mandalus :: the city of fates.

[The feed turns on and there is total confusion as the feed turns on. There are holiday decorations that once looked so well put together, but now are hopelessly entangled about the horns.]

I was told that all I should take these down. And yet it appears that they have seen fit to try and turn me into a tree.

[With a sigh, the feed turns off.]

[When the audio starts up, there's a quiet sigh. Dean is so used to saying this now it's almost routine for him. There's the sound of calloused hands rubbing at stubble and another sigh right after.]

Just to let you all know, Sam Winchester and Ben Braeden went home. I know no one had business with them that I didn't already know about, so... [He groans a little, feeling like everything coming out of his mouth sounds stupid.]

Yeah, just a heads up. And no, I don't need anyone to bring me food or alcohol or to check up on me like I'm some kid who lost his mommy. I'm fine.

[And the call ends abruptly.]

[So hello there, Mandalus. Have a new face on your screen, and one who is not very happy to know that he is still not back home. He's also still at the beach, and its also pretty obvious that he's not alone - the are two other voices behind him, indistinct in their words but clearly in the middle of something. They can't really be seen for now though, because Lestrade's face is taking most of the screen now.

He's also pointedly ignoring whatever is happening in the background as he starts to speak.]

I think I've heard the gist of it from--well, them, or whatever you call those blokes, but I just need to know for clarification: giant serpent, multiple worlds hanging in the balance, something about a tree and we're all dragged here to fight a war or something?

[There's a pause, and Lestrade presses a hand to his face, muttering a few choice words under his breath.] Not this again, Christ-- Right. Let's get this over with.

[A sigh, and he shakes his head slight as he lowers his hand here, and Lestrade instantly gets to business.] Name's Greg Lestrade. The two blokes behind me would be John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. The three of us are from London-- [He bites his tongue here before he can make a remark along the lines of 'yes, we are who you think you are'. He has experience in that.] --and we would appreciate any more information and help we can get.

[Another pause, here. What else should he say? He doesn't exactly want to talk about his own circumstances - and more importantly they should all probably get settled. He's done this before and knows what to expect.]

And if there's anybody who's in charge here, I'd like to talk to them, if they don't mind. Cheers.

[And yep, just ending it right now. Before John does something dramatic behind him for other people to see.]


[OOC: Lestrade will be responding to most of the tags, but Sherlock and John might be threadjacking/joining in at some points, just as a note!]

[Cloud was stood in the snow at the beach, not quite shivering but obviously cold, and he was already trekking through it to make his way out of the cold weather and back to... well, that was the question; where was home here now? Was Tifa still there? Denzel? Sora? Ellie? It was a little difficult to get his bearings after so long.]

It's been a while. A lot's happened. [He sighed, shaking his head.] I don't need any updates. I can guess bad things happened; it's Mandalus.

[After a shiver finally runs through him, Cloud scowls at the cold.] Is Tifa still here?

[He'd seen her at home but he knew time froze for them when they came to this city so maybe, just maybe, she was still here.] I have apologies to make.

[Another sigh and Cloud hung up the phone.]

Despite the valiant efforts of the Honored Guests, the Cult of Mes'Klou simply refused to die. They also refused to give up on their ideals. Which meant that losing the Spaceport was only a temporary set back. During their time in control of the ruined relic of Mandalus history, the Cult had dug deep into the surface. There was something that had been lost that they were determined to find.

Cyril had been the man they picked to put their plans in motion.

They knew alternate routes that the Honored Guests did not. He blended past the behemoth starships, pressing the small box against his chest. It was made of pure dark iron and distorted glass. Inside seemed to be like a brewing storm. It was an honor to carry such a gift in his hands. Those hands shook in fear of endangering his important mission, but he knew that it was worth it. They would be rid of those who went against The Eternal Order and all would end to begin a new.

With a glance over his shoulder, Cyril threw his hood back. He stepped through what was once massive gates. The room below the Spaceport was truly a sight to see. Dead branches, roots and leaves hung and clung to the walls. He quickly bowed his head and pressed his hand to his forehead in prayer. The suffering would end and soon it would be corrected. All of it.

It took time to enter the part of the once sacred site he was looking for. The door that stood in front of him was massive, but those sacrilegious spaceships still dwarfed it. Hand carved into the stone was a depiction of a Mighty Serpent hovering above a Fair Mare. Surrounding them were humans and life forms of the stars. Depictions of the Gods rested around the two forces. It was truly the most sacred site of all--but even that had to come to an end.

With another prayer under his breath, Cyril placed the dark iron box at the foot of the doors. He pressed his hands together as he stepped back. The prayer was for the blessing of Mes'Klou; that he would be swift and merciful. Then he bowed to his knees and waited for the end.

The box exploded with darkness. It wrapped around the ever faithful Cyril and then swirled around the great door. Almost as if a force exploded from the darkness, the great door creaked. Cracks went across the beautiful hand carved art. As the door crumbled a great tremor came from the inside. The very ground of Mandalus began to shake. A powerful force seemed to be unleashed and cut through the darkness. The invisible force made its way out of the underground room and powered through the ground. It could be felt through out the city on the surface.

Somehow, the very universe seemed to tremble in fear.

---

With the force that caused the city of Mandalus to suffer tremors, something else was happening. There was a calling, an ancient distress beacon that was only sounded in the most desperate of times, calling for the gods of old. For the ones that once graced the world with their prescence. Simply because they no longer made themselves known on the planet, did not mean they no longer existed. There were a small handful that would answer to the distress beacon, that would come to Mandalus' aid when it was needed most.

If a person happened to be looking at the sky at the time of the tremors, they would see a blinding white light spiral around a few of the branches before striking the ground in the middle of a park. The light faded, leaving a crater behind, a smoking form laying in the middle. The moment his eyes open, every device in Mandalus goes off, broadcasting this man, this god. There are no cameras to film him, but somehow the Honored Guests of Mandalus are blessed to see this being. His dark hair was short, a thick, black line going from the inside corner of his left eye outwards towards his ear. He was dressed in black, in a style that was old back when the first C'Meni were young.

He climbed to his feet, dusting himself off. Looking up at the sky, he cursed in a language that no person in Mandalus had heard. No living being on the planet had heard it before. But from his tone, it was easily recognized to be not a good word. He climbed out of the crater, snow falling from the sky in fat clumps. But none of it seemed to touch him. He frowned greatly as he looked to the sky, examining the branches of the World's Tree. He huffed, throwing his hands in the air, before dropping them to his side.

"I am Kreyus, M'Vani of A'Vilgi," He intoned, voice deep and echoing. He cleared his throat and his voice came out much more normal. "What in the name of Messis did you people do to my tree?" He asked accusingly, eyes flashing a violent white-purple color.

[ During the blizzard as it rages on, a text message will appear over the network, courtesy of one (1) spirit of the winter. Because just as much as he enjoys bringing about a good winter storm or blizzard, even one like this is way too much for even him to handle.

So, naturally, he felt it absolutely necessary to make sure everyone knew that for once it wasn't his fault. ]

I didn't do this I swear. This blizzard is not my work.

[ ... Yep. ]

[Howard never seems to know when he has this thing on, but it doesn't matter because right now he's not even looking at the camera. He had been reaching for a pencil, it seemed, and he was frowning as he glanced at the readings on his screen.]

...that can't be right. Why would the barrier be showing this if the earthquake came from below us? And what does that have to do with the blizzard?

[He is muttering to himself, twirling the pencil in his hand, and he starts to write furiously. Calculations can be seen by the way he has the page angled, and he runs one hand through his dark hair, mussing the dark waves.]

[He called out behind him, to some unseen assistant.] Someone get me the chalkboards! [He glanced over at his notes again.] And a barrel filled with coffee. This is an all-nighter.

[With the Blizzard picking up the pace, most of the other people Herabec now worked with felt that they could slack a little in their duties. Herabec, however, knew better. During weather's worst, some people don't shirk their responsibilities and do them anyways; putting themselves and possibly others, in danger. Despite the weather's ill temper, and severe cold, Herabec was wearing only his normal long coat and armor. There were a couple extra socks on his feet, but that was all he needed.
He strode the streets, unhindered by the weather, occasionally stopping to help someone who was. All the while, keeping an eye out for anyone wanting to cause trouble.]

I should thank all those involved in the taking back of the USS Enterprise.

[ you know, belatedly.

there wasn't much else for her to do since it was still snowing (not her favorite weather) and she'd been thinking about it; it seemed wrong to stick to her crew, no matter how comfortable she was with them. she was here to help everyone, so she had to get to know the other 'guests'. not to mention several of them had been instrumental to reclaiming her home. it would be rude not to thank them. ]

Your assistance was extremely valuable. I don't know if the Captain has said but--

[ a tremor. even in the Enterprise, some things on the shelves in her quarters shook. she cut herself off, eyes widening as she glanced around. ]

.. What was that?

[ she was relatively new here, so probably best not to panic but.. ]

Is that normal? Did everyone feel that?

[ The audio clicks on to Tifa sighing. ]

I was going to open the bar this week. Then the news said that we're entering a blizzard. [ If it isn't one thing, it's always another. Isn't it? ] Once the storm clears? 7th Heaven will be open for business. I guess it's just waiting out the storm now...

If anyone happens to be in the Business District on the border to the Central District? You're more than welcome to stop by. We'll have blankets and hot meals and drinks. There's no point for any of us to be stuck out in this storm.

Are blizzards normal this time of year here?

[So it's been a month since Bruce himself has arrived at Mandalus, and he's sort of gotten used to things here, more or less. Of course, he wouldn't say for certain considering how things are here, but it's clear that he's sticking around regardless if he likes it or not. Which is not really the best thing for him, but--he's here, so might as well make the most out of it. Or something.

Anyway.]

Good day to all. [Hey, being polite is important, even if it doesn't seem to translate well through text... but Bruce isn't that all ready to just step up in front of a video camera, either.] There's been a fair amount of new people coming here recently, and although it has been said recently I'd just like to highlight something of fair importance.

If you are new and feel sick, please do go and see Dr. Leonard McCoy or Dr. Julian Bashir . There's a virus or something like that in this world that none of us foreigners are protected against, but there is a cure. If left untreated, this virus can lead you to your death, so please so visit them as soon as possible. You might be able to be resurrected around here, but that doesn't mean you should take chances all the same.

[If people can see the wry look he has on his face right now.]

Besides that - considering its nearly the end of the year, I suppose I will take the chance to wish everyone a happy new year. [Or whatever can count for that here...] Here's hoping we can take down the Serpent within the next year.

[And with that, he's done. Banner out.]

[There is a faint shuffling sound before a quiet, careful voice finally comes. It's clear Derek is keeping his voice down, mostly because he's not sure where he is or what just happened, and he doesn't think this is the best time to really start shouting or anything along those lines.]

...The people with the needles said this would contact everyone on this phone network. [He's skepitcal and it's clear from his tone.] If that's true, I'm looking for someone called Cora Hale. And answers would be pretty nice too, if anyone's listening.

[Derek goes quiet for a long moment and it almost seems like he's forgotten to end the recording before he speaks again, finally.] They said something about a war, and explained the injection being necessary, so we can understand each other, and that it's a cure. [He hesitates for a long moment.] A cure for what? [It's a sinking, horrible feeling that comes in the pit of his stomach when he realises he's feeling almost as weak as when the Lunar Eclipse happened recently, and that means he might be almost human.]

If anyone can explain any of this, call me. My name is Derek. [He sighs and ends the call.]

[The video function switches on to the face of a teenager, a spattering of moles splashed over his pale skin. He looks even paler in the sunshine, sunlight reflecting off of the snow. He visibly shivers, and his breath comes out in angry white clouds before dissipating. He's soaked to the skin, hair slicked back and clothing sticking to him like a second skin. Out on the beach in the middle of winter? Not a good place to be.] Okay, I have no idea how I got here but I'd like to not be here. If this supposed to be the afterlife, I'd really like to be brought back to the land of the living, Doc.

[The background starts to move as he moves barefoot through the snow covered sand, starting for the road.] Can you die twice? I mean, drowning in ice-cold water is one thing, but freezing to death in a place you don't even recognize? Completely different. And as much as I am against dying in the first place, it had to be done. [He glances down, expression filled with worry.] Hell, I don't even know if this damn thing works--

[He shakes his head, glancing left then right.] Man, I hope someone can hear this. Anybody know where the nearest bus stop is?

You could have just asked, really, popping up into other people's timelines and kidnapping them is rude--not that I've had any experience--but you can't wander in to a fixed point of time despite any and all barriers against it lowering, it's called common courtesy, you ought to learn a bit and just be polite, I was doing something rather important and was busy, broken sky or not--

[ Oh, hello, Mandalus. There's a British 20-something dressed like an Oxford professor that's greeting your vision today. He's a little ruffled, and if you're adapt enough you an see even a rambling madman is a little preoccupied with something--he keeps glancing up at the sky. As for the scenery, he's along the beach--sopping wet, of course, and being snowed on, but the cold doesn't seem to bother him. If anything, he completely ignores it and adjusts his bow tie before looking back up. Where exactly he's propping his phone up to get a view of himself is a bit of a mystery.

Regardless, his rant cuts off because he's more than a little distracted, gaze still turned upwards before producing a small electronic device that looks far more like a pen than anything fancy. He shakes it, points it to the sky, and it lights up green. ]

--Another good reason why you shouldn't kidnap people other than they just don't like it would probably be that time parallels and dimensional vortexes are delicate delicate things, all jiggly but fragile like china bobble heads: you can throw them but they shatter unless-- [ Whatever he's got he lowers and peers at it, a frown curling on his lips as his voice softens. ]

--No, wait, shut up, that doesn't make sense, terrible metaphor, forget I said a thing. Cracks in the sky--cracks that look like trees. Different timelines, different dimensions, maybe just a fancy art project, maybe just a broken generated field, maybe not. Maybe. But leaving, no--leaving's not an option for you lot, is it? You can pull people out but you can't trust them enough to let them stay on their own, is that it?

[ He's certainly got a more serious tone of voice now, and while the sonic object goes away and he addresses the camera far more angered than he had been previously. ]

Right, if you've pulled me here than you know who I am and you know what I am capable of. I don't like being a caged rat and I don't like being in a trap and you've just put me in both. I am the Doctor and you never, never, put the Doctor in a trap.

It seems it's that time of year. The story here is a bit different then what we celebrate at home, but the sentiment seems the same. I was thinking perhaps of hosting a party. Another fund raiser of course, with the procedes going to rebuilding what was lost in the recent fight.

( Private to family, Peggy and The Spine )

[ When the feed starts, it is obvious that Kirk is feeling better. Color is back in his face and minus the stiff way he moves? He looks like his old self. Almost. There's still the lingering signs that he's fighting off the sickness--or his body is adapting to it. Whatever. ]

Hey, Mandalus. [ A nod. ] For those who don't know me? My name is Captain James T. Kirk. And, if you're new to the city and we haven't had the pleasure of meeting? Welcome to the city and the war. Not that it's really where any of us want to be. We all have something going on back home that we'd like to attend to. If you have any questions that haven't been answered about the city? You're more than welcome to ask.

Also? Take a moment to look at the sky if you haven't. That should put this whole war into context. [ Those who look at the sky will note that it looks like it's cracked and broken open in branch like patterns. ]

Down to business. The fact is? The city isn't under control of the Cult but the Starport is. What little we do know of Mandalus' past is that they operated in space for a time. There is evidence of trading with other planets. What remains of that culture is the Starport, but there has always been something else there too. Something that messes with the scans of even the most advanced ship of the fleet of my universe, the USS Enterprise. Whatever that is? I'm pretty sure that is the reason why they're still at the Starport.

I need a team of people willing to go in with me and stop whatever it is they are up to. It might be the chance we need to disrupt their plans and get a step ahead in this war.

[ He lets out a deep sigh, wondering what the hell else he can add to this. ] Also, for new people? If you start feeling sick? Make sure you visit either Dr. Leonard McCoy or Dr. Julian Bashir. Your bodies aren't adapting to the planet fully if you are showing symptoms of extreme illness. The doctors have figured out a fix for it. Make sure you take them up on the offer.

Stark, I think we also need to finish our conversation about that network idea you had. [ A grin goes out to Tony Stark. ]

Kirk out.

( [ Encrypted Private Message to the Enterprise Crew ] )

[Jane's a little disoriented, and standing on a beach. A snowy beach. At least she has a warmish coat on over her dress?]

Okay, um, so. I was in London? And now I'm here. Joy. Um, Hi, I'm Jane Foster, and I'm at a loss as to where I am exactly, and other than some Serpent, I have no idea why I am here, either. Would anyone happen to know if a Darcy Lewis is here? Or what was his name? Darcy's intern, Ian? I know I last saw them before showing up here.

[well, before she went poking around portals and wormholes, and wound up in another dimension with a substance that would destroy the very fabric of the universe, but she's not going to say that, not yet. She's not sure what happened, exactly, and arriving here? Not helping.]

[And then her machete hit sand, sinking in a little. Ellie yanked it back out, sending sand flying off to the side. Snow was falling, and Ellie climbed to her feet quickly, getting a brief look at her surroundings. There was a man standing a few feet away, a man she didn't know, and Ellie aimed the machete at him, hands trembling a little. She tightened her hold on the handle. The man tried to approach her, starting to speak in a soothing tone and Ellie would have none of it. She let out a wild yell, swinging the machete. He flinched away, the machete grazing him, but not cutting all the way through his arm. He took a dozen steps back, fiddling with the phone intended for her. He chose the function which put a call out to every Honored Guest.]

Kind and benevolent Honored Guests. One of your own has returned and she is...dangerous. She will not let me approach her, and perhaps one of you could appeal to her?

[He turned the device, showing Ellie, covered in blood and sand, gripping a dirty machete.]

If any of you know her, please, come to the beach and try to calm her down. With that weapon, she is a danger to herself and others. Many thanks.


{Spoilers for late in The Last of Us. Winter, more specifically.}

[ Being escorted to beach is not what Clara was expecting when she stepped out of the TARDIS after the Doctor--her Doctor. Not the one with the suit or the one who fought all those wars. The one she knows. Clara isn't really sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't a beach with snow--hang on, snow?--and a fellow in a robbed outfit talking to her. ]

Sorry. Hang on. I was just somewhere else. Now I'm here. On a beach. With snow. [ The audio is on, but it is obvious that Clara and the person she's talking to don't notice. The man actually speaks in hushed tones that the phone can't pick up. ] Okay. Where's the Doctor? I was just with him--wait. Did you say...?

Yes, my Honored Guest. Mandalus.

[ There's a long silence. Clara feels as if a truck hits her with a sudden wave of memories. Mandalus--that was the place with the war. Wasn't it? She's lived way too many lives and normally memories from them don't even hit her. Except she knows that it wasn't some echo in Mandalus. It was her. Clara Oswald, the Soufflé Girl. If she remembers right? There's no point in actually asking to be sent home or where the Doctor is. She's somewhere else and she'll eventually go home. Just like she did before.

The video clicks on to show a slightly older looking Clara. ]

Hi... there. [ Oh, awkward. ] My name is Clara Oswald and I've been here before. Blimey, that was a long time ago it seems. Almost like lifetimes. [ Haha, in jokes. ] Anyways that isn't important. What's important is that someone tells me what's happened since I was gone. Did we win? Is that snake thing gone? And has the beach always had a ton of snow, or is that new?

[ Clara bites her lip. ] Ellie, Dean, you're still here, yeah? [ Hopefully, oh and-- ] Tony, Donna? Please tell me someone is still here. Someone I knew from before.

[ Then with a hesitant wave, Clara turns off the video and starts to try to wade through the snow. Although she is totally not dressed for snow. ]

[ There's a cough that she can't stop when Elena manages to open up the video. She's on a beach, which was not where Elena had expected herself to be, not after the cells. Not after the testing ]

Hello? I-- [ She was confused, and trying to fight off the urge to cough again. This wasn't right, she shouldn't-- couldn't be sick. Had there been a werewolf in there too? ] --Does anyone know of a Damon? Or even Wes?

[ She didn't want Wes to answer, particularly not Wes. At least with Damon she'd feel a little safer - a little more like they could escape ]

What city is this? There wasn't any beach near me.

[ Which wasn't quite important, not as important as knowing where she was. She had to focus, but she didn't know how when there was so much unknown, or even what was happening to her. What had she been injected with and what were the Augustines planning? ]

Nevermind. I'm not going to do anything, I just want to get out of here. Please.