Reality Crisis

This was not Saltpans.

Arya had never been to Saltpans before, but from all that she'd heard of it--a small harbor village, just like any other harbor village in Westeros--she knew what to expect. Wide roads filled with carts and people, alehouses and inns, and the smell of salt on the air. What she'd expected to do was to ride in on her mare, Craven, sell the horse, and buy passage somewhere else.

There was no salt air. No Craven, either. Arya had been dozing on the mare's back, had the feeling of falling and woke trying to catch herself, and found herself here, wherever this was. It looked nothing like the lands she had been riding through. And the buildings looked strange. She was immediately on her guard, trying to move quick as a deer and silent as a shadow.

It didn't work, though. A man saw her. "What are you doing out here?" he asked. She tried to back away, and to duck past him when he grabbed for her, but he was quick and she was disoriented. "What's your name? Are you new?"

She didn't answer, resolutely sticking her jaw out and trying to pull away as he tugged her along. She couldn't help but gape at the sights around her as he walked her through. It was big, like King's Landing had been, but completely different than anything she'd ever seen before.

He pulled her into one of the buildings, though she tried to squirm away one more time. "Got another one for you," he called.

The shaking had woken him.

At first it had been light, and he'd thought that Kitty was playing around, trying to get him up. He'd smiled in his half sleep and murmured something about ten more minutes. He was waiting for her to get close enough so that he could pull her down into the bed with him, and make her lay there while he napped for a tiny bit longer.

It had gotten more violent after that, beyond anything that he could put off as the urgings of a girl Kitty's size to leave a bed. He'd gotten to his feet as fast as he could, the steel automatically shifting over him, and he'd gone to the window. There was nothing that he could see that would be causing it. No outside source, anyway. It was an earthquake. Or maybe a series of them. He couldn't say for sure. He'd feared that it was an attack of some kind. Not that natural disaster was really better, it was just ... better.

"Katya?" Piotr turned and called. She had to be in the apartment, but she wasn't in the bed. "Katya? We must help."

Between the two of them, Piotr knew there was a lot they could do to help. He could shield people and hold up structures. He could carry people to safety. She could assure that nobody was crushed, go into places to rescue the trapped. They were both particularly suited for this incident.

He moved out of the bedroom. "Katya?"

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!

"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.

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.

Dinah kept waiting to wake up from this bizarre dream. She was supposed to be 13, but somehow she looked much older and was in the middle of this bizarre alternate reality life that just... well, it was a little depressing.

All the same, she was determined to just go with it. She didn't have much in the way of fun clothing, which was a shame. She looked... good. Better than she'd ever hoped to look. She had memories of wearing her mom's fishnets in the future and if she could have found them, she'd wear them.

Instead, she was wearing jeans and a tank top and she hit the town-what there was of it. There had to be something to do here. Somewhere to shop, somewhere to eat, maybe get a movie. There had to be something.

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.

His adopted face of Oliver Queen had resulted in a gift for Sylar. Even if the Bat didn't seem to trust him, the Canary had given him names of mutants. Mutants were the most likely to work like those from his world, which meant that their powers could be taken. While Sylar wanted Dinah's scream if only because Peter must have been granted it just by coming into contact with her, he wanted other powers that Peter might not have. More than that, he suspected that it might be worth his while to see if he could get more information out of the bird if he could get her alone.

For now, he spent his time tracking down the two names that had piqued his interest the most. Kitty Pryde and Piotr Rasputin. She might not have given their full names, but she had given enough information that anyone who knew his comics could put the pieces together.

He managed to do quite a bit of intel-gathering in a short period of time. After that, it was simply a matter of waiting to catch Ms. Pryde on her own. He had decided that it would be best to go after the young woman who could walk through walls first. And he had also decided that Oliver Queen's face would be of no help to him. It was better to choose a face that she knew and trusted.

A face that she loved. That was key. Once she was on her own somewhere that he was sure was secluded enough that no one would hear her screams (if there were any), Sylar took on the face of the man who was clearly her boyfriend before approaching her.

"I said 'find Piotr' not 'fly off like a bat out of hell.'" Kitty mumbled softly, careful to stay aware. She'd been caught in nasty spots more often than not here, and she wasn't looking forward to more, even if she knew there would be more. There were always more nasty spots. She had wanted to surprise her Russian, or at least find out where he was going. She knew what the place was, but she wanted to see it for herself. It sounded like Genosha, but not?

"I'm going to tan your scaly butt when I get hold of you." She wouldn't. She knew it, and if the owner of the scaly butt in question heard her, he'd know it, too. She could be angry with the dragon, but she couldn't stay angry for long. They were connected in a way she couldn't explain, and thankfully, Piotr didn't push the subject. He'd accepted it; Pete, on the other hand, had always found it odd. Perhaps any other man in her life would find her connection to the dragon, the alien known by many as Lockheed..perhaps they'd find it strange, but for her, it simply was. She didn't see a time when it wouldn't, not without death or destruction, and they'd both seen a good bit of that and lived through it.

"Where are you?" She hissed.

Lockheed knew he was being "hunted," and he didn't mind it. A little adventure did a Kitty good. He'd show her to Piotr eventually, but for now, a little tracking by the "cat" wouldn't be a bad thing. He hoped. He'd save her; he'd always save her.

A dragon and a mutant went out into a field. It wasn't that either of them needed the exercise, so much as Kitty really needed to think about something she'd found recently. Lockheed had come along because he was one of the best ways to keep her connected to a certain large Russian who had a penchant for turning into metal, or being covered by metal. She knew Piotr wanted to help, but she wasn't sure anyone could really help her with anything.

"Is it some kind of joke? You get leashes, which by the way, we are putting that on Piotr. I like the wings." She was a little naughty at times. "So, joke, right?" Lockheed shrugged; he wasn't going to admit that he didn't mind having leashes for his humans. It would make sure they stayed close. A dragon could get tired, flitting hither and yon.

"A space suit? A space suit?" Lockheed landed on her shoulder and nuzzled in her hair. He still didn't talk much around her. Really, there wasn't much need. "Megan had said I was stuck in one. I couldn't become solid. What if that happens here? What if I'm stuck in a suit? What if I get caught in a deadzone, and I phase and can't get back?" Kitty was more than a little worried that her natural state was actually more the wisp of a woman than the more solid form.

"I can't." So, this was why she was walking. She needed to talk out problems. Unfortunately, there were things in this world that really didn't give a rat's rear about people's personal problems. All said things wanted to do was eat.

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.

There was the sense of falling, but not of movement. Her stomach dropped to her feet and she stumbled -- but nothing moved. Rather, the entire world faded: first, Inspector Finch, then the sound of the fireworks and explosions at Parliament, then the grimy balcony where she stood, then the overcast night sky.

Darkness. Darkness.

"Hello?" Evey called, and her voice echoed as if she were in some great cavernous void. She could not feel the ground under her feet.

A moment more of that wretched, empty silence -- the sound of wings or rushing water or a speeding train passing by -- and then she really was falling. The sound disappeared altogether and she had her first glimpse of a new set of constellations, the quiet hum of nighttime crickets, the brightness of the moon, before she landed, shoulder-first, on broken pavement in a city she didn't know.

Evey Hammond lay, gasping (or trying to), on a side street in die Festung.

Get up, Evey. Get up!

Still struggling with her lungs, she rolled to her side, eyes popping with the crushing sensation, then managed to get onto her hands and knees. And then to her knees. And then slowly, rolling onto the balls of her feet, she stood, hand reaching blindly for the first thing she could use to catch and lean against. Every instinct told her to hide.

It finally happened. All those warnings about the City and its shifting streets, and her worrying about not teleporting too far now that everything was back to its normal moving way of things, and Megan finally 'ported somewhere completely unfamiliar.

From the trees, she would have said she was in the park, except she'd been all around the park and it had never looked quite as wild as this. Even in the rougher parts of the park, it still looked somewhat... parklike. This was all forest, like nobody had ever even touched it before. She flew up, hoping she'd be able to get a sense of where she was.

She fought through the branches, messing up her hair and scratching her face and arms as she fought through the branches, but she got through just enough to get a peek. Nowhere familiar, except she thought she saw something in one direction. She flew down and rested against a tree trunk, tired from fighting for the view. She could try to 'port somewhere familiar, she supposed, to her flat or Rufio's fort or Fixit, but if she'd gotten this lost just trying to go shopping...

( A noise made her jump. )

Kitty was nervous. She'd been out helping clean up, and she'd come back to a note. The Russian had gone off and would be back. Wasn't this how their troubles started? He'd go off and then not come back? So, as it grew closer and closer to nightfall, she finally gave in and sent Lockheed out looking for the Russian.

The Fortress's remaining X-man decided to take up guard duty. She didn't get too much of a reaction from her request other than a look. Kitty didn't look like she could do much sometimes, but the girl had been trained by some of the deadliest warriors of her world. She was not one to mess with, or that's what she told herself as she took up a spot not far from the gate. She remembered that she'd met him near the forested area, and that was where she stood to watch. Plus, Lockheed seemed to think the man of living steel was that way.

She had been able to scrounge up a couple blades and a handgun. She opted for leaving the cloak back in the apartment. Today she went for borrowed camo and weapons. It would do, even if it wasn't her usual fighting uniform.

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.

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 verbal confrontation with Molly and Magneto, Murphy had done what she could to comfort Harry. But the wizard was in a foul mood. Understandably so, but all the same she had taken her chance to excuse herself. There was only so much cranky wizard that a girl could take.

She was sick of staying inside the city and she had a very strong feeling that she was needed outside. She couldn't explain it beyond that, and perhaps it was simply her imagination. Michael had never fully elaborated on how it was that he was able to know where he was needed. He had said that sometimes it was just arranged coincidence that took him to where he was needed and sometimes he 'just knew.' Which was maddeningly vague.

All the same, she had the feeling and was going to follow it. She had decided to walk and skirted around the forest. She wouldn't tangle with fairies unless she had to. She knew that the sword could cut through most enchantments, but that didn't mean that she had much desire to go in there and potentially piss off any fairies.

She didn't know what she was looking for so she simply walked. She assumed she would get there eventually.

She hoped.

Being a wizard and not an apprentice didn’t mean that a person stopped practicing their magic. In fact, Carlos found that daily practice pushed him to be better. He didn’t have the patience for meditation and he could only take so much studying. He was more of a hands-on type of guy.

This morning, he’d found an out of the way courtyard in between some of the buildings of die Festung. Green magic flowed around his hands, resembling liquid as he manipulated it. It moved slowly but decisively, flowing around his hands in a figure eight. The green light fell on his features, which were perfectly relaxed as he manipulated the energy.

( Abracadabra! )