Reality Crisis

Piotr was a man of the people. He made friends easily. They flocked to him. He was giant, but he was gentle. A happy guy. And happy to help them with whatever they needed, pretty much whenever they needed it. He did take some time for himself so he could spend it with Kitty and the dragon. Or just Kitty. But most of the time, he was in the street, doing things that needed to be done. Big or small, there was nothing that he wouldn't do if it was within his abilities.

It just so happened that on this day, somebody had found an old letter written in funny symbols. They had brought it to Piotr not for him to translate, but to see if he had seen it before, anything like it, or if he thought that it should go to Belia. It could be spy code, after all, or alien messages. Piotr had laughed and said that it was nothing so spectacular. Just Russian.

"No, you see..." He pointed at a line on the paper, indicating it to a man who held a look on his face akin to a deer in headlights. He had not expected to get a language lesson out of this, and was suddenly thinking about regretting his choice. "It is a love letter. This line here, it says it all. Pomni, ya vsеgda ryadom, remember, I am always next to you. Vsyo pad kontrolem, everything is under control. Ya tebya lyublyu, I love you. This man was very fond of this woman, my friend. It is no spy letter or a warning of any kind."

"Oh. Uh, that's great, thanks."

"Do you mind terribly if I keep this?" Piotr didn't want to take anything from a citizen of die Festung, but it had been so long since he'd last seen his language written down anywhere. And the sentiments behind the letter were the sort that he thought Kitty would like to see. They were hopeful. Loving. Joyful.

"No, that's fine. I should go, though. I'll talk to you later."

"Da. Have a nice day!" Piotr looked at the letter again, then glanced around for a place to sit so he could read the rest.

"This time don't share with anyone all right?" Faith had gone out of her way the last couple of days to make sure this little girl she'd been keeping track of had got enough food to eat. The problem was she kept giving it to other people which was kind of defeating the purpose. "I'll make sure the others got what they need, got it?" The stupid little moppet nodded earnestly and Faith knew even though she was going to eat some of it once again tomorrow she'd be hungry and without food. This sucked. They needed an organized place to go but she was so not the organizing and fixing kind of person.

You needed a bully beat up, she was your girl, you needed something administrative done you might as well be talking Martian.

She just shook her head watching the little form run off around a corner then everything changed.

Faith was leaning against a wall with her arms crossed practically vibrating with anger. "Ought to kick your ass big guy." Kitty was there and she looked just as angry. Only with both of them you'd have to know them to see it since they could both smile sweetly while they kicked your balls up into the back of your throat.

Sylar knew what Peter's wizard friends looked like. They had long been a source of both curiosity and anger for him. He knew full well that the wizards and given Peter a way to shut down his own powers and Sylar could only guess that Peter was working with them to find a way to shut down Sylar's powers.

Sylar was determined not to let that happen. He was also intensely curious about magic. Was it genetic? If so, could he read that ability like he had with so many other wonderful, special abilities?

He had changed faces so many times lately in an effort stay hidden. He knew that Peter and his new superpowered friends would be looking for him. He knew that the confrontation would come soon. He just wanted it on his terms.

Today, he was outside the wall. The zombies seemed to be gone and life was starting to return to normal. Sylar wasn't sure where Peter might be hiding out and he'd given his word to Bane that he wouldn't storm the walls of Sanctuary looking for his foe. So instead, he was waiting out here while he contemplated his next move.

When one of the wizards walked by, Sylar grinned. He wouldn't have to go in after Peter. He knew exactly how to flush the other man out.

Carlos wouldn't even see Sylar coming. He didn't stop to take on a familiar face. He didn't stop to play games. He simply made sure that they were out of sight of any of the guards and raised his finger to point. His telekinesis sliced through the delicate skin on the wizard's forehead. As soon as the limp body fell to the ground, Sylar was there, looking. Searching.

A slow grin spread across his face as he realized that magic was, in fact, genetic. It might take some time to learn how to use the abilities properly, but the base skill could be obtained simply enough with a little bit of study of the brain. This world was a whole new candyshop for him. Where he'd thought that he'd obtained every ability that could be of use to him back in his world, now he realized that the possibilities were endless in this new world.

It was just one of those days where Faith was bored...you know the days that end in 'y'...so she was out on one of her restless walks trying to find something to do that didn't cause property damage or end up with a hangover. The property damage was negotiable of course.

There was the regular bars she tended to hit up for the crap alcohol they made but she just couldn't seem to settle into a routine here. No specific goals or Watchers to fight against. No one to understand and help her find her way through the dark spots in her mind.

Today it worked out that she got a nice surprise and it chased away the boredom and the restlessness.

"Yo! Big guy!" Faith saw a very familiar figure and she decided to give him a Faith greeting. That consisted of her running and jumping up to hug him around the neck so see if he'd catch her or be so caught off guard she'd end up on her ass. Either way was acceptable.

Piotr loved snow. It reminded him of growing up in Siberia. He had always loved it, even if it meant that he had to work in it. He loved the way that it made the house feel so small and cozy, he loved the feeling of walking out of a warm room into the cold. He loved how clean and new snow made everything look. He loved to play in it, too.

So when the first snow of the season came, and Piotr heard celebrating out in the streets, he didn't even think to bother with putting on the rest of his clothes. He ran outside wearing just the jeans he'd been lounging in.

"Kayta, come!" He called as he headed out the door, but didn't wait for her. His excitement was too great. At least there was one thing here that was like home. Better, it seemed, because all the people of die Festung were celebrating. He could really get to like this festival.

His bare feet crunched in the fresh fall, and he waded out through the revelers. His smile was huge and his laughter came very easily. Within moments, he found himself in a mini snowball war with a few kids.

The large Russian had consumed his power bar quickly. It was not enough to actually sustain him for long. But he felt better snacking here and there rather than eating a huge meal in front of everyone as often as he really wanted to do it. It meant that he was always a little bit hungry, but he was okay with that.

Within moments, however, the hulking man had a bit of a goofy look on his face and was tooling around the streets of die Festung with a slow gait, hands in his pockets. It was the casual stride of a youth with very few cares in the world. The place he was in seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't be sure of the why.

"Da. Hello." He said to a passerby who greeted him and apparently knew him. His accent, if it was at all possible, seemed thicker. Less Americanized. "Have you seen my father? No? Is he in the field? No?"

Confused, Piotr moved along. He didn't understand why all these people were so short. He was a massive youth, he knew, at just thirteen years old, but he wasn't that big. He wondered if he had fallen asleep and been brought to another collective. Where all the people were tiny.

"Dobry den!" He said to another man, who smiled widely and began to walk closer. If this man knew him, and was also a part of a collective, then he should have no problem with the Russian. Piotr's mind didn't even work through to that conclusion, it was just natural. "Kak u vas dela? Chem ty seychas zanimaeshsya?"

Piotr frowned when the man did, not understanding. "Why do you look at me like this? It is the mother tongue! You should have no problems with it. I speak it no differently. This collective cannot be so far away from my own that we have switched dialects. Zhdu vashego otveta!"

He was becoming frustrated.

Dinah and Bruce had found Clark first. It was a good thing they had because a wizard named Carlos had found them, claiming to be sent by Peter. Both the Bat and the Canary had been hesitant to trust his story, but Clark was the human-or Kryptonian, at any rate-lie detector. Clark had been able to reassure them that Carlos was telling the truth, and that Kitty was actually Kitty when they'd run across her on their way into Sanctuary, Magneto's village.

Dinah felt a fresh wave of guilt as she realized that Kitty had been attacked, most likely by the same shapeshifter that had attacked her. She'd given Kitty and Piotr's names to the fake Oliver. She would apologize to Kitty later, not that she thought that would cover it. For now, however, they needed to band together and find a way to stop the shapeshifter.

The guards must have known they were coming. Or at least, they'd expected Carlos to bring back people, because the small group had been escorted straight to a building that looked large enough to be used as some sort of meeting hall, yet was on the outskirts of town and seemed to be well-guarded to prevent eavesdroppers she supposed.

Dinah was curious at the prospect of meeting the enigmatic leader of this little outpost. She'd certainly heard her share of rumors about Erik Lensherr, and she was unsure of his motives or of his character. But if he was to work with them on this, then she supposed she would get the chance to see more of who he was and whether or not he could be trusted.

Dinah was somber as they were let into the building. She knew that they were in for the fight of their lives and so she didn't have time for the guilt over her misplaced trust and the fact that she'd risked live because of it.

Sam was still deep in research-mode. No answers yet, but one of those books had to have an answer... didn't it? It was frustrating to go this long without figuring anything out, and it made him miss Bobby even more. Back home, getting stuck like this would prompt a call to Bobby who almost always had some sort of memory of arcane lore that nobody else could possibly hope to know about.

As a result of the frustrations of not finding anything to help them with that library demon, Sam was missing meals. And when he did venture out, he wasn't always paying attention to where he was going.

Today was one such day where he was lost in thought and didn't realize that he was about to collide with someone until he ran straight into something as solid as, well, metal. He looked up and rubbed at the back of his neck, wincing in pain just a bit as he took in the sight of what-or rather, who-he had collided with.

She'd been rescued from the Joker. Things were sort of a blur after that. Dinah had gotten medical attention, but she hadn't been cleared to leave the hospital. Apparently the City and whatever forces were behind the world containing die Festung had another plan in mind.

Her legs were bandaged, mercifully. Dinah wasn't one to let injuries keep her down, but in this world there was always the chance of some sort of crazy infection. Particularly when landing on the outskirts of the faerie forest.

Dinah was disoriented at first, particularly because she had been on pain medication in the hospital. She did know that she needed to get to safety. And after taking the time to focus on her surroundings, she knew that the cave wasn't too far away. There was a good chance that Bruce would be there but if he wasn't, there were medical supplies there. Whether or not she would be able to make the trip was another question.

Piotr was out in the wilds, searching again. This time he had no particular goal in mind, but he did want to see what was out there. The last time he'd found a lake, after all. The lake had been a signal to his brain that not everything here was bad. While a good bit of it might have been sour notes, Piotr refused to dwell on those kinds of things, he didn't like feeling like that.

Once again, he was traveling in metal. Though he'd not met any zombies or wild dog packs on previous visits, it would have been unlike him to be prepared for whatever might come. While coated with metal, he could at least fend off any surprise attacks.

He only encountered one dead spot, thankfully. Even better was that there didn't seem to be anyone around for miles when he walked right into it. He stood in the center for a moment, seeing what it felt like, trying to imagine how panicked Kitty would be. He couldn't transform at all. It didn't even feel to him as if he had a power. After living most of his life with his abilities, this made Piotr very uncomfortable.

The second he moved out of it's borders, he was able to do everything again. Carefully, using very large stones that he had found nearby, Piotr marked the edges of the area. He didn't know if it would still be there the next time somebody came by, or if these things moved, but the least he could do was try.

Going on his way, Piotr thought he heard something nearby. What sounded like dogs growling. Fighting, maybe. He might have left them to it, but for a moment there he thought he'd also heard a voice. A living male voice. Briefly.

Piotr turned in that direction and sprinted forward.

Logan hadn't had much time to learn from Eric before everything had been ripped away. He'd been avoiding Veronica in the time when he'd been learning about being a vampire because he needed time to learn control. Right now, he was having a hard time separating his hungers and he didn't want to risk hurting her.

Logan never had been great with self-control after all. So craving blood and hunting for that blood without killing required practice. A lot of practice.

Eric had been a good mentor, and he was certainly getting there.

Then everything had gone topsy-turvy and now he was just outside the wall of some dilapidated city. Whatever this place was, Logan had a sinking feeling that he might not be able to find an X-Box or anything else even remotely fun. In fact, if it weren't for the armed guards sitting at the entrance to the wall, he would have had his doubts that anything was alive in this place. Wherever he was, it sort of looked like a bomb had been dropped.

By this time, Logan was on his way to starving and he was getting just a little bit cranky at the idea of the City fucking with him yet again.

Piotr decided it was finally time for him to meet this man that Molly was living with. It was both an urge to protect her and make sure that she was safe where she was - and an urge to know the man whom ran the compound that had been his first home on this strange planet. Since he was visiting the forest more regularly, Piotr thought that it was high time.

So he waited near the entrance for some sign of life within. Molly didn't seem to be around currently, so there was nobody to talk to to pass the time. Instead, he sat on a rock, poking a stick gently at the ground. Gently because he didn't want to piss off fairies. A mantra he'd picked up and never been able to let go of.

When he heard the sounds of somebody walking nearby, Piotr stood again to look.

After his talk with Hannibal, Piotr's mind kept straying back to his friend in the forest. He had left with the intention of returning soon, but then he'd found Kitty and his plans had been usurped. Now he was back to wondering about his friend and worrying about the fact that he hadn't left a note to say where he was going or how long he'd be gone. Of course, there hadn't really been any way to do that.

Piotr made the decision to check on the camp. He left a note for Kitty that he would be out for a little while, but that he would return before nightfall and he would be sure to be safe. He left the note on the nightstand and left their apartment.

Now that he had more of an idea of the layout, getting back to the forest was pretty easy. He went in steel, because he'd promised Kitty he would be safe, and that was the safest way he knew to be.

The forest loomed in front of him, and he entered it cautiously but confidently. He knew not to piss off the fairies. But he'd also lived here for a bit, so he didn't feel as if he would be unwelcome by them.

When he got to the edge of the camp, he stopped. He didn't feel as if it was his place to just go in unannounced anymore.

"Ragged Lady?" Piotr called out. "Hello? It is Piotr."

Kitty stretched as finally pulled herself out of whatever coma she'd slipped into. Clean up was taking its toll on the X-man, even if she was used to some harsh conditions. She blinked as she realized she was also wrapped up in a very large set of arms. She would never complain, not exactly, but she was pretty certain those large set of arms and the body they were attached to had been above the covers when she'd managed to crawl into bed after a shower. There was a good reason for wanting the large body to be on top of rather than below the covers, a sort of good one anyway. She'd not had a chance to clean clothes, so she was not exactly the most dressed X-men - Emma Frost would be so proud.

She squirmed a little, and stopped once she realized that she was not in the best dressed situation to start squirming. She hadn't even thought of what the big body behind her was or wasn't wearing. Not exactly. Her brows furrowed, and she felt herself begin to flush.

"Piotr?" She patted one of the hands. At least she seemed to have a sheet protecting her from wayward hands and anything else? So, yay, a big of cotton was keeping her virtuous, more or less. Again, she wasn't going to complain, but she didn't know how to handle this. She certainly wasn't going to kick the Russian out of bed for breaking the somewhat unspoken above the covers rule. Or had he bent it more than broken it? He wasn't under all the covers after all.

Piotr wasn't sure what the hell was going on. In all the worlds he'd been to, all the alternate timelines, he'd never once seen vermin falling from the sky. It was disturbing, and he felt bad for all the little creatures that were dying in the process. They weren't the sort of things that would garner sympathy from a lot of folks, since they weren't bunnies and kittens. But to Piotr, a life was a life, and these animals had done nothing to deserve being splattered across the ground after what must have been a terrifying fall.

He was standing in the doorway of one of the buildings, he wasn't quite sure which. He hadn't meant to dunk into any that wasn't his own, but it was hard to see where you were going when your view was blocked by this rain.

"Chyort voz'mi!" The Russian spilled out of his mouth instead of English due to his agitation and frustration. He also thought that he was the only one around. It made more sense to talk to himself in Russian.

"Chto za huy is going on in this loh world?"

He looked up at the sky, but he didn't see anything abnormal outside of the animals. He had kind of hoped that he would see a special cloud or maybe an airship of some kind with people tossing the animals out.


Words "Damn it, shit/what the fuck/stupid"

Steve had spent the previous few days recovering from his fall on Faith's couch, periodically venturing out to learn more about the camp. As soon as the hail of vermin from the sky began, Steve decided he needed to do something about it. His meeting with Belia had been brief and to the point, but she had seemed receptive to his ideas about dealing with the plague.

Even with Belia's blessing, he had no real authority with which to give anyone orders. But when Steve Rogers spoke, people tended to listen. And so he was found standing amidst a crowd of onlookers, beneath a hastily erected tent fashioned out of a pair of parachutes. Creatures pattered against the reinforced canvas, spilling off the edges in a deluge. A surprisingly detailed sketch of the camp had been sketched on a salvaged blackboard, propped against a pile of rubble. Steve wore his red, white and blue uniform, his cowl pulled back to reveal his face for the onlookers. "-we've already done a decent job of reinforcing homes and food stores against the vermin, so now we need to focus on clearing out as many as possible." He indicated to four large circles on the map.

"We're going to turn these intersections into dumping sites. We'll cordon off the sites with sheet metal and plywood, with one entryway apiece." He looked at the others. "Everyone who volunteers will be set on cleaning detail. Crews will be in two phases. Kill crews will sweep a street and any abandoned buildings and kill as many vermin as possible, dumping the corpses in the street. Clean-up crews will follow and shovel the bodies into vehicles or wheelbarrows, which will then take them to dump sites." Steve turned back to the crowd. "Everyone needs to wear the heaviest clothing they have, preferably hooded. I'm asking anyone with extras to donate them to the group, and I'll see that they are returned when this is all over."

A few people in the crowd were grumbling, clearly unimpressed by the plan. Steve crossed his arms. "I know some of you think the best solution might be to just lock yourselves in your homes and wait this out. But you'd be wrong. This is your city. You built it up with your sweat and blood and hard work, and now it's all of you to keep it safe. And I'll be there with you, every step of the way." He put his hands on his hips. "Well what are we waiting for?"

The crowd dispersed as people set about getting to work. Steve smiled to himself as they did, and headed out himself, his next stop the make-shift infirmary which had been set up to deal with the animal bites. He still might not know where or when the hell he was, but he was helping people and that was good enough for Captain America at the moment.

Piotr had left the camp in the fairy forest once again. This time, to explore the cities. He had yet to meet the man that Ragged Lady had called her partner, and it felt strange to him to be staying in a place where he hadn't yet met the leader. He hadn't seen Ragged Lady in some time, either. He wasn't sure if he was just missing them each time he came back, or if they had gone elsewhere. He wouldn't abandon them entirely, of course. But he didn't feel like he could wait any longer to discover what else was out there in this world. Especially not after talking to Castiel. The angel had given him much to think about in terms of being a savior for this place. Piotr had just assumed that it would be a natural thing for him, taking up that role. But Castiel had said something about the people that had made Piotr curious.

There was no way to leave a note, given that he had no paper and no pencils. He supposed he could have written a message in the dirt in front of Ragged Lady's door, but he thought that it might get rubbed away before she got it, and wasn't sure if it would piss off the fairies. So far, he'd managed to avoid the latter, but from the way it sounded, he could never know for sure what would cause it. So there was nothing there to say that he was going exploring and they should not worry for him.

He didn't really know in which directions the two cities were, he hadn't asked. But he knew that die Festung was the closer of the two. Unsure about direction, Piotr picked one at random and went that way. At least he knew that if he got lost, he had a way to protect himself from hunger and fatigue. A thing that had been very helpful in his normal life, but was doubly so in this world.

Piotr wasn't in a hurry, and he carried nothing with him, having nothing to carry. He wanted to explore the cities, but what had been said about Belia from two different sources now was enough to make him wary of meeting her. Or even walking into her territory for that matter. She didn't seem like a nice person to him. Certainly not a selfless one. The things she did, according to Piotr's sources, she did for herself. He had yet to hear much about the other leader. Only that New Troy had been taken over by somebody who was one of the Chosen, and a rumor about how violent that end had been.

It did enter his mind that he wanted to find Owen again to tell him about the lake. Perhaps Owen would be in die Festung, despite how he'd felt about the place. Or maybe he was in New Troy. Piotr couldn't know for sure, of course. He could only hope to run into his friend again.

After the discussion with Owen about beaches and what water might be out there, Piotr had become determined to find some. He refused to believe that the entire world that they were on was devoid of water. He knew that venturing out by himself might be dangerous with the zombies he'd been told about, but he was still confident that any biting would be tempered by his steel.

He'd yet to be told otherwise.

Piotr set out early one morning, setting aside the entire day for his search. He wasn't foolish about it though, he transformed before leaving. Not only would it give him protection, but when covered in his steel, he didn't need to eat or drink, or breathe, or rest. It was perfect all around for the environment he was going to be in.

His walk took him much further from the fairy forest than he had thought it would, but he was eventually rewarded with a lake. In the middle of all the devastation, it was a beautiful sight. Peaceful waters stretching out over the land. He couldn't tell if it was contaminated or not, and wasn't really willing to risk testing it himself. But he bottled some in an empty metal tube he'd constructed before he left, and squeezed the top of it firmly shut. Maybe Ragged Lady could tell, or her partner.

Looking around, and feeling pretty sure that he was safe, Piotr transformed back and had a seat on a rock. He wanted to spend some time here, just looking. He'd learned many things, some of which were very troubling, and he needed time to think.

Dean growled in frustration. The roads weren’t much more than dirt and gravel, and with some recent rain, they’d become soup in some places. He had thought he could navigate the road well enough, but his baby was telling him otherwise. All he’d done was stop the Impala long enough to have a snack of mystery meat sandwich and bottled water; it wasn’t a long meal, but it seemed to be long enough.

He hit the steering wheel, not at all caring about the horn’s blare. He almost started to hit it repeatedly. He hadn’t gone out far from Belly’s city; he was just checking conditions. Actually he was taking his baby for a ride because he couldn’t stand being in one place for long sometimes.

“Son of a bitch!” He hit the steering wheel again before sitting back and breathing. Life was not what he’d thought it’d be, ever. Not even when he’d gone to the future to see just how jacked up it could get. Now he was sitting in a world similar to that one, and he was the sole person responsible for getting his baby stuck in the mud. His head bowed forward, and he took a few breaths to calm himself.

“Right.” He knew how to get a car out of the mud, and he was kicking himself for not bringing along the Sasquatch. He could have made Sam get out and push.

----

Piotr heard the sound of a car horn, and it startled him out of the quiet moment he’d been taking. He hadn’t known people here had cars. He’d never even imagined, actually. He had thought that with the way the world was, all of them would be gone. Yet, here was the loud noise that could only come from a vehicle. It had been distinct in direction, and he followed a rather meandering path to get there, being careful of fairies and other things he might piss off.

Ragged Lady had said to not piss off the fairies. He was doing his very best to follow that command.

When he broke through the edge of the woods, he saw it. An old Impala. It was very firmly stuck in mud, what looked to Piotr to be a large swath of the stuff. Even if the car could have been pushed out of it’s current rut, there was at least 20 more feet that it could get stuck again.

He stood by the side of the road, not sure if his help was even wanted. It was possible that this man was one of those who wanted to do it all themselves, even if the task was near impossible. Piotr knew men like that, and the best thing to do was to offer help and wait.

“Hello. Are you in need of some help?” He called out.
( Right. You're Superman's Slavic cousin... )

Owen left after the meeting with Belia and walked straight to his things, gathering them from the place he had left them. Everything that was happening was too much to be believed, but everyone seemed to be behaving as if the party line was acceptable, hook, line, and sinker. Something about the woman made him think of the worst of Percy and Amanda rolled into one, but he couldn't begin to pinpoint why. Something seemed off.

Things gathered, he walked out of the compound and away from this crude form of civilization. He needed time to process this new input, and he couldn't do it with visual reminders of the confusion all around him. So he walked through the ruined streets and took in the evidence of a world destroyed. A world that wasn't his at all, but might be the only one that he'd ever have. A world without those closest to him, where he'd languish as an outsider. A world where he would be forever overshadowed by others that fell through, for when it's all said and done, how do you compete with a superhero? How do you compete with a conceived notion of the best of the human race? Or the worst, for that matter. Shining lights and deeper darknesses were both now equally likely in this 'new' reality.

He hadn't paid attention to his trek until he neared to the edge of the broken city, near the forest. Throwing down the duffel bag, Owen sat on the rubble of a shattered wall and sighed, looking up at a night sky full of constellations that he couldn't recognize. Was there even a way to get back home? Could he find it? More importantly, could he bring himself to do the things that he might have to do in order to find it? Sure as he was most of the time, Owen had never felt more lost than he did right then. All he wanted was a sharp quip from Nikita or Birkhoff, or even Micheal's disapproving glare. At this point, he'd settle for just being under a sky he could recognize as his own.