a spy. By '81 we knew someone had been leaking information to the Death Eaters for at least a year. We'd had too many losses, too many things that went wrong. James and I thought it was Remus..."

"Lupin? Why?" A second later Regulus thought of one obvious reason. "Because he's a werewolf?"

Sirius wondered if you could still call it a surprise when you were starting to get used to being surprised. "How long have you known about that?"

"I had my suspicions in First Year, but didn't really confirm it until Second. I spent most of that year trying to decide what to do about it." Ideas that had ranged from just keeping it quiet, to getting Lupin expelled, all the way to shoving Lupin off the Astronomy Tower if need be. "I didn't really like the idea of you sharing a dorm with a dangerous beast, but... in the end I decided he was reasonably harmless with proper precautions and didn't tell anyone."

Second Year for Regulus would have been Third Year for the Marauders, and Sirius remembered they'd only just started looking into the possibility of becoming Animagi. They'd soon learned they had a lot of transfiguration to learn if they wanted to do that, and it had taken them until Fifth Year to pull it off. But after that... It had been wonderful. And he'd thought it would never change.

Sirius seemed to have lapsed back into silence that didn't seem mired in guilt or depression, so Regulus decided to just let him be and keep a quiet watch while he ate a sandwich.

The soup was gone before Sirius spoke again. "It wasn't just that. Remus kept disappearing, and he wouldn't tell us where he was going or what he was doing. I've never held his condition against him, but... we thought maybe it was getting to him."

Regulus frowned slightly at that, picking over it in his mind. "I'm not sure I would have jumped to the same conclusion," he admitted. "Lupin never seemed like a fool, and any spy with even a fraction of sense would have an alibi for such obvious absences. I'd be more likely to assume he had a girlfriend he didn't want you teasing him about, than to think he was a traitor."

There was a bark of a laugh from Sirius at that suggestion. "We tried a few times to set Moony up, but he always squirmed out of it. No, it turned out he was trying to make contacts in the werewolf community, but on Dumbledore's orders. And he was told not to tell anyone else."

Regulus could see where part of that made sense. Most of the werewolves had tended to side with Voldemort, given that changes in certain laws would have been a benefit to them. The opposition hadn't really been promising anything. Trying to get some of them to at least stay neutral would have been a very sensible strategic move. And keeping it secret, when it was known there was a spy in the Order... Regulus frowned slightly. That he wasn't so sure about. On the surface, it made sense not to risk the spy finding out any more than was unavoidable... but it seemed to have done more harm than good. If they'd known for a year, finding the spy should have had a higher priority. Understanding why Lupin was disappearing would seem to rule him out, or at least provide evidence in his favor, so why have him conceal it from his friends? Except... Pettigrew had been one of his friends.

"Regulus?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry... I didn't mean to seem like I was ignoring you. I was just thinking... It's odd that Lupin would have been told to conceal what he was doing in a way that would have made him look more suspicious to the rest of the Order. Unless, of course, Dumbledore might have suspected one of the other Marauders was the spy..."

"It wouldn't surprise me if he did," Sirius said with a sigh. Everyone had thought it was him in the end. Most of Wizarding Britain still did. And even though they were wrong about that, it had still been his plan that had given Peter the chance to betray James and Lily.

"But... Why was Riddle still there? Why wasn't he dead before Pettigrew could become a spy?"

"I'm not sure, but... I think the Horcrux hasn't been destroyed yet," Sirius said. It would explain so much, like how Voldemort had survived having his own killing curse backfire on him.

"Kreacher would have done as he was told, Sirius. I know you don't like him, but - "

"I never said he didn't try. That explains him, too... Locked up in the house and trying to follow an order he can't manage to pull off, it's no wonder he's gone mad." As far as Sirius was concerned, the house elf had always been a miserable little toerag... but he had to admit Kreacher was more unhinged than he remembered the elf being when he was a child. He'd put it down at the time to solitude and old age.

"No... I... Why wouldn't he be able to destroy it, Sirius? I never meant to do that to him..." The idea that he'd told Kreacher to do something that he couldn't do made Regulus feel almost ill. But why would it have been that hard to destroy the locket?

"I don't know. We'll just have to find out... But it's the only thing that makes sense. Voldemort... Riddle... he should have died in 1981."

"He should have died a good bit earlier than that, if you ask me," Regulus commented, irritated it had taken that long for even a botched attempt.

"I really wish he had," Sirius said, and poured himself another shot from the liquor bottle.

"I think you may want to go easy on that, Sirius..," Regulus said, frowning slightly at the bottle's label. "It's something from Condie Petie, and from what I've heard the dwarves are very heavy drinkers."

"It's not bad stuff," Sirius said, this time only downing half the shot glass for now. "Flavor's a bit strange. Any idea what they put in it?"

"Judging from the smell, possibly gysahl greens. It's a plant native to this world. Chocobos really like them."

"Chocobos?"

"Giant birds. Most don't fly, and they're used to pull carts or are ridden like horses." It was strange, now that Regulus stopped to think of it, how quickly he'd started to become accustomed to the differences on this world. But that was no reason to get off track... "What happened in 1981?"

"Everything," Sirius said, and finished the rest of the glass. "There was a prophesy about the Dark Lord's defeat... James and Lily had to go into hiding. So did the Longbottoms..."

Regulus raised a hand slightly as if he were in class, to get Sirius to pause for just a moment. "Lily ...Evans?" He couldn't think of another Lily, at least not offhand, and wanted to be certain.

"Potter, actually. She and James were married in '78. That was before you... I mean, I thought you would have known..."

"I had other things on my mind than keeping track of James Potter's romantic interests. How did that ever happen? He didn't use a love potion on her, did he?"

"Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"Because I remember her calling him a toerag repeatedly, saying she'd sooner date the Giant Squid, hexing him on multiple occasions - including one time that put him in the hospital wing for nearly a week. And, my personal favorite, resorting to muggle fisticuffs and punching him in the face in the Great Hall in front of almost everyone in school. It was a great source of entertainment and, if she hadn't been a muggleborn, I might have sent her a thank you card. I can't understand how she would have gone from that to marrying him."

"James took a pretty hard hit to the ego when his parents were killed... You do remember that, right?"

"Yes, I do," Regulus said.

Noticing Regulus's tone and expression had gone cool and formal again, Sirius frowned. "You weren't involved, were you?" He was almost certain Regulus had been Marked that same year.

"No, and neither was anyone else in the family. I asked around as soon as I'd heard, but even Bellatrix had the sense not to cross that line."

"Line? What are you talking about?" Sirius frowned when Regulus didn't answer. "We thought they were killed because they refused to side with the Death Eaters, and James planned to join the Order just out of school... if there's something more to it, Regulus, tell me."

"Everything really does have to be spelled out for you, doesn't it," Regulus said, and sighed. "It was also a warning that even our family wouldn't be off limits if we supported the 'wrong side'."

"You just said no one in the family was involved," Sirius growled.

"No one except Grandfather Pollux's baby sister. James Potter's mother, Dorea," Regulus snapped back. If there's one thing he could never stand, it was how little Sirius seemed to care about their family. More than that, he'd seemed to hate all of them... while at the same time forgetting that when he'd run away, he'd still been with family. All the pieces were right in front of him, and he'd never put it all together.

Sirius just gaped for a moment, and then blinked. He'd been made to copy out the family tree so many times when he was little, but he'd done his best in later years to blot out as much of the memory as he could. It wasn't exactly a surprise that he and James were distantly related, since most pureblood families were... but for James' mother to actually be a Black had completely slipped his mind. Meanwhile, to add to his shock, Regulus was reaching for the liquor bottle.

"I took the Mark shortly afterward," Regulus said, looking at the drink he'd just poured and uncertain if he wanted to actually ingest something that smelled like that. "Someone had to... to prove you were an anomaly, to prevent further repercussions." Before he could talk himself out of it again, he tried to gulp down the drink... and nearly choked on it. It was vile, and it burned... and though it certainly wasn't the most horrid thing he'd ever drank in his life, he was immediately concerned it could cause flashbacks to that if he had any more. He resolved to stick to mead from that point on.

Sirius glared at Regulus. Was he really trying to blame his being a Death Eater on Sirius leaving their crazy family and trying to have a life of his own? "You would have done that anyway."

"Would I? Did you even notice the only one in the family who had was Bellatrix? It's nice to know you think I'm as much of a fanatic as she is. I won't deny that I believed in the cause, until I saw what was actually being done for it... But Father considered such direct involvement too risky, and beneath us. Mother was worried sick, especially since you were gone. I'd had some warnings from Cissy, and I... I was sixteen years old, Sirius. I wasn't even legally of age. Fool that I was, I actually thought it was a special honor to have the chance to redeem our family's reputation. Don't tell me you're stupid enough to believe the same."

Maybe it was the two shots of dwarven liquor, but Sirius found himself having trouble untangling just who Regulus was angry at for all of that... himself, Sirius, the other Death Eaters, all of the above? He tried to focus on what parts of it made sense. "I'd never think you were like Bella."

"Well, there's at least that small comfort, then." An awkward silence followed for a few moments before Regulus decided to prompt Sirius back onto topic. "Well? You said the Longbottoms and the Potters," he had to suppress lingering disbelief, as he still couldn't picture James Potter married to Lily Evans, "had to go into hiding..."

Sirius nodded. "The prophesy mentioned a child born at the end of July, and Alice and Lily were both pregnant. Neville Longbottom was born July 30th, and Harry a day later on the 31st, so it could have meant either of them."

It took effort to hide his distaste at the idea that James Potter had managed to breed. Regulus could only hope the child took after their mother.

"It was my idea," Sirius said, looking at the liquor bottle and trying to hold off the urge to pour a third drink. He needed to be coherent enough to finish this. "They used the Fidelus Charm. It was my idea to use Peter as the Secret Keeper, but let everyone think it was me."

"I see. Pettigrew revealed their location, didn't he." Regulus didn't even really need an answer to know it was true. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said. He understood now why Sirius had suddenly reacted so badly to their conversation. Of course Sirius would take it particularly hard if something happened to James Potter, he thought, and then tried to tell himself there really was no sense in being jealous of the dead.

"I don't think I believe you are."

Regulus almost found it a little amusing, much like when Sirius had caught on to the Nexus time differences. Sometimes his brother wasn't a complete idiot. "I am. I'd rather not see Riddle gain any kind of advantage, and I detest the idea that Pettigrew actually managed to do as much harm as he did. Worse, that he did so in a way that, unless I completely mis-guess, you're at least partially blaming yourself for. It was not your fault he was, shockingly, good enough at being a spy that you didn't realize what he was."

"It was still my idea."

"Yes, and it was a good one," Regulus said. He was actually a bit pleased to hear of Sirius coming up with something almost sneaky enough to be worthy of a Slytherin. "You would have been the obvious choice in that situation, where Pettigrew... well, clearly he had more of a knack for being underestimated than either of us realized. Had Pettigrew not been a traitor, I expect the deception would have worked brilliantly. You've managed to twist it around and think you came up with a horrible plan, when the real problem was that Pettigrew was a horrible friend."

"That's an understatement," Sirius said, thinking of all the rat had done.

"For what it matters, you have my condolences on the rest as well," Regulus said, having thought the full matter over. "I won't pretend I liked James Potter... But while I would have been amused to hear of him being turned into a budgerigar, or better yet forced to relocate to Australia for the rest of his life, I wouldn't have wanted him dead."

The mental image of James as a budgie was just too ridiculous, and Regulus being the one to suggest it only made it more so. Sirius only barely managed not to laugh, and immediately felt guilty that he almost had.

"I know you might find that hard to believe, but... He was your family. I had to accept that a long time ago. And I know how much it would... how much it must have hurt you to lose him."

Even after two glasses of dwarven liquor, Sirius could spot the what Regulus hadn't said that time. The teachers at Hogwarts had sometimes said he and James were as close as brothers. They never said that of him and Regulus, and they actually were brothers. James had been family, and Regulus hadn't... or at least that seemed to be how Regulus saw it. The worst part was, Sirius couldn't even say he was wrong.

"It's worse that his wife and child were involved. That should never have happened..." What he'd once thought about muggleborns had been such a colossal mistake, and with that particular misconception destroyed Regulus could easily admit that Lily Evan's death was tragic. From what little he'd seen, she'd been a very talented witch. And children should always be off limits, no matter that he'd once associated with those who might have thought a half-blood should be drowned at birth like a mongrel pup.

"Harry survived."

"Well, that's some good news, then."

"Lily died to protect him, and when V- ... Riddle went to kill him, the Killing Curse backfired. He should have died when it did."

"But he didn't," Regulus could see that was what Sirius had meant earlier. The locket had to still exist. There weren't exactly a lot of ways, even in theory, to survive the Killing Curse. In fact, the situation covered the only one he could think of... and one that he wouldn't have thought would be quite that effective. But one other detail didn't make sense... "Lily's death protected Harry, but... How can that be, Sirius? I've heard of the possibility of certain kinds of protection like that, but it requires someone to willingly sacrifice themselves for another when otherwise they would have survived. And I can't imagine any reason why Riddle would have wanted to let her live, or even allow the option... He's always found killing those who get in his way to be the simplest solution, and she was a muggleborn besides."

"I don't know. I... I can't imagine that, either, but something must have happened. By the time I got there... I'd gone to check on Peter, and he was missing, but there weren't any signs of a struggle. I went straight to the house, but it was half destroyed, and James and Lily were already dead. Hagrid had found Harry upstairs in his crib. I offered to take him, but Hagrid said he had orders to take him to Dumbledore. So... I went after Peter."

Regulus stayed quiet as Sirius spoke. He knew with some things it was best just to get past it and hope no one interrupted because then you only had to think about it that much longer. That didn't mean he didn't already have some disturbing questions. Hagrid had managed to get there before Sirius... with orders to take Harry. That meant Dumbledore had already known Harry's parents had been killed. That idiot half-giant couldn't apparate, he was certain. He wasn't even sure the big oaf could do magic at all... certainly not legally, since he'd been expelled. Regulus remembered hearing rumors that he'd actually killed another student and that Dumbledore had somehow kept him out of Azkaban. Why Hagrid was even allowed on the school grounds was something he'd never understood. He was certainly not someone Regulus would have left a baby with, even if the baby was Potter's, and doing so only showed how disturbed Sirius's state of mind must have been. There was something else about the whole thing that just felt wrong, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it yet.

"It was the next afternoon before I caught up to that rat," Sirius said. He hadn't eaten or slept in that time, and wondered now if maybe he should have. Maybe Peter wouldn't have gotten away if he'd been just a little faster. "I thought I had him... He started yelling that I'd betrayed James and Lily, cut off one of his own fingers, then blew the street apart. He disappeared into the sewer with the rest of the vermin. Left behind a finger, his bloody robes, and twelve dead muggles."

Regulus finally worked out that Sirius wasn't just calling Pettigrew a rat because of his betrayal. 'Wormtail'... of course. It must have been his animagus form, which left little doubt that Potter had been one as well. As for the rest, he tried to imagine the scene. He'd often thought of Pettigrew as a weak bully, at most the sort who'd betray his friends with words but never to their faces. That degree of violence only made it all the clearer how easy it was to underestimate Pettigrew. Apparently, he was a good deal more dangerous than Regulus had ever thought he could be, at least when cornered. The reasoning behind the action was a little more confusing. "He wanted it to look like he'd died..? Is that how he escaped?"

Sirius nodded. "Everyone thought I'd killed him... along with all those muggles, and betraying James and Lily to Voldemort. Peter spent twelve years hiding as a pet rat, and I spent twelve years in Azkaban."

Regulus was stunned for a moment. Though he had to accept that long-term dementor exposure would explain a lot of the things about Sirius that hadn't made sense, the idea as a whole was almost painfully ridiculous. "No, that just... That doesn't make any sense, Sirius. I don't care what evidence Pettigrew might have managed to concoct, the idea of you betraying James Potter to... him... is the most ludicrous thing I've heard all week, and given the nature of the Nexus I encounter quite a lot of unbelievable things in a week."

"You don't believe it." Sirius had thought he was already past getting this kind of surprise from Regulus.

"Of course not. It's completely ridiculous," Regulus said. "I can believe some of it... As much as I'd like to think otherwise, being sent to that place would explain a few things... but... that can't possibly be the reason."

"It was." This was almost surreal. Everyone believed he'd done it. Everyone. Enough to where Crouch had gotten away with tossing him in Azkaban without even a trial.

"It would never hold up, Sirius. I can't understand why you'd make one of your pranks out of this, unless it's to taunt me because... Look, I know I've fallen for some fairly stupid things in the past, but I'm not that much of a fool."

Even Remus had believed it... though he'd believed Remus was the spy, so they were even there. But Regulus, who Sirius hadn't really spoken to since his little brother was fourteen years old, thought the whole thing had to be a prank. Sirius just couldn't help it. He started laughing so hard he nearly fell off his stool.

Regulus gave a slightly forced, exasperated smile at this proof of his brother's sense of humor... which had apparently become more twisted over the years. "Really, I'm disappointed you'd try to fool me with something that unbelievable. Even if some might think it had to be you because they thought you were the Secret Keeper, that would fall apart the moment you had the chance to tell anyone of the switch."

"That is where it falls apart," Sirius agreed, still grinning at this.

"What was it really? Something to do with that motorbike of yours, I'd expect. Although twelve years for a Statute of Secrecy violation is troublingly excessive, unless that was part of the joke..."

"It wasn't a joke," Sirius said, managing to sober up in mood if not in actuality. "I didn't get a chance to tell anyone."

"What? Sirius..."

"The DMLE pulled me off the street, and I think I was in Azkaban by nightfall... though I can't really be sure. There were no questions, no trial, and no plans to ever let me out. I escaped twelve years later to go after Peter, but he got away again."

"How could they..," Regulus started, shocked that it apparently wasn't a joke and offended that the Ministry would dare send a Black to Azkaban without even a trial. He cut off when he remembered a very possible 'how'. "Crouch?"

Sirius just nodded, pouring himself a third drink and just looking at it for the moment.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

Sirius just looked up and grinned at that. "I'm not." The drink was temporarily forgotten as he attempted to subject Regulus to hair-ruffles.

As Regulus tried to literally squirm out of this latest indignity, he spotted someone walk into the Morning Star Bar wearing a cloak of a sort he immediately considered suspiciously concealing. Noticing a detail of the drape of the fabric, he fought the urge to facepalm. Any brief hopes that the person wasn't looking for him fell apart when they headed towards the table. "If you're trying to avoid recognition, you may want to do a better job of hiding your tail, Zidane," he said, as soon as they were close enough to hear without him having to speak loudly enough to alert the whole pub. He considered it a small victory when the ex-thief jumped a bit, muttered a swearword, and started looking to see if his tail was poking out of the cloak in any way.

Surprised at company, even though he shouldn't have been in a public place, Sirius let go of Regulus to look at the stranger. He already felt uneasy, but maybe that was just the reminder of other people in dark cloaks his brother had associated with. The cloaked young man was still trying to make sure the rest of the bar patrons didn't see his face, but was making no such attempt to conceal his appearance from Regulus or Sirius. He actually looked a lot like a slightly older male version of Mikoto. Between that and the mention of a tail... maybe they were related? They had to be to look that much alike. And what kind of strange name was 'Zee-don' anyway? At least 'Mikoto' sounded like it might be Japanese, even if she hadn't looked it.

"A lot of people where I came from wear cloaks on a daily basis," Regulus said, deciding to mercifully end Zidane's confusion as to how the disguise had failed. "I've learned to recognize when someone might be hiding something beneath one."

Sirius took advantage of his brother's brief distraction and emptied the contents of his shot glass into Regulus's mead.

"Hey, is it my fault if I'd like to visit a bar without getting the city guard and maybe half the Knights of Pluto involved?" Zidane said, helping himself to a seat. "Who's this?"

That comment hadn't eased Sirius's worries one bit. What was Regulus doing associating with people who might attract the city guard if they were seen? Though he couldn't help but note that, if they were anywhere else, he'd have a similar problem if he went anywhere public.

"My older brother Sirius. Sirius, this is Zidane. He's the youngest of Mikoto's two older brothers."

"What did you do that would have the guards in here?" Sirius asked, deciding to just cut to the point.

"He looks kind of old to be your brother, but I guess that explains why you both have the same weird accent," Zidane said to Regulus with a grin, before addressing Sirius's question. "Well, it all started when I kidnapped the princess..."

"And a few years later, he married her," Regulus added, ruining Zidane's dramatic pause. "If the guards were involved, they would be here to protect him, not arrest him. At least not this time."

"They oughtta know I can take care of myself. But, speaking of Mikoto... she's still avoiding me."

"It isn't really avoidance," Regulus said. "It's more that she doesn't think you have anything to talk about. You could always try sending a letter."

"I thought she kicked the moogles out of the Desert Palace."

"Mojito and Mogsam have visitor access if any mail needs delivered, they just don't live there," Regulus replied, wondering why his mead tasted just a little odd. "I believe they've been staying in the Mages' Village with Mogryo. Mimosa and Mooel also have access, in case anything has to be physically delivered from Oeilvert."

"Hey, have some pity on the new guy, here," Sirius interrupted. "What's a moogle?"

Zidane blinked in surprise in that.

Regulus sighed. "We used to use owls to deliver mail. There weren't any moogles." He always hated explaining the differences between the world he'd come from and Gaia, if only because the reminders could get depressing.

"You're kidding. Even Terra had moogles..." Zidane trailed off for a moment, wondering if, perhaps, the moogles had come from Terra in the first place. And wouldn't owls end up crapping everywhere? Birds weren't exactly known for continence.

"Moogles are..."

Zidane snapped out of it and cut Regulus off. "Hey, I've got this." He pulled out a small carved flute and played a brief scaled tune on it.

Regulus frowned a bit. It didn't seem right to bother the moogles unless you had a letter for them or some other business. Although he supposed making sure Sirius was added to Mognet records for the month he'd be here would count as a legitimate reason... and he couldn't really visit either of Alexandria's moogles in their usual
locations.

Sirius was just confused, wondering what the flute was supposed to do. Then something small, white, and furry barreled through the pub's swinging doors and made right for their table.

"Can I help you, kupo?"

Regulus could see Zidane grin and guessed he was about to tell the poor moogle no. It seemed best to beat him to a reply. "Yes... I don't think we've actually met, but I'm Regulus Black. My brother Sirius is visiting, and I think it might be a good idea to add him to the Mognet records in case there's any need to send him a letter while he's here."

The moogle nodded. "Haven't met, but I know you from records. I'm Kupo, from the bell tower."

"Yes... I haven't been there, I... It has a rather nice view of the docks, from what I've heard. But aren't you worried about leaving your post unattended?"

Kupo hmmed thoughtfully and then nodded. "One of Moguta's children is visiting, but I need to return soon, kupo."

Sirius was still staring at the creature. It was about the size of a house elf, but chubby and covered in white fur. Its face was somewhere between that of a koala and a cat, it had bat-like wings that seemed too small to be functional, and a single small red puff on an antenna-like stalk right on the top of its head. On top of that, it was talking.

"This is your brother?" Kupo asked, just to verify. He knew who Zidane was, so it was really just simple elimination.

"That's a moogle?" Sirius asked, at the same moment.

"Yes," Regulus said in reply to both, and then had to grab Sirius's wrist before his brother could try poking Kupo. "At least try to pretend you have manners, Sirius."

"What, do they bite?" Sirius asked, watching as the moogle pulled a book and a large feather quill seemingly out of nowhere at all.

"No," said Zidane, "but I did have one threaten to stab me once."

"Both of you are being extremely rude," Regulus said, before just shaking his head and looking to the moogle. "I am sorry about that. Some people clearly weren't raised with any manners, and others prefer to pretend they weren't."

Kupo just nodded, and then looked up from scribbling in the book to give Regulus a smile. "Some also lucky we're professional, not going to redirect their letters to Gargan Roo." A moment longer and he'd finished writing in the book, blotted the ink, and slammed it shut. Both book and quill were vanished away to wherever they'd come from. "Moguo still keeps a sharp knife," he added, almost warningly, to Zidane.

"Moguo needs to learn to take a joke," was Zidane's response, not in the least concerned.

"What did you do to them?" Sirius asked, curious.

Zidane half-shrugged dismissively, before saying, "I guess they just don't like it if you use the flute to keep calling them... for no reason... about seventeen times in a row..."

"No, we don't," said Kupo, who seemed a bit wary about offering the flute he was now holding to Sirius, in light of the latter's amusement.

"I think I can find more interesting things to do than torment moogles," Sirius said.

"He'll be here a month at the longest," Regulus added, trying to reassure the moogle despite that the reminder made him feel uncomfortable. "At least if Mikoto's estimates are correct, and they usually are."

Kupo nodded and handed the flute over. "I should get back to the bell tower now. I hope you have a nice evening, kupo."

Sirius frowned as he stuffed the flute in a pocket and watched the moogle leave the pub. He didn't like the sound of that at all... not when he put it together with Regulus being here six months and that ending up sixteen years. He tried to do the math for how long he'd really be away, and just couldn't get the numbers to make any sense... Maybe they would when he'd sobered up, but all he knew for now was that it would be way too long to be gone when there was a war going on. After one more failed attempt at mental math, he decided maybe he'd better join Regulus in sticking to mead for the rest of the evening.

Zidane watched the moment of awkward silence and tried to puzzle out the reason. After failing at that, he just shrugged. "Hope I didn't interrupt you two catching up, or whatever..."

"By the time you arrived we were just discussing how apparently everyone in Britain has become a complete moron since I left," Regulus said, looking at the inside of his empty mug and thinking about refilling it. "I think we'll find time to cover anything else during the coming month."

"I thought you weren't from Gaia... that just proves it," Zidane said. He knew every place on Gaia, from Treno to the hidden ruins of Madain Sari, but he'd never heard of 'Britain'. It didn't come as much of a surprise, combined with the stories of where Mikoto had disappeared to and other details in Vivi's letters.

"She can't figure it out faster than a month?" Sirius asked. "I don't want to get back and find out I've been missing for years."

Regulus decided he was definitely refilling the mug, and it might be necessary to have Maggie bring over more mead. "She's looking into a way to tear a hole in reality, Sirius. I've no idea how she even expects it to work, though I suppose the offer at least kept you from wandering off in the Nexus and potentially ending up mindcontrolled by alien slugs... If she says it will take a month to analyze the scans she made, then it's going to take a month. I'm sorry you have to be trapped here that long when you're clearly in a hurry to leave."

Sirius was left going over the conversation in his mind again, wondering just what he'd said to set off another round of Regulus being a snarky brat. Maybe it was the time missed? Here he was complaining about missing two or three years, and Regulus had missed sixteen of them. Though, he couldn't understand why, after that, Regulus wouldn't be in a better mood about going home. "Sorry, Reg... I know it won't be as long as you've missed..."

"It might, and it might not," Regulus said. He knew Sirius had to leave, but it was irritating to find him in such a hurry to do so. "There isn't a stable connection to the Nexus, so the amount of time skipped isn't constant. There really isn't a way to know... You could miss years, or no time at all."

"Sounds like there's nothing you can do about it, so you might as well enjoy the vacation." The end of Zidane's tail swished under the robe he was wearing as he thought over the possibilities, while still wondering about some of the other things that had been said.

"I still don't like it," Sirius said, "but I guess you're right."

"Or course I'm right," said Zidane with a grin. "Maybe Mikoto's planning something like the Shimmering Island portal," he added. "That was the one that used to connect Gaia and Terra. I don't know how it worked either, but she might." Anything that kept her distracted from Kuja was a good thing. He still felt that releasing the other Genome just wasn't safe. Not safe for who was something he wasn't all that certain on, but definitely not safe. And because he just couldn't fight off the curiosity any longer, "... What did you mean about alien slugs?"

"Do you remember Natasha?"

"Yeah," Zidane replied, though he only barely did. "Wait... Does this have anything to do with that really weird letter Mikoto sent me about 'containment procedures'?" Getting any sort of message from Mikoto had been strange enough, made worse when it turned out to be a list of detailed instructions regarding someone he'd thought his sister was almost friends with.

"I'd expect so. It's good to know you paid attention."

"Are either of you going to fill me in?" Sirius asked.

"I would, if I had any idea what this was about," Zidane said. "The only time Mikoto's visited, she brought Vivi, the younger Magelets, and two new friends with her. Regulus here was one of them, and the other was a woman named Natasha. Not too long ago I got a letter from her saying that if I saw Natasha again, to lock her up for at least seventy-two hours, preferably keep her tied up or restrained, make sure there were at least two guards and she was never left alone with anyone, and securely contain anything that crawled out of her ears."

"Like a mind-controlling alien slug?" Sirius asked, as he looked to Regulus and hoped for the rest of what had to be a hell of a story.

Regulus sighed. It didn't look like he could get out of further explanation regarding that whole mess. And, on the whole, there were worse topics.
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-17 04:03 pm

Brothers

Waking up in a strange bed was better than waking up in a cell, though it wasn't that great once he'd had half a second to remember how he'd arrived here. The gilded trim everywhere was a good hint that he was still in the same building, though he reluctantly admitted it was possible more than one building had been designed with the same bad taste. The red and gold Gryffindor colors of the room didn't really do much to make it less gaudy, though at least that kept it from looking like something his Mother would have liked.

He thought over earlier events, and came to the conclusion that they still didn't make any great amount of sense. He was still almost certain this was some kind of a trap, though, and that meant the first thing to do was get out of here.

There were clothes on a table near the bed, but he was still dressed in his own clothing and ignored them. Looking around the room found no windows, but there was a door a bit more normal than the 'stained glass' one earlier, though still lacking a doorknob or handle of any kind. It opened when he approached it, leading to what he suspected was some sort of sitting room just as eye-blindingly gilded as the rest of this place. Two doors from there, but the more normal one led to a bathroom. Which didn't seem like a bad thing, now that he thought about it.

A few minutes later he was left facing the last door, which was another of those stained glass archways. He reached to touch the glass, but nothing happened. Alohamora was ineffective as well, though it did make the colors of the archway ripple strangely for a moment.

He almost laughed at that. It looked like he was in a cell after all! Well, not for long! Anything that looked that much like glass had to be breakable...


A few thrown objects and a minor blasting curse later and Sirius found himself reevaluating the fragility of anything in this crazy place. The 'door' had even rippled when the blasting curse had hit it, and seemed to just absorb the spell. He didn't know what it was made of any more, but it certainly wasn't glass. He was distracted from coming up with the next plan for getting past the door by the sound of approaching voices on the other side of it.

"I did warn you that time is not necessarily constant between realities."

"I know. I just didn't expect to see... that sort of an example."

There was a pause, and Sirius guessed Mikoto didn't have anything to say to that. There was something about that girl that was almost as weird and creepy as this whole huge, ornate, empty place.

"I'll be in my lab," he heard Mikoto say after a moment. Then it was quiet again. Sirius took a position near the door, and stayed quiet as well. As soon as the other door was opened, he planned to make a break for it.

Except that it didn't open.

"If I unlock the door, are you going to behave yourself?"

Whoever they were, they even sounded like Regulus. Polyjuice would explain the voice, but they'd have to be a good actor to get that prim and condescending tone right. Or maybe just another Slytherin. Lots of them were poncy, arrogant little snots back in school. A few good pranks fixed it for a while... He didn't even realize his mind had wandered and he hadn't replied until the person on the other side of the door spoke again.

"... Never mind. That was always far too much to ask of you, wasn't it. How about if I settle for no more unprovoked attacks?"

"Maybe if you explain why you look an awful lot like someone you just can't be."

"You always were rubbish at seeing the obvious, Sirius."

"Drop it. You're not Regulus. You can't be, because he's..."

"... Dead. Yes. I know. I happen to have some very clear memories about that matter, and it isn't something I want to discuss."

They'd never actually found Regulus. Sirius remembered how everyone was certain he was dead, probably due to that old tapestry or something else in the house. He hadn't questioned it either... but now he started to wonder if there was a chance they'd all been fooled.

"You're not dead either, in case there was any confusion. And this isn't Hell, in case either the decor or the company caused that to cross your mind."

Sirius almost winced at the sharp sarcasm. If that was Regulus... hell, it was hard to remember, but Sirius thought he used to be more polite than that unless something had upset him. It wasn't that hard to figure out just what had. He was tempted to ask them to prove who they were, but that was quickly followed by the thought that there were a lot more people on the other side who would have known his younger brother better than he did. And even if that was Regulus, somehow, which side were they really on? He thought Regulus had run off, but if he'd been stranded here instead... He knew he should say something, but he just couldn't think of what.

"I know I'm fairly high on whatever mental list you have of people you don't want to be around... but if you'll get yourself cleaned up, and dressed in a way that won't be a public embarrassment, then I'll show you how to find a pub in Alexandria. They serve meals there, and you look like you could use one. And there's an inn nearby, so you won't have to stay here."

Sirius was almost briefly tempted to mention there were a lot of people higher up on that list than Regulus, but the attitude quickly made him change his mind. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?"

"Besides that it doesn't blend in well with the sort of things worn on this world? It looked and smelled like you'd slept in it after passing out from a drinking binge, and that was before you spent most of today asleep."

Sirius had to grudgingly admit that it wouldn't hurt to get washed up. And so what if he hadn't been sleeping well and 'solved' that a few times with firewhisky. Being cooped up in that gloomy old ruin was more than enough reason to get drunk. It crossed his mind that an answer to an earlier question was probably still being waited on... "I won't hex you if you unlock the door."

The brightly colored panel faded away and the boy who looked way too much like Regulus stepped into the room. It reappeared shortly afterward, but Regulus seemed unconcerned about being locked in. So either it wasn't still locked or he could unlock it... whoever he really was.

Sirius looked at him, trying to spot some mistake in the disguise, and ended up with two more shocks in a day that was already too full of them. One had to do with what Regulus was wearing. The other, however, completely drowned that one out. Regulus didn't look that much older than Harry. It was as if... Mikoto's words from earlier about time not being a constant crossed his mind. "... How long have you been here?"

There was a brief smirk on Regulus's face, as if he'd guessed what was such a shock and was amused. But the look faded quickly and he almost looked disturbed for a moment instead. Sirius really didn't know what to think. If that was supposed to be a disguise, forgetting there was only an eighteen month difference in their ages was a pretty big mistake. If Regulus hadn't died, he'd be in his mid-thirties, not a teenager.

"From my perspective it was November of 1979 roughly half a year ago."

"1996," Sirius corrected. "It's the middle of June, 1996." He didn't want to admit he was a bit fuzzy on the exact date. And while November had been when Regulus had disappeared, that didn't mean this still wasn't some impostor who didn't know when to drop the act. It wasn't exactly a big secret, after all.

"Actually, here, it's 1804," Regulus commented, a light conversational tone clashing with poorly hidden discomfort. Sirius wondered what it would be like to find out you'd missed sixteen and a half years over the space of a few months. Not pleasant, he guessed. But that still meant assuming this wasn't all a lie.

"Do people really dress like that here?" Sirius asked, distracting himself with snickering at Regulus's outfit.

"Actually, yes. Is something the matter?"

"You look like a minor villain in a muggle comic book," Sirius said, and then just cracked up laughing.

"If I didn't know for certain that there were no alcoholic beverages anywhere in the Desert Palace, I'd think you were already drunk," he heard 'Regulus' say, and Sirius could almost have sworn it sounded like he was trying not to be amused. But then, only a second later, his tone had turned cold. "A suitable change of clothing was left by the bed. And the bath is through that door, if you haven't noticed. I'll wait outside."

Sirius looked to see him heading for the door, and couldn't help wondering what the hell had just happened. One second things were almost civil, if awkward, and the next Regulus was back to that perfect little ice prince act Sirius could vaguely remember from school... the one he usually reserved for people he disliked or didn't think he should associate with and only talked to out of some requirement. Thinking back over what he'd just said, his best guess was that Regulus was offended at being compared to anything muggle-related. "Guess you haven't changed much, if you're going to leave in a snit because I mentioned muggles."

Regulus froze in the doorway and turned to look at Sirius. His expression was completely confused for the halfsecond it took to become condescending instead. "Once again, you completely misunderstand things. I'm leaving because you need to get cleaned up and dressed. It has nothing to do with anyone unable to do magic, or your mentioning them."

"What did I do, then? I did something or you wouldn't be acting like this."

"What did you do?" Regulus echoed, in an icily calm tone that Sirius really didn't like. In fact, just then Regulus reminded him a bit uncomfortably of their father any time Sirius 'misbehaved' when he was small. You always had the feeling if he looked at you too long you'd freeze to death. "You did absolutely nothing, Sirius."

What was that supposed to mean? Sirius didn't get a chance to puzzle it out before Regulus had stepped back out into the hall. The 'stained glass' door reappeared after he'd passed through it, and Sirius could just hope it wasn't re-locked again. Absolutely nothing? He wasn't sure that made any sense at all. Unless... It wasn't about now. He had to know if his guess was right. The 'stained glass' door dissolved when he touched it and he stepped out into the hall.

"Have you forgotten how to use a bathtub, Sirius?"

"What did you mean by that?"

"You're here, instead of getting yourself cleaned up, so there must be some problem."

"No, not that. What you said before. About..."

"Doing nothing?" Regulus replied, still icily sarcastic. "One of your talents, really. You don't pay attention. You don't notice things. You're very talented at running away. Given that you're a Gryffindor, that's almost ironic. Oh, and you don't answer your mail. You're particularly bad about that one. Or perhaps it's only letters I've sent that you most likely tossed in the fireplace unopened."

He'd received a letter from Regulus shortly before his younger brother had disappeared, trying to arrange to meet with him. He'd thought it might be a trap, but... Sirius tried to think of how anyone else could have found out about it. He doubted Regulus would have wanted to tell anyone. It had been crazy enough at the time to think he'd want to talk, since Sirius had been disowned. But it wasn't like Death Eaters didn't have ways to get information, as horrible as the thought was. But if that were true, why wait sixteen and a half years and do something this crazy on a supposed different world? None of this made any sense. Unless, one very crazy possibility were true... "What did the letter say?"

"As if I'd tell you that now."

"I didn't burn it. I just want proof you sent it."

"Well, don't expect me to quote it word for word... I must have rewritten it at least two dozen times. In the end I didn't risk putting much of anything in the letter itself, in case it was intercepted. I just asked you to meet me somewhere... a park in a muggle area, where I hoped we wouldn't be noticed. Whether you burned the letter or not, you apparently couldn't be bothered to show up. I eventually tired of waiting around in uncomfortable muggle clothing and left."

Sirius remembered Regulus standing under a tree, looking unusually nervous... and picking at the clothes he'd put on as if they were threatening to itch him to death. The park had been otherwise deserted, due to the cold weather. "I thought it was a trap..." He'd gone as Padfoot, and Regulus hadn't recognized him in that form. And then it had been too late. He'd thought it was a trap, and then it was too late... and that was the same thing he was doing now. Sirius winced as he realized it. It didn't even have to do with it really being a trap. If he thought about it, he knew how stupid it was to think that now. It was because thinking it was a trick was somehow easier than the idea of facing the truth. What kind of Gryffindor did that make him? Regulus was right... he was good at running away. "Regulus... What happened? I... Everyone thinks you're dead."

"Then at least that much went according to plan," Regulus said, bitterly, the sharper sarcasm gone for now. Then he sighed. "I don't want to talk about it, Sirius, but I have a few questions of my own and I can't really expect you to tell me something for nothing. Go get cleaned up and dressed, so we can go to the pub... because you're likely to want a drink by the and of this. And I might as well."

Sirius snerked at that. "Since when do you drink?"

"I don't, but your being here might change that."

"Very funny."

"It's not just you. It's everything that your being here implies." Sirius must have looked confused, because Regulus continued to explain after half a second. "Mikoto said it sounded like you arrived from some sort of fight. I could hope there's another explanation, but... He's not dead, is he."

Sirius almost asked who, feeling an odd uncomfortable suspicion about the whole conversation. And the way Regulus looked at that moment certainly didn't help. It had sometimes been difficult to reconcile older memories of his younger brother with the sort of things he knew Death Eaters did, but not then. Regulus wasn't just upset. He was coldly, murderously angry, and Sirius could hear him try to keep his voice from shaking as he continued.

"You said it's been sixteen and a half years, Sirius. That abomination that calls himself Voldemort should have been dead by the end of 1979. You want to know what happened to me? Fine. But I want to know how it was botched up after I was gone."

Sirius just stared in shock, going over what was just said and trying to wrap his mind around them. Regulus hadn't just chickened out and run off. He'd done something he'd thought would lead to Voldemort's death. "... Now I really want to know. And, you're right, we're going to need drinks. Or at least I am."

"There are no alcoholic beverages in the Desert Palace."

Oh. Right. They had to go to a pub. He had to get cleaned up and dressed so they could go to a pub. Ok. He could do that. "Right. I'll be back in a few minutes." Sirius ducked back into the room, but couldn't help glancing back once to make sure Regulus was really still there. He wasn't sure what to think of any of this, and breaking it up into pieces didn't seem to make it any easier. Regulus wasn't dead, which was a shock on its own. Regulus was only six months older than when he'd disappeared, so he'd be nineteen. Only three years older than Harry would be on his birthday next month. That made things weirder. And Regulus really wanted Voldemort dead, to the point where he'd looked willing to track him down and stab him to death with a kitchen knife like a crazed muggle if that's what it took.

He grabbed the clothes with only half a glance at them, enough to notice they were primarily bright red, and then headed for the bathroom. A bath sounded good, really. Going out to a pub sounded even better. Except for very recent events, he hadn't been out of that damned house since last September, and he really needed a drink now. It wasn't just the apparently complete reversal of his brother's allegiances, but all the rest of the hinted-at details. Regulus hadn't disappeared because he'd tried to run off and was killed. He'd actually tried to kill Voldemort, or done something that he thought would have led to the same result. That one was even more of a shock than the rest, and Sirius was really starting to feel like a heel. Regulus had decided to switch sides, he'd needed help... And Sirius hadn't been there when his little brother needed him.

Sirius was startled out of any further thoughts on the whole situation when Valia Pira's voice suddenly began to give him step by step instructions for removing his clothing.


Regulus let his hand slip away from a silvery wall section, still unable to find anything pleasant about this situation. As much as he reluctantly had to admit he missed his brother, actually having Sirius here was salt in old wounds he'd rather have left alone. Especially when he knew Sirius was just going to leave again. Sirius had to leave. Forgetting that was foolish and just setting himself up to be hurt.

And then there was the rest of the nightmarish implications that Sirius's arrival hinted at. Sixteen and a half years had passed while he was here. Over a decade and a half, during which the self-proclaimed 'Dark Lord' had still managed not to die. He'd almost hoped, when Sirius woke, that he'd find out Tom Riddle actually was dead and the Nexus was just confusing the Dark Mark somehow. Cissy's baby would be sixteen years old, only three years younger than he was... assuming, of course, that they'd survived this long. He really hoped the child was a girl, because then they might have some slight chance of avoiding being Marked as soon as they finished school. It was too much to hope they'd fled Britain, not with Lucius in the inner circle. He knew too well there was nowhere to run.

Perhaps sixteen and a half more years of drawn-out war was as good an explanation as any for Sirius's condition. He should be thirty-six, as strange as that thought was, but he looked a good deal older. Sirius's appearance had been a shock from the start. He looked like he'd been ill, and smelled like he'd been drinking. It hadn't been hard to convince Mikoto to put a sleep spell on him for a while. He'd clearly needed the rest. And Regulus wasn't sure what to think of his moods. He'd seemed a little... strange. But then, it's not as if he'd really know if Sirius's behavior was normal for him or not. He'd only been fourteen when Sirius had left.

At least it shouldn't be too hard to keep some sort of distance. Sirius hated everyone in the family, and Regulus had never seen any reason to think he wasn't included. Sirius wouldn't be here much longer than a month, if Mikoto's estimates were right. Regulus just had to keep that in mind, stay calm, and not let himself get too concerned. The more he let it bother him, the more it was going to hurt later.

The important thing was that Tom Riddle wasn't dead yet. Regulus had nearly died stealing that Horcrux... and if he had died, it would have been for nothing. That was something he just couldn't tolerate. And since he couldn't return to try to fix whatever had gone wrong, Sirius would have to. It was that simple.

Or at least that's what he tried to tell himself. He knew it wasn't simple at all, not really. Nothing ever was as simple as it should be, and he doubted he'd be able to get through the month without adding to his long list of regrets.
2018-11-17 03:28 pm

The Other Side Of The Veil

It was rare for Mikoto to visit the Nexus. Once, those visits had been to travel from one reality to another, exploring, and futilely trying to find a world she could feel at home on. That had changed with a portal that had dropped a sopping wet and very-nearly-dead wizard on her.

These days her trips were more often restricted to visiting the Nexus Mall for supplies, or the Nexus Library to research subjects to aid in devising a cure for her oldest brother's condition. She was en-route from the former to the latter when the sounds of yelling, slightly distorted, alerted her to the appearance of a new portal nearby. Curiosity prompted her to investigate, one of the Desert Palace's small portable magitek computers quickly readied to scan the disturbance and the bag containing her shopping left propped against a random table as she approached the source of the sounds.

The portal appeared, even on first glance, to be one of the more unusual ones - a stone archway, with a tattered curtain hanging within it. Mikoto could hear voices from the other side, yet when she tried to cautiously touch the fabric she met with resistance as if an invisible wall filled the archway. She placed the spherical portion of the computer in the air nearby to extract the viewscreen, noting that scans confirmed that the portal was one-way. It would not allow travel from the Nexus, something she found unusual but not completely unheard of. She had the computer begin a more in-depth analysis of the energy patterns of this particular rift to see if it was strange in any other ways.

She continued to listen to the sounds of what certainly seemed to be combat, as she examined the portal itself more closely. She could hear laughter on the other side, and someone yelling, "Come on, you can do better than that!" The sound had an echo to it. She wondered if the effect was due to the portal, or if the other side of the portal might be in a cavern or stone room. She tried to find an angle that would let her peer around the edge of the veil to and see what was happening on the other side... when she was suddenly knocked to the ground by something coming out of the portal.

Or, rather, someone. She frowned to herself as she pushed the strange man off. What was it with Nexus portals dropping people on her? Though, at least this one was breathing and had a pulse. He still seemed unconscious, and she cast Scan to see if it could identify why. Someone from the other side of the portal was yelling now... and she frowned to herself. Sirius? She took a closer look at the stranger as the Scan spell confirmed he'd been hit with a stunning spell of a kind she recognized. The counter for that was simple enough, though the presence of that particular spell effect only strengthened her suspicions. "Rennervate." She needed no wand to cast spells, even the ones she'd learned from Regulus during their studies so far.

Mikoto found it difficult to divide her attention between the strange wizard and the portal, and her first warning that the latter was fading was an odd catch in the sounds from it. Like a poorly streamed video, there had been complete silence for a beat before sound had resumed. Risking a glance, she noticed the portal itself flicker. The sudden vanishing and reappearing coincided with another small 'pause' in the sound.

Taking her attention away from the recovering wizard proved to be a mistake, however. As soon as he could get back on his feet he rushed towards the portal. There was no time for Mikoto to warn him, so she just watched as he bounced off the invisible barrier. She doubted he'd even noticed her, and was relieved that at least he hadn't knocked her over again.

Mikoto thought for a moment of telling the new arrival that it was unlikely his friends could hear him or that his attempts would have any effect on the portal's one-way nature, but given his current panic she didn't think attracting his attention was the best of ideas. She continued to quietly monitor the portal, making sure the computer ran every analysis test she could think of. She noticed that it already looked faded around the edges. It would vanish soon. It was interesting that it had already remained quite a while longer than the one that had dropped Regulus into the Nexus, given her suspicions about this particular new arrival.


As far as Sirius was concerned, the question of exactly what the hell was going on could be dealt with after he figured out how to get back through the veil archway.

"Get him, save him, he’s only just gone through!"

Sirius could hear Harry yelling, just on the other side of the thing, but for some reason he couldn't even touch the curtain. He pounded on it and even tried to find an edge to pry at. "Harry! I'm here!"

"It’s too late, Harry -"

"... The hell it is, Remus!" Sirius yelled back, and tried to break whatever was in his way with a blasting curse. The result knocked him off his feet again.

"We can still reach him -"

"There’s nothing you can do, Harry... nothing... He’s gone."

Sirius was back on his feet again, and back at the archway. "I'M RIGHT HERE!" he yelled back. "I'M NOT GONE!"

"He hasn’t gone! SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"

Harry's voice had sounded more distant that time, and while Sirius could still feel the stone archway he was horrified to find he could also almost see through it. It was fading away in front of him. He'd tried both sides of the arch, finding both equally impenetrable.

"He can’t come back, Harry. He can’t come back, because he’s d -"

"HE - IS - NOT - DEAD! SIRIUS!"

No... That wasn't true. He wasn't... "I'M NOT DEAD! I'm right here! Harry! Remus! I'm right here! Come on, Moony! Don't give up on me." He tried to pound on the barrier keeping him from the veil again, and this time his blows met with no resistance. Not because he'd finally broken through, but because the archway was no longer there.

"They couldn't hear you," said a calm female voice, and he turned to see a blond girl about Harry's age pluck a strange silver sphere out of the air and tuck it in a pouch attached to her belt. "That particular portal seemed restricted to one-way access. A different method will be needed to return, if it's possible."

"What 'method'?" Sirius asked. He didn't know who this girl was, and just then he really didn't care. He had to get back, everything else was secondary to that, and he refused to believe there was any chance it wouldn't be possible.

"The most common in this place would be the PINPoint teleportation devices," she answered. "However, I suspect they may not work for you."

"Why not?" Sirius asked, watching as the girl grabbed an odd rectangular thing from a bowl on a nearby table. And he stared a moment longer when he realized that, unless it was some part of her strange clothes, it really looked like she had a tail. Something very strange was going on here.

"A coordinate string is used to specify the world and location. Luckily, I was able to scan for that before the portal vanished," she said, typing them into the device before handing it over to Sirius. "But there are some instances in which PINPoints cannot return someone to their world."

Sirius looked the device over. It seemed to be some strange muggle thing, but it wasn't that hard to figure out which button to press. All it did, though, was give him some sort of message about 'no signal'. He frowned at it and tried again, with the same result, before tossing the useless thing back in the bowl it had come from. "What's the next way?" There had to be something else.

"You should keep that," the girl warned, frowning slightly as she retrieved the PINPoint and held it out to him. "Even if it does not work to return you to your world of origin, PINPoints can be useful in other situations. And it is extremely unwise to discard an item with your world's coordinates on it so carelessly, particularly in this place. It may not work for you, but there are creatures here that you would not want to find their way back to your home should the same not be true for them."

Sirius stuffed the PINPoint in a pocket instead. He had the feeling that getting back right now wasn't going to be possible, and he didn't like that at all.

The girl - and he was right, she DID have a tail - nodded as if she'd guessed what he was thinking. "Since there isn't stable portal access, and the PINPoint does not work for you, the situation becomes more problematic. It is not unheard of for some people to be unable to return, particularly in cases of unstable access or where their timeline seems to consider them dead and therefore will not allow access."

"I can't accept that," Sirius said. "There has to be a way back."

The girl seemed to consider this for a moment before replying. "I can have Valia Pira analyze the scans I made of the portal before it vanished. Perhaps there is some way to force it to re-manifest and allow for return travel. I will need to return to the Desert Palace, and I think you should come with me. It is inadvisable to wander this place alone until you've learned more about it."

That might have prompted Sirius to have more of a look around if it weren't for the situation. Harry and Remus were still in danger. He might miss the rest of the battle, but there was a war going on even if the Ministry was too stupid to admit it. Since it didn't seem like waiting around here would do anything useful, he might as well go along with this for now. At least until he had a better plan. "Let's go, then."

"It's also inadvisable to relay PINpoint coordinates out loud in a public location, so we'll use mine. This will be reasonably similar to what your world refers to as 'side-along apparition'," the girl explained, retrieving a shopping bag that had been left propped against a nearby table. If he still had any doubts the tail was real, he lost them when she wrapped it around the bag's handles in order to have a hand free to use the PINPoint. She held out her other arm for him.

"I hope you're planning to explain all this 'other world' stuff," Sirius said, reaching to hold onto her arm. In an instant, they were somewhere else. Despite what was said it wasn't really that much like apparition at all, and he wasn't going to miss that 'squeezed through a straw' feeling one bit. Sirius was already reevaluating the possible usefulness of the PINPoint he'd shoved in a pocket as he looked around the room they were in. It was round, with metal paneled walls and a metal floor. The floor had an odd pattern of wedges, like pizza slices, as well as an ornate textured design on each wedge. The walls were less decorated, but nearer the top was a gilded pattern with inset blue stones. The single door didn't have a knob or any other obvious way of opening it.

"I will," the girl said, continuing the conversation as if the location hadn't changed at all. She put her PINPoint away to pick her shopping bag up, and then reached for the door's archway. For one shocked moment, Sirius thought she'd cut herself on the metal decoration as her fingers left behind crimson streaks. Then he realized the color seemed to be below the surface of the metal. At the same moment, the door to the small room slid open and the girl stepped out.

Sirius followed, finding the rest of the building even more surreal. Above the door they'd just exited was a decoration that looked like a giant eye. The floor had a pattern of rose and purple curves like stylized vines. The gilded metal trim continued in varying patterns on most of the surfaces, and some of the statues in the huge structure seemed downright demonic in nature. The further they went, the stranger it seemed to get. Parts of it seemed constructed primarily of stained glass and metal filigree, in shades of blues, purples, and reds. The checkerboard floors past the first area were the sanest part of the whole mess, and Sirius thought even the Malfoys would find this place just a bit overdone.

"There are multiple realities, of which your world is only one," the girl explained as they made their way through the building. "The place you arrived in is a crossroads of sorts between some, but not all, of those realities. It is most commonly referred to as a Nexus. Your world, as an example, does not have a stable connection. This reality, and this world of Gaia to be specific, however, does have a stable connection and thus it isn't difficult to travel from here to the Nexus and back again."

"What did you do to the wall back there?" Because that had been very strange and a bit unsettling, and he wanted to make sure she hadn't really had to bleed into a wall somehow to get the door open. That kind of lock never said anything good about whoever made the door.

She paused, looking almost puzzled for a moment, before replying. "This place is the Desert Palace. It is my older brother's home, though he is currently indisposed. Many of the control systems of the Desert Palace will only react to those with magic. Some time ago I had reason to modify the Desert Palace's security to redirect all incoming PINPoint teleportation to the holding cells for prisoners in order to prevent unwelcome intruders. What you saw was simply the visual display reaction to my accessing the controls in order to open the door of the cell we arrived in."

That over-gilded cage was this world's idea of a prison cell? This just kept getting stranger. Sirius thought listening to this girl for long might drive him starkers, if he wasn't half mad already. She talked like a Ravenclaw quoting an old textbook written by someone who'd read one too many dictionaries.

She stopped again near a particularly silvery patch of wall, reaching to touch the surface. "Valia Pira."

"Yes, Mikoto?" replied a nearly-androgynous but more likely female voice that seemed to have no definable source at all.

Sirius wondered if maybe this was something like those two-way mirrors. Or maybe Valia Pira was a ghost. The girl had mentioned the name before, but he didn't see who she could be talking to.

"I have data on an unstable nexus portal that requires analysis. Placing portable computer unit into the main systems now."

Sirius watched as the girl took the metal sphere from earlier back out of the pouch, and removed a matching silver bracelet she was wearing. And then he saw her stick both of them inside the wall, reaching through it as if it wasn't even there despite that it certainly looked solid enough.

"Beginning analysis," said the disembodied voice.

"Additionally, add Sirius Black to limited guest access for security."

Sirius started, distracted from the strange wall panel, as he realized she knew his name. He was sure he hadn't told her. She could have heard his first name from Harry's yelling earlier, but to know the rest she'd still have had to know enough to have identified him from what she'd heard. He wasn't sure what to think of it. Whatever she knew didn't seem to include the 'escaped murdering lunatic' parts, or she wouldn't have calmly invited him home... would she? Unless this was a trap...

"Acknowledged," Valia Pira replied.

"Well, you seem to know who I am, but you haven't mentioned your name yet."

She turned from the wall to look at Sirius. "I am called Mikoto." There was a pause before she added, "And, I did recognize your name from the portal, if that is what you were wondering. It's uncertain whether I would have recognized you otherwise, although I had heard of you and your world's coordinates are also familiar to me.

"Familiar how? You've been there?"

"No, I have not. But your reputation isn't all that has preceded you, Sirius Black."

"I wonder just what you've heard." She didn't seem to react like someone would if they knew a lot of the things people thought about him. But then, she acted strangely anyway. He paused for a moment, distracted from that train of thought, because he'd thought he'd heard music coming from the direction they were heading. It sounded like someone playing a piano.

"Enough to be aware of your tendency to find or cause trouble, and your predisposition towards pranks," Mikoto said.

Sirius kept following, certain he'd heard a piano now. And was that lava way down there? What was this crazy place, really?

"I will have Valia Pira assign rooms to you while the portal data is being analyzed. In order to prevent problems, I should warn you of certain things," Mikoto said.

"You're not the only one here," Sirius guessed. Someone had to be playing that piano, after all, unless it was a recording. And it didn't sound like a recording.

"No, I am not. There have been three people in residence here until now, although the structure was originally designed for much larger numbers. My oldest brother is very ill. Because of this he is currently in stasis in a sealed room. I do not mind if you explore this place, but do not unseal that room or it could prove fatal to him at this point. This room is located in one of the labs, and is both locked and magically warded with a barrier that manifests in the same color as what you saw when I touched the cell wall earlier. I know if I do not tell you this, or simply tell you to stay out of a sealed room, you might attempt to access it out of curiosity or simply because you were told not to do so. I have been warned of that aspect of your nature."

Sirius couldn't help a snerk at that. "Okay, I'll admit, if you had just told me about a locked door I couldn't open... I'd have trouble resisting for long. But I won't do anything to hurt your brother." They were close enough now to hear the tune being played. It wasn't any song Sirius recognized, the unfamiliar tune paired with a counter-melody of notes played up and down the scale. He wondered briefly if that part was meant for a harp instead.

Mikoto paused briefly at a hallway intersection before she started walking in the direction of the music again.

"Who's the third person here?" Sirius asked. He could guess the hesitation was because she was deciding whether to show her housemate that she'd brought an unexpected guest home or save it for later. The rooms she'd mentioned must have been the other way.

"Someone from your world," Mikoto replied. She was frowning slightly, and Sirius couldn't help feeling uneasy. He was guessing she wasn't sure how he'd react to whoever the other person was. Or, maybe, wasn't sure how they'd react to him, given his history. That would make sense. Most people wouldn't like their 'roommates'
bringing home escaped felons without even a warning. He followed anyway as she approached a large stained glass archway. Sirius had seen a few of those on the way here and had thought they were very strangely placed windows, but the music seemed to be coming from the other side of it. The music stopped just before Mikoto
reached to touch the 'glass'. The colorful panel seemed to dissolve, leaving behind an empty doorway.

When Mikoto walked into the room and stepped to the side as she spoke to the person at the piano, the place took a turn from strange to unbelievably surreal. "Regulus. We have company."

Sirius just stared as the person at the piano bench looked over. A person that couldn't possibly be there. This had to be some kind of trap. Without even thinking, he reacted, sending a stunner at the piano player and then quickly trying the same with Mikoto.

Mikoto, however, had had time to cast Reflect. Sirius Black was knocked out with a stunner for the second time that evening, this time his own.


Mikoto took a moment to consider the situation as she checked both unconscious wizards for any other injuries. She had expected some show of hostility, given what she knew of past events between the two, but she had to admit immediate spell use was an extreme in her analysis of the situation. Still, it hadn't been enough of a statistical outlier for her to have not been ready to cast Reflect, which had turned out to be a good thing.

Despite the attack, which at least was admittedly non-lethal, leaving Sirius Black to wander the Nexus would not have been an option. Especially not after she'd recognized the coordinate string for his reality of origin. The possibility of Regulus's brother being infested by a Yeerk and becoming a severe security risk was too dangerous to be ignored.

At least she had been able to convince him to come quietly. Well, mostly quietly.

After some consideration, she decided it best to just put them both to bed so she could return to her research.
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-17 03:23 pm

Waking

The surreal dream was already falling into half-remembered fragments, replaced by an awareness of laying down and a confused mixture of aching pain and numbness. Memory began to reassert itself through the haze, but it only brought confusion. Based on the last things he could remember happening, the only way he should be waking up is if he were now less than two foot tall. And while Rick Myers felt decidedly strange, he didn't feel like a puppet. Though, he had to admit to himself, he didn't really know firsthand what being a puppet would feel like.

A familiar and cheery giggle nearby prompted him to attempt to open his eyes. To his confusion and relief, he wasn't the same size as the smiling marionette perched on the side of the bed. Another explanation for the way he felt came to mind. "I'm on some really heavy painkillers, right?"

"Uh huh," was the whispery reply that needed no translation.

Another sliver of memory resurfaced and, if one of the puppets hadn't been nearby to answer some questions, he might well have tried to force himself out of bed to find out on his own. "Susie..."

Jester pointed across the hospital room and Rick relaxed when he saw his wife asleep in another bed not far away. Pinhead waved from where he was sitting on the bedside table next to Susan's bed.

Rick still had no idea how they could have possibly survived what had just happened, but they had. For now, that would be enough. Later he'd want an explanation, when he felt up to listening to what he had no doubt was going to be a hell of a story.
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-17 03:12 pm

Parachute Mission

Patrick checked the buckles on the tiny parachute one last time, and the watch-like PINPoint Jester was wearing like a second belt. "I guess that's everything. You're sure about this?"

Jester nodded. /It is not as dangerous as you think. People use parachutes all the time./

"Yeah, but they don't weigh less than two pounds. I still think you'll be lucky if you're not blown out to sea, like an oversized piece of dandelion fluff."

/I should go instead. I weigh a little more than you./

Jester dodged away from Tunneler as if afraid he was about to lose his parachute. /Nein. I want to do this. It will be fun./

/Just let him go, already,/ commented Blade, sounding very amused to the others.

"All right. Good luck," Patrick said.

Jester reached for the PINPoint at his waist, and was gone.


Freefall was amazing. Jester had always secretly wanted to try something like this... parachuting, hang-gliding, some kind of flight that didn't involve the cargo hold of an airplane. While traveling in luggage was never fun, it was just one of the small downsides of what they were.

But he didn't want to think of that now, not with the wind rushing past and the hugeness of the sky and earth. It was freeing to not be so hidden. Dangerous for them, true, but who was going to be looking up in the sky for falling puppets? This was as safe as it could get, short of being in the Nexus. After all, Totems couldn't fly. The idea sent him into a fit of snickers, he couldn't help it, as his mind started coming up with all the ways one could make a Totem fly - none of which were particularly safe for the Totem.

Somewhere in between mischievous thoughts of catapults and toy rockets, it crossed his mind that he should think about pulling the rip cord soon. He hadn't told the others that he was a little uncertain as to how to know just when to do that. After all, they didn't fall like humans did, mostly due to the weight difference. He'd need to be closer to the ground than a human, but not too close. He started to keep a watch on the land below, trying to make sure he'd land in the back yard of the house.

He couldn't wait to tell everyone how fun this was. And then, for just a moment, he froze. When he'd thought of everyone else, he'd felt something that couldn't be true. He knew the others were waiting for him in the Nexus, and yet that felt confused somehow. But the real shock was who was in the house below. The second shock, he realized as he tried to sort out how this could be possible, is that he didn't feel any of the wrongness that had eventually become so noticeable with Gallagher, the zombie, and Camille. Things felt exactly as they should.

Somehow, Rick Myers wasn't dead.

He didn't pull the rip cord until he was barely twice as high as the house's roof, and if he hit the ground a little hard as a result that was fine - he'd had far worse. The more important thing now, he felt, was to act as quickly as possible. After hitting a button on the PINPoint to store the ground coordinates, he fumbled with the parachute's release. It took longer than he liked to get it to work without moving fingers. As he darted across the grass to the fake stone that concealed a spare back door key, he was already thinking several steps ahead. From there, he expected to climb up a bit of trellis to reach the doorknob, and let himself in to find out what was going on. They would need to grab the emergency bug-out bags and get out of the house, perhaps back to the Nexus where it would be safe.

He stumbled and fell as he reached the stone. The reason was as obvious to him as if he'd heard the gunshot despite the silencer that woman must have used. Now he understood. Time had bent, somehow, but there was no time to waste. Plans already rearranging in his mind, Jester hit the button that would return him to the Nexus.


"What happened?" It was clear to Patrick, and all the rest as well, that Jester was agitated when he returned.

/There is no time. Get the duffel. I have the coordinates and will get us there, but we should all have PINPoints to return quickly./ Jester wasn't always so direct about giving orders, but the others knew to listen when he did.

Patrick put the waiting duffel bag on the ground and unzipped it so the puppets could climb in after grabbing PINPoints from a nearby bowl.

Jester continued to outline the plan. /Patrick, you will need to get us in the back door. Then, you return to the Nexus and get those potions ready the green-haired woman told us about. Six-Shooter will need to grab the bugout bags. I will need Pinhead and Blade with me. The rest watch for trouble and then we must all get back to the Nexus as soon as possible./ He knew, already, that in order for the past to remain as it was, what they had sensed before they came to the Nexus could not change. They had to get to the Nexus to use the potions. And then... maybe...
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-17 03:03 pm

The Drowned Wizard

Mikoto's first warning of the impending portal was a stagnant briny scent... not that of the seaside itself, but that of, perhaps, a lake fed by ocean water. It was an unpleasant coppery smell, saltwater mingled with the scent of blood. The second warning was a drop of water, so cold it almost seemed to burn, hitting her cheek... and the sense of some sort of magic nearby. All of this in the split second before something heavy, cold, and wet fell on her. She struggled to push off the limp and clammy shape and get a closer look at it.

What had fallen on her appeared to be a corpse... male, dark haired with blue-grey eyes staring blankly, icy cold, pale and cyanotic from lack of blood, wearing some sort of black clothing that now hung in torn rags. There seemed to be a deep bite on one wrist, another on his shoulder, and she could see where his throat had been torn open, a jagged wound possibly caused by claws. It was as she moved his head to examine that injury further that she noticed something surprising - pupil contraction in response to the change in light. Whatever had happened to him had happened quickly, and not that long ago. There was still time... and she would learn more from a living subject than a dead one.

She cast Life without a second thought on the matter, and then quickly had to roll the young man onto his side so he wouldn't choke on the bloody water forcibly expelled from his lungs. She quickly glanced over his injuries again as he lay there, gasping for breath. Some of them had not completely healed, bleeding again rather sluggishly. She cast Cura rather than risk the stranger quickly dying again from blood loss. From the look of him, it was hard to tell if that or the water had been the primary cause of clinical death before. She quickly amended her thoughts to include the even more likely possibility of hypothermic shock from the icy water.

She was more certain of the source of unfamiliar magic now. It came both from this stranger and from a curious wooden object that had fallen nearby. She gave it a cursory examination as she considered her options. She had no decent lab... and with the blood loss and hypothermia she doubted she would get any useful answers out of the new arrival any time soon. Perhaps the best option would be to see if anyone in the Nexus proper could identify him. Curious or not, she didn't want to be stuck caring for him, and could just as easily find out about him and his type of unfamiliar magic by using him as bait for others of his own reality.

She decided that first, however, she should remove his damp clothing and check for any further injuries. As she started on the first task, she soon realized there was something else wrong. Despite the clear signs of hypovolemia from blood loss, he didn't seem as unconscious as he should, reacting both as if in pain and as if trying, weakly, to struggle against some nightmare. Casting Scan revealed some sort of poison, Panacea eliminated it, and the stranger slipped into deeper unconsciousness. Checking his pulse, she found it rapid and weak, but steady. Signs of cyanosis were fading, though he still looked far too pale to her.

But his condition was stable, and that was enough for the moment. Pulling a dry blanket from a nearby Nexus couch, she resumed stripping off the unconscious boy's soaked and ruined clothing.
mosaic_archive: and scratched or NPC charas... (Internet Theater)
2018-11-17 02:47 pm
Entry tags:

Broken

Her first coherent thought, if put into words, could have been summed up as 'Not again'.

Her second coherent thought was that that probably wasn't a normal thing to think upon waking to find oneself literally nowhere. She'd closed her eyes again immediately on noticing it. It always gave her a little bit of a headache to look at nothing for too long. She wondered if that was because a human mind wasn't really able to cope with trying to interpret the appearance of nothing at all, if human eyes could even see it properly. She stopped herself. Think too far along those lines and you start to wonder how you're breathing, which could be dangerous. Poor Eddie wouldn't last five minutes here without maybe dyin' in a fit of logic.

A better idea was to try to untangle why she'd been kicked out this time. She'd thought things were going... well, ok, they weren't fine, but she could think about that mess later. Crying wouldn't do anyone any good right now, even if the last things she remembered made her question if she should bother trying to force her way back into a reality that seemed determined to be rid of her.

The older memories, previously sacrificed in her last madness-induced attempt to force reality to accept her, were settling in place like an old familiar blanket. It should have been scary, realizing your whole life was a trick, a lie to keep whatever powers controlled the world from realizing who you were and booting you out. Maybe to someone else it would have been, but her ability to be scared was a little... skewed, at best. And, besides, it was comforting to have it all finally make some sense.

The numbness began to give way to anger as she put the pieces together. She'd told Red she'd believed Selina when Selina had confessed to setting them up, but that was because she could tell Selina was telling what she believed was the truth... and because she hadn't remembered that reality would change the past if it suited it to get rid of something, and alter people's memories to suit. Had any of it ever really made sense? Maybe, maybe not... but now she wasn't sure who to blame for that.

She'd been running when she'd heard something... no, not really heard... It hadn't been a sound. It hadn't been something audible to human ears. That was just how her mind interpreted it in that last second. A crack, and a sound like breaking glass... a sound she normally enjoyed hearing. It sounded so freeing...

It was only then that she realized she could still hear it, or at least a sound like pieces of glass falling... or like some wind-chime, playing a melody. She'd been hearing it all along, but it was like the sound itself had tried not to intrude on her thoughts... a concept that made perfect sense outside of reality, but only if something else were here.

There could be some nasty things between worlds, and she had to look around. And then she frowned. On second glance, this wasn't the same nowhere she'd been before. It didn't hurt her eyes and head as much, for starters. And it was a lot more... inside out, or at least that's how her mind was interpreting it. Inside was a possible-infinity containing almost nothing except herself. Outside was interpreted as the inside of the enormous crystal in front of her, which was also the source of the sound. Flickers of light moved within the stone like some kind of liquid opal, and as they moved there was a music made of broken things... Broken realities.

She paused. That last thought had almost felt like her own, but it wasn't. And other than herself and the Crystal - which definitely felt like it deserved a capital letter but didn't feel like something that could speak - what was there? Light and the shadows it cast... some beads of water on the surface of the Crystal.. a delicate tracing of metal on parts of it, in patterns of spirals and angles and fractals... a soft breeze... and an occasional flicker of what looked like fire or lightning across the facets.

Here is where we look in, or outward, at what we've collected.

As she looked at the shifting lights, she knew. As much as she played the dumb blond because she liked people to underestimate her, it was all a gag. And what was inside - or outside - the Crystal, was a collection of fragmented broken realities. Including hers. It hadn't kicked her out this time. "Oh geeze, someone broke the universe. I'm guessin' it wasn't under warranty. Or insured..?"

There was no insurance. There was just us.

"Heh, funny, but that loses the pun when you're not talkin' about justice... not that there was much of that either." Oh, Jack...

Much of the rest of the conversation her mind couldn't easily put into words. There was no Time for anyone else, and without Time they couldn't be hurt, or dead... or alive. They were preserved like bugs in amber, waiting for a remake of Jurassic Park. And that was going to be her job. Not resurrecting dinosaurs, but pulling everyone else into a new reality, like she'd done multiple times before with herself in the old one. And making sure, along the way, that even if they maybe weren't completely safe or textbook sane, they'd at least keep things consensual. In return, the powers behind the new reality would let her do what she'd wanted all along... because it was something they wanted to have happen as well.

And if they'd let her do that, she'd happily do whatever the voices in her head told her to do.