Reality Crisis

Buildings were missing, people were panicked and worse, people were now missing. Murphy rushed through the streets of die Festung with her sword strapped to her back. There were a few people that she needed to check on. People that she needed to touch and see and reassure herself that they hadn't left her. She could almost feel the weight of Harry's pentagram around her neck, could feel the loneliness that had engulfed her in that future glimpse. Could they really avoid that future? Or were some things just set in stone? She didn't much like the feeling of destiny, but couldn't shake the idea that no matter how hard you tried, sometimes you lost.

She stopped short just outside the building and stared up, reaching for her sword. The dragon on top fluttered his wings ever so slightly and then lazily rested his head on the roof, as though he'd taken up permanent residence there.

"And here I thought I'd seen every bizarre thing imaginable," she muttered.

Even in a place where so much of her everyday life had changed, Murphy still got up early for her morning workouts. She was glad that die Festung had a gym of sorts because she'd learned very quickly that Harry got a little cranky when woken up too early in the morning.

The day after Carlos's visit, she woke up and worked out just like usual. After that, she was starving so she headed to one of the restaurants in town in search of food. She didn't bother to change out of her workout attire so she was in sweatpants and a tank top. She'd mopped up some of the sweat and her blonde hair-now longer than she'd ever kept it-was tied back in a ponytail.

She was simply planning to stop in at the restaurant and get something to go. In spite of the fact that the people of die Festung were quick to offer things to the Chosen for free, Murphy didn't like accepting something for nothing so she brought a few trinkets to trade. Just a few things from the time spent outside the wall patrolling for anything that might threaten the town.

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.

There had been kids to get to safety and for a while Faith had done what she felt like she needed to do without thinking about it but slowly it was like all these other sensations had started sneaking up on her and knocking at her heart and mind until the normal Faith was overwhelmed and gone somewhere.

And then she realized she was running around barefoot in the rubble carrying a machete like she was some sort of action hero. Faith's hand trembled so hard she dropped the huge knife and she ran away ducking around obstacles and under things until she managed to cram herself into a small space between things and wrapped her arms around her legs hoping no one would find her.

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!

Chiseling stone was a difficult task with the best of tools. Leeloo had a blunt, flat-head screwdriver and a large rock. Plunked down against the side of a gutted grocery store with all its windows shattered, Leeloo carefully worked in the bleary afternoon sun, tongue stuck between her teeth in concentration. Her hands were dusty, dry, and cracking, but she didn't notice. She'd made a hole down the length of the brick she held -- perhaps halfway through it now. It was the labor of a full 8 hours of effort. Vaguely, she recognized that she was hungry, she was thirsty -- but her concentration couldn't be broken by these things.

As she tipped out the latest bit of stone crumbles and dust, the sky finally made good with its threat and opened up, throwing down massive amounts of rain. Dismayed, Leeloo tilted her head up into the storm and shouted something in the divine language. The sky was not impressed.

Huffing, she grabbed her tools and the object of her labor, then beat it for the nearest sound shelter -- an overhang in front of a place that served very greasy, very bland food. It even smelled greasy. Leeloo set herself down again on the cracked concrete and began chiseling again. Her stomach growled angrily and she scowled, placing the tip of the screw driver into the hole she made in the brick. A pair of toes appeared in her peripheral, and she paused to glance up. Squinted.

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.

[backdated, before Evey contacts Peter]

After the long talk with Evey, Peter was feeling much more focused and together. He wasn't hiding himself any longer, starting back on his old routine. He even felt brave enough to start visiting some of the natives, repairing buildings, cutting wood, and generally helping everyone make it through the cold season. Nearly every building was in some form of disrepair, so starting with the populated ones seemed the best way to go.

He was still hesitant to take from these people. Plenty offered him goods in return for his work. He only accepted things that could be spared. One benefit of this: he managed to put together a small, if eclectic, wardrobe for Leeloo.

He was heading to the gates for another bout of wood-chopping when he spotted Murphy. He hadn't seen her or Carlos or Harry since the... Since he helped Carlos. Only for the briefest moment when he returned Mouse to the tall wizard.

He didn't fade away. With a bit of a smile, he waved. "Hey, Murphy. How is everyone?"( Read more... )

(Takes place immediately after this thread)

Murphy liked Michonne, but she was still a bit leery of leading the woman with a grudge to Dean. It seemed like their talk had at least been able to help things a bit. All the same, the former policewoman and current Holy Knight wasn't going to leave those two alone. She had no problem sticking around as referee while Michonne said her peace and demanded her apology.

Luck was on her side, unless it was another case of divine timing though Murphy thought that something like this wasn't exactly in her job description. Dean was found at the first bar she tried. She glanced at Michonne and then nodded in the direction of the table where the hunter could be found, though she had a feeling that the other woman wouldn't have needed it pointed out.

She hung back and waited to see how Michonne wanted to handle this. She would shadow the woman and stick around until she was sure that there wouldn't be too much violence, but for now she was simply in chaperone mode.

Michonne was looking for Dean.

He had convinced her to execute her walkers. He had told her that they didn't exist on this world. He had told her that nobody would let her keep her rotting dogs. It had seemed, at first, that he had been telling the truth on that matter, and she had begun to let the loss go. Despite the fact that she didn't see them as human beings, she had gotten very used to having them around. And maybe somewhere, way back in the back of her mind, she had kept the knowledge of who they had once been, and had liked the fact that she still had them around in some way.

But then she had seen them. She had seen them within the gates of this new place she had been brought. Walkers. Just like the ones she had destroyed.

Her sword had made quick work of a couple, then she had left the rest to others. Her anger at Dean rose in her chest and the loss she had suffered was renewed.

"That motherfucker." She muttered as she walked through the streets of this strange place called die Festung. Somehow, she knew that it was German. It just sounded too German to be anything else. She didn't know the language really, but there was enough of it floating around in common American use that it was recognizable. Michonne had been wary of it at first, wondering how they could have all come together like they had, not sure why so many people would try to survive together. Eventually she recognized that it was unlike anything she had encountered before.

"Fucking tells me there ain't no fucking walkers here. Tells me to end mine. Gets me to do it, too. Brings me here to this place. What do I see? Fucking walkers. Fucking walkers. I am going to give that bastard a piece of my mind when I find him, and he'll be fucking lucky if that's all he gets. I might also give him a piece of my fist."

She didn't need them, Michonne was aware of this. She had a place to go, to keep her things. It was secure and other people actually lived there. She was still keeping all her stuff packed and those backpacks hidden under the bed. She didn't quite trust people.

Her sword was still always, always, on her back. She refused to not travel with it.

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.

Murphy carried her sword everywhere now, even though the burden of the title that she'd accepted weighed her down in some ways. The sword was necessary and as it was the only one of its kind in this world, she wasn't sure that there was anyone else to wield it. She still wasn't sure that she was the best person for the job and she still felt a little lost as to what her 'calling' was here.

She had a role to play and the sword had a role to play, she knew that much. But that didn't mean that she was certain of what those roles were.

Not that there had been much time to mull things over lately. When it wasn't library demons, it was mutants with far too much power, or spells that caused selective amnesia and brought new meaning to the term 'young at heart.'

It was even less often that they had something to celebrate. Murphy still wasn't sure that the cold front that had settled in over night was something to celebrate, but what did she know? She wandered through the streets, trying to find her bearings amidst the festivities. Whatever her feelings on the snow, it was nice to see children laughing and playing and it was nice to feel a lighter mood throughout the city.

(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.

There was a lot on Murphy's mind as she headed up to her place to stock up on weapons and armor. They might not be riding into battle right now, but it would be needed at some point. There was a part of her that thought all of this running back and forth between Harry's place and her own was silly. After all, she was at Harry's more than her own and yet most of her things remained at her place. All the same, they didn't need to rush things. Not when they were in a potential end-of-the-world scenario. Those scenarios sometimes had a way of making people suspend their best judgment. Then inevitably if the world didn't end, there was rethinking and a whole hell of a lot of heartache.

Murphy had had enough heartache to last a lifetime and she didn't need to potentially invite more by moving too fast, thank you.

By the time she was heading back to Harry's, her arms were filled with the armor that she still had after that sleeping beauty curse fiasco as well as a few guns and flash grenades that she'd managed to commandeer from Belia's supply. After all, the guards were mostly cooperative when it came to sharing supplies. She assumed that was because Belia realized that the chosen were their best chance of defense in many ways. As much as the woman might work against them, she still did try to work with them in ways as well.

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? )

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.

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.

[to be continued via comments]
[backdated to prior to Peter's talk with Harry]

It had been a fairly grueling day at the hospital. Peter hadn't realized how many people had been poisoned by the reptiles, needless to say how many had been concussed. He did what he could as a nurse, to ease their pains, and, then no one else was looking, would channel in a bit of healing energy. That was always a tricky power to use, as it drew energy from his own body to pass along. By the end of his shift, he was actually feeling tired enough to head to the apartment building where his room was. "801" the key said. Once he was comfortable to fly around here, that would be great. For now, however, he went into the lobby and looked around for the stairs.

( ---------- )