monoculi | 001. not in kansas, toto [action/voice]

001. not in kansas, toto [action/voice]

[Xander has woken up in some pretty weird places in his time. It's an occupational hazard of fighting the forces of evil and usually getting knocked unconscious as a result. However, this - Luceti, that is - has certainly raised the bar of weirdness.

Cold, hard, earth underneath his bare (and oddly uncomfortable) back, greenery and trees all around, and some frankly bizarre white pants on his lower half. Blinking, groaning and fumbling to feel for his eyepatch (on his face, mercifully) he sits up.]

What the...? [he mutters, looking around incredulously - at that moment noticing his clothes piled neatly beside him, along with the rather incongruous looking journal. He stares, then sighs, reaching for his clothes - this is all probably Andrew's moronic doing, his idea of a hilarious prank - after all, if it was a demon thing, he'd probably be dead or eaten by now. Or possibly disembowelled.

He moves to pull his sweater over his head, but encounters difficulty at his shoulder blades - an odd obstruction, something there where there should be nothing. After a couple of frustrated tugs, he reaches back to find out what the problem is, and oh - feathers. Attached to... wings. Well, that's a game-changer.

Now fully miffed (and feeling a lot less relaxed about this whole experience) he abandons the sweater and reaches for the book instead, stifling the urge to panic. There were bound to be clues in here, right? He arrives at the first page and eyes it with suspicion - some kind of communication device? After a moment of ginger examination, he hesitantly selects the 'voice' function, muttering to himself:]

Yay, a mysterious book. Because that always ends so spectacularly well.

[and now raising his voice substantially:]

Okay, listen up, Andrew - whatever kind of hilarious joke you're playing, it's very much not hilarious. And if you don't get out here within the next two seconds and undo whatever funky mojo you did to my back, I will personally locate and destroy your vintage 1989 Sega Mega Drive console. Mint condition and boxed, third drawer from the left, don't think I won't do it!

Threaded | Flat

[ Twilight's just taken off when through the trees she spots Xander dusting himself off and getting to his feet. The device he's shouting into, she recognizes. But Xander himself...

I mean, what in the name of Celestia IS this creature?

Standing on two legs, fur color somewhere evenly between Applejack and Pinkie Pie, fingers for gripping like Spike's...

Better observe it from a distance. She tries to approach quietly, maybe watch him from a cloud. But the closest thing around is a tree, and hooves and loose branches do not make for stealthy watching. ]

[ a mug of hot chocolate is kinda like a post-patrol reward. a gustatory pat on the back for a path well beaten and a night well prowled. only not much goes bump in this night unless it's experiment-season. so buffy consoles herself with a few extra marshmallows. and she leans against the kitchen counter with her own journal propped lazily open to its centre. a good book browse soothes the soul and feeds the inner gossip, after all.

but it's the familiar voice that grabs her. grabs her and shakes her and gives her a wiggins in only the most pleasant of ways. her half-finished beverage is abandoned as she grips the book with both hands and stands up straight. in the middle of the kitchen. in her pjs. ]

Holy crap. Xander. It's -- [ xander. her heart skips about three beats and needs a decent-sized sigh just to be encouraged to follow through on the fourth. how long has it been since she last saw xander...? ]

Sorry. No Andrew in sight. Not anymore. You'll have to settle for little old me.

[ two years. she hasn't seen him in two years. that's how long. ]

Edited 2013-03-07 23:43 (UTC)

[This voice sounds suspiciously familiar. But Jack Sparrow fixates on one thing and one thing alone:]

Andrew's back?

[What, New Feather season already? Where does the time go?]

Sorry, Toto, you're not in Kansas anymore.

[Well. Somebody had to say it. And Rogue likes to start these 'sorry, you're stuck in an inter-dimensional purgatory run by mad scientists' conversations on a high note, with tact and sensitivity and... okay, so she's barely glancing at the journal.]

[Max has not felt this ridiculously bad at magic since he was a kid and his grandmother had tried to teach him some simple Selkie water spell, only to discover that he had no talent at it whatsoever.

Two days with the book of magic from Helios's world and he's managed... a fireball. A little purple globe of fire and warmth which while pretty, is not exactly going to be keeping crazed axe murderers or monsters off his back.

Elemental magic, he decides, sucks.

So it's not surprising when he lets himself be distracted by the sound of a voice from not that far away. He crushes the fireball, and heads that way curiously, a shield held on his tongue and ready to call if it turns out to be hostile.

There's a guy there, someone wearing the same kind of clothing as Max had woken up in. After a moment, he steps out from the trees, giving him a slightly concerned look.]

You really want to be careful with the wings. They're pretty uh, sensitive.

Mega Drive? Sheesh, you go way back. [After all, consoles age and become ancient, while arcades are timeless.] Just don't go smashing it or anything. Do you know how many lives you could end?

Edited 2013-03-08 00:44 (UTC)

[She hears his voice before seeing him. Words that mean absolutely nothing to her. As strange and foreign as Luceti had once been a year ago. Funky mojo. Sega Mega Drive. Mint condition. Perhaps it's rude to listen in on the strange conversation, but it's not as if she's ever cared about being polite.

She quietly takes a few steps closer, following the sound with her bow at the ready. A skinned squirrel hangs from her belt, dressing knife tucked in between the cloth and leather, A quiver rests between her black and white wings, over a brown leather jacket a few sizes too big for her. She barely makes a sound as she walks, only stopping when the man comes in view.

A new arrival. It explains the strange words at the very least. Rather than approaching, Katniss keeps watching him. Curious yet wary.]

I'm afraid this isn't some sort of magical prank.

[Because Stars only know that Luke had thought the same thing at first.]

But the journal won't hurt you.

Welcome to Luceti. You're not on earth.

And chances are, your buddy isn't here.

The book's a communication device.

Oh, and don't try taking the wings off; it'll kill you if you do.

[Well, as nice as the Battle Dome is for practicing her reflexes, it's just no good for flying, and flying is something she's gotten kind of fond of.

Unfortunately, it seems like every time she goes out flying, she runs into a confused, irritated new arrival.

This one had his own clothing with him, too. Ugh. Lucky jerk.

Perching on a branch above his head, she thought-speaks at him:]

-Sorry, your geek friend didn't do this. And your life just got a lot weirder.-

[... Seriously, who owns a game console that's ten years old? Especially if they don't even play it? Nerds are weird.]

What's a vintage 1989 Sega Mega Drive console?

[Yep. That's what she's curious about]

[Oh boy. Another human, with their smarmy pop culture references and their delicate sensibilities about good and evil. Whee.

Oh well. He needs a break. Might as well mess with someone.]

Good job on opening the book, dear boy. Now you'll never escape.

Edited 2013-03-10 16:50 (UTC)

[Holy crap it's Xander. Be still his heart.

Thankfully Buffy pounced pretty quick. That simplifies things, at least- less explaining on the public's part.]

Oh man, never threaten the consoles. That could get you mauled.

Threaded | Flat

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