Jordan College

((adult content throughout.))

After a bit of wandering through the city and with some additional help from locals, Katsumoto and Tony had finally located a clothier shop and procured more suitable attire for the former chef, courtesy of Jordan College funds. It was clothing that wouldn't have looked out of place in the era Katsumoto came from, but he knew from Tony's reaction, even before he said anything, that it must have been an archaic style of dressing for someone from the year 2008.

From there, Katsumoto suggested they continue their excursion and head for this world's equivalent of the ( Covered Market... )

The TARDIS was silent, cold. Like death in the arctic, and he sat on the floor grating where he'd fallen and stared at her. The usual low thrum of machinery and life was absent, and he felt a sort of vague desperation building as he felt under his hands the still cold metal. No signs of life, no movement whatsoever except his own slow breathing and the too-quick beating of his hearts.

( This time he'd really done it... )

Balthier had had enough of ex-Dalmascan soldiers who really ought to be dead but were some how up and walking and having little lovers' tiffs all over the place. It was time for ale, wenches and cheesy biscuits- standard fare for any pirate. The only pub he knew of nearby was the ignominiously named Red Lobster.

He was alone when he started to head off campus, but who knows how many had followed him?

((Open RP in the pub! Anyone is welcome!))

The first thing he noticed was the pounding in his skull, it centred on a point on the back of his head just above his neck and it throbbed with every beat of his heart.
( cont. )

It was cold. It was not the discomforting chill that could be driven away by pulling the covers tighter. No, Allen recognized it as the dangerous kind of drop in temperature that made it hazardous to fall asleep in. He didn't bother with what he'd just been doing before now, he was too busy scrambling to his feet. He risked opening his eyes and stared at the snow that crunched under his boots, as he stumbled forward a few steps.

His mind raced, his thoughts of the Akuma that had been about to strike him. A level four, and the soul... He felt his stomach churn as grief threatened to overwhelm him. Or rather it would have if something didn't butt into his side. "Its not your fault, you can't be everywhere at once." He blinked at the soft female voice and looked over before he froze. "W-who are you?" Last he checked, tigers didn't talk.

Then again he'd seen a lot of weird things in his lifetime. It was a wonder he hadn't become as jaded as his master. "Artemidoris, I am your Daemon." The tiger breathed as she pressed into his side and he nearly stumbled again. "We need to find shelter, or we'll freeze." She had a point he couldn't deny, and he never was one for dwelling on things he couldn't change.

He'd find a way back, but for now... "Where are we?" He whispered quietly, one hand resting on the strange new companion that felt like he'd known her forever. "I don't know, but we'll find out. We have too."

"These will be your quarters, sir." The porter said, choosing a key from an enormous ring and pressing it into Tony's palm.

"Thanks." Tony said, sticking the key into his pocket.

"Will you be needing anything further?"

"I... guess not." He said. "Uh, thanks."

The porter said nothing, only turned on his heel and walked away.

"Nice guy." Tony muttered, pushing open the door to his new digs. It was small, like a dorm and if it was a dorm, it was thankfully a single. Tony flopped himself down on the bed, the springs squesked and it was definitely too short, but it was comfortable enough. He sighed.

As much as he disliked the outdoors, Near knew it was best to give L some time alone with Edward occasionally, even if he didn't really know what they were doing, just that Edward seemed to grow antsier the longer he went without time alone with L.

So, Near relocated himself to the lawn outside the dorm, along with Tillie and a deck of cards. Tillie, who was currently in lemur form, was assisting in the futile effort of keeping a house of cards upright when the wind was blowing.

At first Bruno thought someone had pushed him into the MacDonald Hall swimming pool again. He rose quickly to the surface and pushed his head above the water, sputtering. "Cathy!" he shouted. No answer. "Boots?" he tried. Sighed. "...Sydney?"

Something wet and alive flickered between his shirt and his collarbone. Bruno yelped, and swatted at it.

"Hey!" whatever-it-was said clearly in a burbling wet voice. "Careful what you smush, there!"

Bruno breathed in, deeply, then out again. He stuck his hand down his shirt and pulled out a bright, indignant clownfish. "You could get one of us hurt, thrashing around like that," it said.

"I'm Karl," it added. Bruno stuck out his index finger and shook its fin.

"Bruno Walton. Pleased to meet you."

They weren't in the MacDonald Hall swimming pool at all, but in a warm brackish river edged by old stone buildings. "Keep up!" Bruno said, and setting Karl gently back in the water, swam for the shore.

House lounged back in the clinic office with his feet on the desk, tapping his cane irritably. His supply of Vicodin was growing dangerously thin, and he had already tried to sneak back into the hospital through the storage shed, hoping his watch kept the time as it ran in his world. He had found, however, that he could no longer leave Luciana behind; any attempt to do such resulted in such wrenching pain even his leg could not defer it, and he felt as though his heart was shattering. It was unthinkable; the idea had deeply rooted itself in his instincts that leaving Luciana even for a second was a torture he could not endure.

He scratched the top of her shaggy head as he thought. He couldn't go back himself now, not without having to explain himself. Princeton-Plainsboro had security cameras everywhere, and while the hospital was used to his eccentric behavior, bringing in a hyena might get his ass jumped, no matter how 'tame' she seemed.

Luciana bristled at the thought, and he patted her head reassuringly. Nobody tamed them.

He wasn't ready to tell Cuddy where he had been yet, or why he would forever after have a hyena following him around the hospital. He planned to put that off as long as possible. This was a boon of a safehaven for him. And, for the first time in his life, in finding Luciana, he did not feel cripplingly alone. He could not lose that. He *would not* lose that.

He knew some of the people--such as they were people--who had shown up did not have Daemons, but those who did were usually so outlandish they would draw just as much attention. The lanky, obnoxious skeleton who had tried to make friends came to mind. But he did know some people had daemons small enough to hide under clothing...

He sat back, still tapping his cane, bored out of his mind. He hoped none of those idiots out on the dragon hunt came back expecting him to sew them back together.
 

Tony had seen a lot of things in his travels, but he'd never seen anything like this before. Some of the architecture looked familiar, like this was a version of Cambridge that could have happened if history had taken a slightly different turn.

Obviously he should have listened to his instincts and not watched The Butterfly Effect.

A tall, whip thin young man in a waist coat paused and looked his way. He was followed by an exquisitely groomed Russian Wolf Hound. He eyed Balthier with a certain degree of dislike before addressing Tony.

"May I help you?" He asked rather coldly.

Tony smiled, this, at least, was familiar. "You could get me something to eat, garçon."

The first thing he notices, opening his eyes, is that it is cold. It is also daylight, which makes him frown - he's fairly sure there isn't any day in Hell. Which is almost certainly where he should be, all things considered. He sits up slowly, feeling stiff and unsteady, and rubs his eyes, flexing his wings.

His wings. Startled, he turns, spreading them out to full span, and stares. Whole. Unmarred. It's impossible.

Lucivar checks the rest of his body, taking quick inventory. There are new scars, certainly, but no open wounds, no horrible gashes, no remnants of the pain he's quite sure he remembers accurately. He glances uncertainly at his hands, wondering how one knows if one is demon-dead, if there would be some difference.

But of course, none of that matters. He can't feel any Blood magic within miles, which means that Jaenelle isn't here. And wouldn't be, because Jaenelle is dead. Damn him, there's nothing left.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself."

Lucivar turns and stares at the wolf as she uncurls and yawns widely, her russet grey coat thick and sleek. "Who are you?" he asks, feeling too detached to marvel at this new wonder.

She gives him an odd look and pads over, leaning into his leg. It should be strange, but he automatically reaches down to touch the thick fur around her ruff, a strangely comforting gesture. "Semele. I'm your daemon."

A blink. "Daemon..." his first thought is of his brother, but then a couple pieces fall into place and he recognizes her. After all, she's always been there. "Oh. Right." He pauses, feeling stupid for asking. "Am I dead?" he asks her, softly.

She shivers and presses closer to him. "No. I wouldn't be here if you were dead. Though you did your damnedest to kill us both." She noses his hand. "Did you hear me? Stop feeling sorry for yourself. I'm surprised at you. You're somewhere unfamiliar. Where is it?"

Lucivar looks around, his eyes sharpening. "I don't know..."

"Well, find out," she says tersely. "Perhaps there's someone you can ask."

Roxas didn't remember how he got to be lying on the green lawn of Jordan College- he remembered Twilight Town and everything before that but nothing after. If it the sun hadn't been so high in the sky when he came to, he might have mistaken Jordan for Twilight Town at first.

Roxas sat up slowly, pressing one hand to his forehead in frustration. "Where is-"

He stopped midsentence when something nudged his foot. Roxas looked up and blinked in surprise at the spotted cat nudging his foot. "Finally," it said, "You're up. I'm Lysander, your daemon."

"My what?"

"Daemon. Soul. Heart."

"My- wait, I don't have- that's not possible, I can't-"

Lysander blinked up at Roxas. "Well, it obviously it is possible, because here I am," he shot back, "Now let's hurry and go find out where we are."

Jon sighed heavily as he looked out at the ragtag bunch that had gathered in the center of the outpost at dawn. He cleared his throat and then said loudly, "We're going to head toward the north forest where the dragon was spotted. You must stay with the group at all costs- we don't want any accidents. When we find the dragon, I don't want anyone attacking it right off, because-," and Jon sighed again at this, "-It might be friendly."

Wordlessly, Jon wheeled his horse around to the north and beckoned for the group to follow.

((Dragon hunt time! Draco, you can show up at any point you want to. Of course players can get split up from the group. Feel free to thread with each other, jump into each others threads or move the plot along how you see fit! I'll be in IRC if anyone needs Jon for something.))

[This is set after the party, so at some point in time Oriya will have excused himself and fled. But only because the clothes are bugging him. ♥]

He was going to go mad, how did westerners stand it? These clothes were chafing. They clung, making movement difficult and near impossible and for the life of him he could not fathom how they had anything near his size. But that was beyond the point. He was past tolerating the clothing, so after excusing himself from Kaylee, Oriya made a hasty retreat for the exit with Apollon just seconds behind him.

And the damned creature was far too amused. Too bad there was no way to share some of the agony with the infuriating kitten. Oriya was truly wishing he had the freedom to burn the clothes.

Tiger Lily pushed back her fur-lined hood as she stepped towards the barrier between Neverland and one of the many other worlds that bordered it.  The weather looked more pleasant on the other side, in spite of the snow that was drifting around her ankles, it had been a brilliant sunny day only yesterday and she was certain that this snow would be melted by tomorrow.  

She reached out and touched the gateway and it shimmered a bit under her fingers.  Solid enough.  She took a deep breath and stepped through.  

It was, indeed, warmer on the other side.  Tiger Lily stripped off her heavy coat and luxuriated in the sun for a moment.  Snow melted from her boots and her hair leaving a wet spot on the ground around her.  

"It's certainly a good thing that I don't mind water, my dear."  

"Hum?"  Tiger Lily was taken a bit off guard.  "Who is there?"   

"Surely you recognize me."  A large tiger lay sunning itself only a step or two ahead of where she stood.  "You've known me your whole life."  

"Of course," she said, recognizing her guide almost immediately.  "Tiriaq.  But how it is that you are here?"  

The tiger approximated a shrug and yawned hugely.  "I couldn't say, child, but here I am.  And since you mention it, where is here, anyway?"  

"I do not know."  Her fingers twitched towards her knife as she scanned the area.