Reality Crisis

A lot had happened in a brief period of time. From the earthquakes to Peter's rapid personality turnaround to getting hurt as a result and then healed. A part of Carlos just wanted to hide out in his newly repaired apartment and have a quiet day for a change. But that wasn't an option. There was still the matter of figuring out what had happened to the people who had had rapid mood swings. They needed to find out the cause and find a way to make sure that it didn't happen again. Even with all the damage that had been done, Carlos knew full well that they'd all been lucky. Someone with Peter's abilities could have finished the entire human race on this planet.

Carlos knew one person that he trusted enough to get to the bottom of things. After all, Harry had figured out a whole lot stranger. Not to mention that he would always be the guy who'd ridden a freaking zombified dinosaur skeleton into the middle of an army of zombies to stop a ritual that would have created a god.

So once Carlos got a full bill of health from the very surprised doctor who'd been watching over him, he made his way to Harry's apartment. He just hoped that the big guy was home. And preferably not making time with Murphy. Carlos wasn't big on intruding on those sorts of intimate moments.

Once in the basement of the Chosen building, he knocked on the door to Harry and Murphy's apartment.

After a rather heated 'conversation' in which he made it clear he was NOT drinking something that looked a lot like milk Ed managed to piece together a pile of 'ham' sandwiches. Once outside again he took the time to finally examine the world he had fallen into. Broken and falling apart were polite. "It's like Liore, only less hopeful. Great." Well, that was the intended thought. Around mouthfuls of food it came out more jumbled and less intelligible.

Not really having a clue where to start he sat down on a broken wall to make some notes and review the situation. So they aren't familiar with Alchemy here. At least that's the claim. I'm pretty sure that Peter guy is hiding a Stone someplace, but if he is...why not just FIX things? With a heavy sigh and a stomach that was emptier than he'd like (would a bag of chips or one of Mrs. Hughes' pies be too much to ask?) he started looking around for something to do. "Welp, they could definitely use some help here." He found one particular structure that was taller than the rest and looked like it had been more stable and well constructed prior to the earthquake.

He had snatched a few pieces of paper and a pencil from the hospital and sta about working out a blueprint. With something that big he wanted an idea of where he was going. Quick works for solid structures or temporary ones. This he wanted to get right.

“AL!” The word echoed through Edward’s mind as he fell. Had it worked? Was Al back in his body? No chance to find out...Ed was back at the Gate. All around him was black...clawing, grasping black hands and those damned weird eyes. Again, Edward found himself in front of the gate and again it had demanded a price. His life for his brother’s and it was an easy trade. The only problem was he didn’t stop at the Gate. Edward wasn’t quite dead yet and it was starting to bother him.

“Think...what happ...” Before he could finish the thought a blinding white line opened in the blackness around him. Slowly it began to widen, as if watching the Gate open from the other side and again Edward found himself falling. It seemed as if he would fall forever in this blinding white. Unfortunately for Ed, the concrete he found himself on had different ideas. “Ow!” As the boy was picking himself up and checking for injuries he was also observing his surroundings.

It was dark, but not quite as dark as the Gate. Stone floor...check. Correction, MOVING stone floor. "I hope I didn't do that!" As the ground beneath him continued to rock, Ed slowly went on with his survey of the area. Man made walls, some thirty feet in each direction, and a few catwalks near a high vaulted ceiling. “I must be in some kind of warehouse. Alright, let’s get a bit of light and see what I'm working with,” there was a sharp CLAP! as Ed brought his hands together sharply, then slapped them down on the floor in front of himself. A flood of bluish light and a rather large transmutation circle began to etch itself in the floor as the stone began to change into a mix of magnesium and phosphorus. As the circle became complete Edward stepped back and began looking once again at his surroundings, now illuminated in the bright flame that was coming to life behind him.

[[Anyone in about a one block radius would notice a large flash of blueish light that quickly fades and is replaced by the rather unique white/red of a road flare on a massive scale pouring through the large windows of a warehouse. The light is accompanied by the sound of a magnesium/phosphor fire]]

It'd become a strange sort of routine to sit on the floor against the wall her studio flat shared with Aidan's one-bedroom next door. Months ago, the rattling of the wall would tell her that he was in, and that he was struggling. Now, it was always quiet -- all the better for her to wrestle with the question she still couldn't answer for herself: Why hadn't she called Peter in the wilds? What was it that kept her from making reasonable decisions? And how could she avoid such foolishness in the future?

Peter was an ever-present force in her head, now, but he was letting her work this question out for herself. When she nudged a thought or perspective his way, he seemed to make only the mildest of judgments on it -- as if he knew something, but wanted her to work it out for herself. It was maddening.

When the shaking started, her heart leaped -- not out of fear, but out of a wholly irrational excitement. She knew Aidan wasn't in the next room, but for the first moment, she imagined...

And the second second, she was getting to her feet. Earthquake? It must be. Her duffel bag from her journey had been re-packed one night after she returned from finding Aidan. In it were supplies she'd found useful. Now, her thought was to add a few more pieces of clothing that would serve as makeshift bandages or just extra warmth for someone who needed it. She grabbed another pair of shoes - well-worn sandals - and threw them in before another hard shaking knocked her sprawling across her bed.

Without thinking about it, she knew that Peter was occupied at the hospital -- but wordless urging pushed her up again. He wanted her out, he wanted her safe. Evey wanted that too, and her mouth went twistingly wry as she lurched against the wall and used it for support. The front door was surprisingly far away. She'd made it to the couch just as a familiar person walked right through the wall beside her front door.

"What th--!" Another hard tremor sent her careening against the couch she'd just passed. This was ridiculous!

Murphy's morning kata was interrupted by a jarring change. Suddenly, instead of standing and going through the fluid movements of the exercise that was part dance part training for hand to hand combat, she was lying in bed in a cold room that wasn't the room she shared with Harry. There was a sense of familiarity about the room, but one gaping thing was missing. She sat up in the bed and looked around.

There was no sign of the wizard that she'd been sharing a space with, no sign that more than one person lived here.

She got up and out of bed and started to move through the room. Her things were here, all of them put away like they'd found a new home. She glared at the offending objects as though they'd somehow betrayed her in their comfort in this place.

Something cold rested against her bare skin under her shirt. Murphy looked down and her fingers traced the thin chain around her neck, pulling the pentacle out from beneath the fabric of her shirt. She stared at it. It was Harry's.

Or it had been Harry's. It was around her neck now.

"No," she whispered.

Then she turned and punched the wall, anger bubbling over.

"No," she said in a much louder, much angrier voice.

Hot tears stung at her eyes when she suddenly fell over and realized she was back in the living room of the apartment she shared with Harry.

It'd been three days since she last saw Aidan - not for lack of attempts on her part. She must either have the world's worst luck at being home at the same time Aidan was, or the damned blighter was purposefully avoiding her. It could have been either of those things. She'd admittedly been spending most of her waking hours outside - either searching for Carlos and Aidan in die Festung, or blurring her 'Chosen' status and blending with the rest of the people here so she could better understand the patterns and rhythms she'd have to duck at Belia's. But as far as she knew, it was Day Four since Aidan had anything to eat. They -- all of die Festung -- were nearly out of time.

Evey stepped back into the Chosen building about 30 minutes before sunset. It had been another full day of unremitting disappointment. The good news is that although she'd walked around the entire day full of caution and fear, she hadn't seen a single zombie, hadn't needed to run or hit anything. Maybe it was over. She blew on her hands, trying not to hope for something so wonderful as that, as she hurried down through the corridors toward room 104.

Her first note from three nights ago had been on the door when she came back the next night. And she'd added a second note two nights ago, when he didn't answer the door then, either. Both those notes were gone from the door now, and that gave her hope that perhaps, perhaps... She knocked vigorously. "Carlos!" she called at the flaking paint over the door. From somewhere else in the building, a door opened and closed, causing a shifting in the air here in the corridor. And a rustling. She looked to the sound -- squinted at the bits of paper whispering in the corner a handful of meters down at the end of the corridor. Surely those weren't...

She knocked again. "Carlos!" And waited again. And waited. And then stalked to the end of the corridor. But they were her notes after all.

Going where she was needed was still something Murphy was getting the hang of. Michael Carpenter had sworn up and down that it simply happened by coincidence sometimes. Murphy was starting to buy into the theory because she just happened to be walking by one of the buildings near the wall when she spotted a zombie horde spilling into the city.

Coincidence or not, she was quick to draw her sword and even quicker to start hacking away at the creatures. Later, she might question what was hidden in that building and how these creatures had gotten past the wall. Later, there would be many questions. She just needed to make sure that she was alive to get those answers.

Zombies weren't smart like vampires, which worked in her favor. Then again, they were more feral in some ways so each attack just drew more roars and caused them to press in on her more.

One thing was for sure though. She sure as hell wasn't letting these things bite her.

Something weird was going on, and Harry wanted nothing to do with it. Unfortunately, Harry was a wizard, and weird going-ons were his business. He had been enjoying Karrin moving in with him, but then there were people acting out of sorts, Belia was nowhere to be seen, and half the population had digressed to teenage rebellion.

"It's like that episode of Buffy," Harry explained to Mouse. He broke off a piece of the energy bar he was munching on and fed it to the Foo dog. "The one where all the adults started eating those candy bars, and thought they were teenagers again. Pure entertainment. And that's why we're eating Murph's boring energy bars instead of something delicious." He broke a second bar in half and shared it with Mouse. "Because no teenagers want to eat healthy. Except for the insane ones."

Ten minutes later, Harry was looking around in shock, edged in fear. He must have gone for a walk, and not been paying attention to where he was going. Nothing looked familiar. He glanced at the massive dog that seemed to be following him and gulped. "Justin is gonna be so pissed at me," he told the animal. "I'm gonna be late for my lessons."

(Takes place right after the library demon)

So, his brother wasn't dead.

That was probably the biggest factor in things right now in Thomas' mind. Harry was alive and most definitely not dead. And his brother was with Murphy. About fucking time.

Of course the second biggest factor was Thomas was stuck in some other world in the middle of an apocalypse...okay actually not all that different from living in Chicago right now...and no one knew if there was ever going to be any way back. Justine wasn't here. That was a fact that kept passing through his mind like a lyric from one of those songs you can't get out of your head. He wasn't going to bring her up though.

The city they took him back to had definitely seen better days but there were people here. Some of them were tired and desperate which called to the Hunger as he passed them but he was still able to ignore those demands for now. The control wouldn't last forever and Thomas would need to learn how to hunt in his new surroundings without causing a mob with pitchforks and torches to become his new best friend.

"I don't suppose the rustic world of the apocalypse has hot showers?" Thomas flopped into a chair once they reached his brother's apartment. He was ignoring the fact that Mouse was giving him that doggy look of surprise when Harry let them through his wards. Thomas was about at the end of being in a good mood for all the surprises, the crazy demon fight and having half of his hair caught on fire.

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.

Fred stared at the library as she stood before it. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want these people who were definitely doing the hero thing to be here. She didn't want any of this. The story she'd written down wasn't very good; she didn't really have much to hide. She'd never had much to hide.

The door was still slightly ajar from before; maybe it was a little wider; maybe it was wider. Her lips thinned as she imagined that more bodies were now piled up just inside. That they'd left the door open for more victims. Her arms tightened on the book she held close.

Maybe if she turned around, told them it was a joke, or said that she'd go in alone. Then, she knew it would never work. There were too many Champions along for the ride. None of them would just walk away, would they? She was going to get them killed, or worse. Fred was rather certain there was worse than death; actually, she'd seen worse than death.

"Libraries always cause trouble." She didn't really believe that, but she was getting a little tired of getting into fixes when she went into libraries, official libraries. Angel's didn't count, even if it did have some really interesting books, scrolls, and files.

Murphy knew Harry well enough to know when he was just putting up a
'grin and bear' it facade. Something was wrong. She knew that much.
And given where they were and all that had happened since their
arrival, she had a sinking feeling that it wouldn't be a small issue.
She held her peace until the meeting was over with. Once they had
wandered far enough away from the group, she took his hand and gave it
a little squeeze before looking up at him.

"Okay, out with it."

There was a stubborn set to her jaw and a look similar to what he
might see when she was interrogating a criminal. However, there was a
soft warmth in her eyes. Whatever it was, they would be in on it
together whether he liked it or not. Then again, she trusted that he
realized that by now, even as clueless as he could sometimes be.

( Why do we have all the luck? )

[takes place just after Harry's talk with 'Oliver', but before the meeting]

Harry couldn't help but still feel uncomfortable about the talk with Oliver Queen. All the way down the steps of the apartment building, he could still feel that nagging sense of suspicion. Something in Oliver's reactions had been off, something that just teased at Harry's brain but wouldn't make itself known. Every time he tried to push it away and turn his thoughts back to Peter, Oliver's face kept coming back to mind.

The crystal kept leaning, the direction a strong one. It didn't shift as he descended the stairs, so Peter must have been far enough away not to effect the crystal's direction by moving. Unless he wasn't moving. But Harry ad been using this kind of spell for a long time, and it didn't seem the case. Peter was alright, but a ways away. That was the sense he was getting from the pendulum, so he stopped back in his apartment first to prepare himself to leave the gates.

( Read more... )

Brothers Winchester'd banged on a few doors and let people know things were about to get interesting. Whether or not they were going to show, they'd have to wait and see, which was what he was doing.

There may have been chips, jerky, beer, and juice set out for whomever showed up. He might have grabbed one and started on it as he waited. Dean didn't like waiting; he'd do it when he had to, but he didn't like it. Unless it was the rare watching of a strip joint or woman's gym? Not that he got much chance for that sort of thing.

"This is a good idea," he mumbled to himself. It had to be.

Peter was dead. He'd made sure of it. He'd left the body there, brains open to the air with little pause to mourn the death of his old enemy. He might miss the challenge, and it was a shame to let all of those wonderful abilities go to waste but there had been no safe way to take them on. Not without potentially killing himself.

Sylar had done what needed to be done to ensure his survival. And he would continue to do so. There were others of interest. He wasn't sure if their brains would work the same, but he was eager to find out.

First, however, he needed a new face. Nathan Petrelli had been the perfect choice in fooling Peter. But now that Peter was gone, Nathan didn't mean a whole lot to anyone else.

The Justice League, particularly, was of interest. All of those abilities, for one. For another, if they found out about him they might be likely to try to stop him. Try being the operative word.

After asking around and spending quite a bit of time listening, Sylar had enough information to choose his new face. He chose the face of one who had been here and had disappeared. One who might just gain the trust of those whom he was most interested in. Oh, he was interested in the wizards as well but this face was just another temporary choice. Perhaps he could find out enough to dupe the wizards as well. Eventually, he would find a way to wipe out all of the chosen. And then there would simply be him. Chosen and special and alone, as it was always meant to be.

For now, Sylar had procured a key to Oliver Queen's quarters. He was headed there currently, ready to familiarize himself with the man whose shoes he would be filling for the forseeable future.

Molly. Everything that started to turn Molly into what she was today started with him, her teacher. That wasn’t sitting well with Harry. He’d apparently dragged them all to Chichén-Itzá to retrieve his uh…his..daughter the thought of that he would deal with later…from the Red Court vampires all of whom he apparently killed in the process. Those deaths had affected his apprentice. Molly was highly sensitive to magic and emotions. Being at ground zero for genocide broke her. It was all his fault. As usual.

Harry was going to have to square with that, and with Molly. Soon. He knew that. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to do that. Show him a seventy foot oogey boogey from the under belly of hell spitting luke warm acid phlegm and Harry would have a plan in under three seconds that would send the beasty back to hell with as minimal property damage as possible. Ask him to deal with the touchy feely emotional interpersonal crap and he was floundering. He also knew he had a tendency to avoid dealing with it. He knew that too. This was why he took long walks.
( Read more... )

One minute, she'd been with Harry in the City with its ever-shifting streets and now suddenly Murphy was back amidst the ruins of a city. Alone.

She sighed and double checked to make sure she at least still had her gun. Once that was confirmed, she started picking her way through the ruins in search of die Festung.

She might have let out a few choice words as she realized that she was completely turned around and it might take a bit to find her way in this world, but she fell silent when she got the creeping feeling on the back of her neck that she might not be alone out here.

Clark, Mouse and Bob had pretty much settled into a routine. Of course the routine involved feeding and walking Mouse, trying not to get drawn into weird discussions with Bob and laughing where the skull couldn't see when he'd whip himself into a frenzy of frustration for not being able to swear.

It wasn't much of a routine really and Clark was getting restless with all this sticking around this close to the city and waiting. Somehow packing up the skull and going on his normal trips seemed like a bad idea but so did leaving him alone in an apartment since that was how Constantine got him in the first place.

Today the routine was disrupted by Mouse clawing and barking at the door like a mad thing until Clark finally opened it. When he did the huge dog took off like a shot and didn't look back. "Okay, obviously a dog on a mission. Guess we can skip the walk this morning."

When one was a wizard stuck in a seemingly post-apocalyptic world even snuggling up to your best friend (now girlfriend) only helped a little bit. Finding out that your apprentice was messed up in the grey matter and it was because of you? Well, all the snugglin’ in the world by a cute, blonde cop barely took the edge off. Harry knew he was a bastard, but he hadn’t thought he was that big a bastard! He liked to think he wouldn’t put people into terrifying, soul damaging situations for any reason, but apparently rescuing his daughter from the big bad scary vampires which you in turn committed genocide upon, but he did. And Molly hadn’t been the same since.

He was going to have to confront Molly sooner or later. Harry knew that. He wasn’t a big fan of confrontations of the emotional kind, but he also wasn’t the kind to avoid taking responsibility either. He just wasn’t certain how he was going to get Molly alone, away from magnet man. He spent time thinking about it whenever he walked Mouse. He might be procrastinating a little bit, and calling it strategic mental counseling.
( Read more... )

Harry had found out from Carlos why Molly is the way she is. It wasn't pleasant knowledge because it was all his fault. That wasn't surprising. A lot of things were Harry's fault, but the guilt was pretty overwhelming. He had to do something about it. There was no doubt about that. He even had an idea of what, but it was drumming up the courage to face her again now that he knew what he did that Harry was stumbling over. He'd pretty much come home from talking to Carlos and curled up around Murphy (with their size difference that was almost literally) verbally puking everything he'd learned on her. Since then he'd been walking around lost in his thoughts and muttering to himself. Bob said this was no different than Harry's normal level of intellectual conversational skills.

As if all that and trying to figure out why they were here wasn't bad enough it had to go all Old Testament on them outside. Harry was in a basement apartment so he hadn't known what was going on until he'd taken Mouse out for a walk. Neither of them were thrilled with the rain of gross. It had been the fastest Mouse had ever seen to his business. There were more than a few natural cases of frogs, birds or even fish falling from the sky, but to have an entire tossed salad of creatures was indicative of something more.

He was lost in pondering that while Murph was out to check on the neighborhood. Some of those snakes and spiders were poisonous. They both wanted to make sure no one got bit and took it in turns to see if anyone needed help. A knock on his door made him frown in confusion. No one came here except for Carlos and that wasn't his knock. He gave Bob a warning glare then went to see who was there. Opening the door his brows bounced back up to find Baby Superman standing there. "Hi."