Where Does the Time Go? (IC)

[lostsole31]

"Because we are who we are," says the Crane-doppelganger ...

Spoiler

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or, is this the Crane and Cloak is the doppelganger? ("Metaphysics gives me a headache." - Nick Danger)

... "NSA Special Branch charter would merely call in FBI for crime scene. If you still had your badge as an HSR agent - seeing as this is supercrime - it would've been easier. The rest of us will be 'in pursuit' of the fugitive. Our car only swerved and lightly hit the tree, so we have transit out of here. Here is my card."

Mr. Ourobouros, anything to ask? Do you take/ look at the card?

Cloak, you never had a means of contacting .... but you DID chat with the two and some old nutter in an abandoned industrial complex. Failing all other means of communication, that might be the key.

[BuckGodot]

I will try to head that way.

[lostsole31]

You don't know New Jersey very well, so you have to go higher for better visual acuity. As you fly, you realize that while it doesn't take any physical effort to maintain your Fade to Black, when your mind wanders it tends to fade. This tells you that it's not a power that could allow you to sleep unseen or anything, but without solid mental focus will drop in time.

Once you're in the air, that's when you realize ....

One of the problems with having a knowledge base but few "memories" is that you don't really have a clue about geography. Sure, there is this vague sense of the country's shape and North America .... and a not-quite-accurate sense of the states.

But you are really at a disadvantage now that you're out of Hudson City ... which you were just barely getting a feel for at that.

You had heard a competitor talk-radio host joke how bad U.S. education was and how a lot of "dumb kids" can't tell Maine from Missippi. You account yourself quite intelligent when seen in light of peers, but this can very nearly break a man's confidence.

"Man," .... speaking of which. This line of thought really makes you begin to wonder. Those crazy super-agents knew who you were .... well, "what" you were. You don't even know that. Why is there a doppelganger of you that is trying to capture you? Why are you called an aberration? Who or what are you? Even as you were flying away, the lead agent said that Mr. Crane was not your real name.

The enemy has answers you don't have yourself. But wounded, and not knowing the condition of Springbok or Whisper doesn't help. If you're not Donovan Crane, the name of a possible alias you had found, than what the hell? The picture of a woman you might have loved, a name ... little things that trigger absolutely no memory whatsoever that you've taken totally on trust.

As your mind runs around as frantically as you do in flying to get your bearings, you notice that the place where your greatest injury is has the faintest wisps of darkness trailing out .... almost like blood. You also feel something. It's faint, but it's almost like there is something under the not-really-skin where the wound is. Small ...

.... and it feels like it's trying to get out.

[BuckGodot]

Hmmmm. Best find a securish spot and investigate. If I can spot a cave, barn, abandoned house or a college dorm room, I'll land and see if I can patch the wound....Dropping Fade to Black, only once I find myself in a safe spot.

[lostsole31]

You'll be able to find a barn. It's not "abandoned" but it is so late in the morning and far enough from the house it should be fine. A few cows, that's all.

So .... patch the wound, huh? In what form are we talking? Invariably morbid curiosity has you touching the wound unconsciously like a bruise. The thing is, something tiny pokes back. This is in Cloak form, mind you.

And then?
.............................................

Mr. O?

[srgonzo]

Inspect the ID card.

[BuckGodot]

I'm concerned as to what might happen if I drop the Cloak form, being this badly wounded.

Am I able to grasp whatever is poking me?

[lostsole31]

Mr. Ourobouros ....

Guess the name on the card ....

.........................................

Cloak, you do try to grab whatever it is. Something is squirming in your hands, with the strange mixing of your hand to this part of your body as you try to grab it. Do you pull it "out" of you?

[BuckGodot]

Seriously?! What the hell would you do if something were squirming around your hand and coming out of your body. Hell yeah I try to pull it out. It's freakin me out!!

[srgonzo]

Donovan Crane?
Ok, let me see if I can parse this out. Chaos can't create, but it does retain the basic essence of Creation. Order, on the other hand, can't actually destroy because it has to adhere to the rules it creates. A certain end of Chaos tends toward Entropy, which is genuinely disturbing because nobody ever talks about the white fountain end of that equation, which is constantly spitting out life energy. Effectively, if there actually were a sentient personification of everything that Chaos would embody, it would resent the fact that it is framed by Order. Cloak is actually a prison for a sentient polyp of Chaos, isn't he? If you wanted to kill him, he wouldn't have been transported anywhere. You'd have been able to find an interpretation of some rule which would have allowed him to be killed. You just want to contain him, don't you? Due to the complexity of a sentient biological structure, Order's rules would require a "human" for Chaos's box, but the human in question couldn't possibly know he was a housing for Chaos and given the raw power, cthonic energy would leak into every cell in that person's body, giving the individual powers. Of course, the more he leaks, the more Cthon seeps into the individual's consciousness, making the vessel less of a housing for Chaos and more of an agent of Chaos. Naturally, you can't eliminate that energy, but you can transfer it into another vessel because this vessel is probably going to break soon. So, do you have another vessel in mind? Maybe you can get a volunteer?

[lostsole31]

Mr. Ourobouros .... you see "Agent Smith/ SAIC/ NSA Special Branch" on his card (see OOC).

After your interesting diatribe. "Oh, but we can eliminate that energy. No vessel can hold pure Chaos in it, because to do so would be to define Order. He's wounded. And every leak of him ... like blood ... into this world is possible birth to a horror your mortal mind cannot understand. And, I believe the word you seek is qliphothic."

They get into the car. He says from the front passenger seat, "Learn what you can about your powers, Balancer. If you chase these dangers down too soon, you may be lost."

If you say nothing more, they drive away.

Something he says sticks horribly with you ... "And every leak of him ... like blood ... into this world is possible birth to a horror your mortal mind cannot understand."

Well, you never saw him since the fight actually began. (I thought about it, and damn ... you didn't.) But you do see the odd black spot here and there when you check out the scene.

And those black spots ... few though they are .... start to wriggle and move.
............................................

Cloak, you manage to pool forth a sizeable amount of the inky blackness. It seems at first that you are almost taking a chunk of you, but you feel no pain. And then you recognize that just like the energies you channel, you pull it less "from" you and more "through" you. There's an instinctive thought to put it "back in" but it is too late.

The black mass glorps as it writhes and grows, separating itself from your hand and launching into the middle of the barn. It grows, and grows, shifting into various impossible angles that are horrifying.

By the end of the process, the impenetrably black mass is made of such geometry as to blast the mind ... but you are too shocked yet to for that insanity of impossibility to sink fully in ... and has only the vaguest semblance and size of a hound.

You know beyond all doubt, without any questions or sense of "live and let live" morality ....

.... this thing is bane to all life.

[BuckGodot]

Dear God, what have I done.......What......am I?
If there is a nearby implement, such as a shovel or pitch fork, I will grab it and try to pin the....."thing"...... to the ground or destroy it before it fully forms.....If it hasn't already.

[lostsole31]

You see a pitchfork, but before you go for it, you notice two things:

1) First, in coming through you from .... wherever .... your wound has healed and you are finally at full capacity. It seems that in getting hurt your "skin" is actually a gateway.

2) Second, despite your wound healing, in your Cloak form it now seems like another one is trying to make it's way through. You can tell that you don't have the mental power to hold it back.

Do you just deal with another one popping into this dimension, or do you try something to keep from bringing another thing into this world that cannot handle the sight, even the knowledge of the existence, of such creatures whose very presence is anathema to life?

[BuckGodot]

It would seem the prudent thing would be to prevent the arrival of another by closing the gateway. I drop the cloak form.

[lostsole31]

Cloak, It works like a charm. As soon as you shift back to .... whomever it is you actually happen to be .... all feeling of being a gateway ends. And your wounds are closed. Strange that channeling horrific energies should heal you.

And cruel. Is it having been wounded, or just being The Cloak now that has opened this portal to unspeakable terror? What will happen the next time you change?

No sooner do you cease to be the "Gatekeeper" ... (Who's the "Keymaster?" or is it the other way around?) .... the horrifying manifestation of elder unknowable evil in front of you gives an ear-shattering noise. I cannot call it a scream, or a shout. In fact, you can't even be sure if there is actually a noise or something in your mind. You don't know what it is .... it simply is.

The hound-like monstrosity roars past you, blasting a cow to shreds and blowing out the side of a barn. It doesn't "run" so much as it just moves against the ground, almost sliding against it, almost pushing against it and yet moving forward. You are a very intelligent man, but no genius, and this thing defies everything in your rather hard-facts spy-warrior knowledge base and experience.

You breathe heavily with a sense of fear and dread and worry that this thing may come back. You aren't sure how long you stand there transfixed, but not long after, you here shouting coming across the field from the farmhouse.

When you were recuperating at that hotel in Hudson City, you saw a few movies about trespassers on farms. Farmers always seemed distrustful and carried shotguns. You know you were watching fiction, but this seemingly universal trope should probably not be tested in real life.

What do you do?
.............................................

Mr. Ourobouros, as you stare at the black spots, they turn into hideously ugly bug-like creatures - extremely small, no longer than the palm of your hand if not smaller - unlike anything you ever have seen before. There is some quality about them that is surreal .... that they are less like any bug you have seen in real life, and more like something out of a bad dream. Then, as you think about what bad dreams or fiction might have included such a representation, they shift to meet that thought. (No, not the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Bug.)

They turn into the hideous little creatures from STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN ... the ones that would travel into someone's ear to control their mind.

The very horror is too much for you to handle. Whatever fear you might instill in others with your power gives you no defense. Your ego and your presence in the face of such monstrosity is easily overwhelmed and you are transfixed and unable to move, but shaking violently and beginning to jabber a little.

You can tell they sense you .... and there is something horrifyingly yet alien about them that betrays some sense that they might be intelligent. They move toward you, scuttling, and several get to your feet. Terrified and paralyzed as you are, you sense that your great invulnerability will not save you, and they start to part the dark energy sheath that protects you as if it were little more than a dark cloud.

And then, everything gets bright. Really frickin' bright. You sense that you are bathed in a warm, caressing light. Even that light isn't enough to banish your fear-paralysis, but when your eyes adjust you see that every one of these nasty things in sight (and many falling off of you ... yech) is shriveled up into horribly crispies. "Dead", if that's a proper term, but destroyed such that they no longer have horror in their mere form.

Your fear still takes several seconds to subside before a man walks into view since you - shaking from the ordeal - can't even bear to turn your head.

He is an unidentifiably-Asian man. About 5'8"-ish or so, slender figure. He is dressed in a nice suit and tie, impeccably dressed, with a nice hat. In fact, his manner of dress and custoed suit seem to be right out of a movie of men in business suits from the 1930s/1940s .... back when men had class and hats were in style. He has a thin-line tattoo of a dragon or snake of some kind coming up from his neck to include some of the left side of his head/face (back from the cheek, but including the eye). It is not thickly colored, and as a thin-line there is still more skin than ink. the tatto continues up under his hat.

He doffs his hat, and you see he is perfectly bald. The tattoo takes up the whole left side of his upper head. His demeanor, impeccable dress, his smooth skin and perfect lines betray what is a quite attractive man.

"This is interesting," he says in perfect RP (Received Pronunciation .... higher-class British). "The mind thiefs could not have made this battleground. I see a dead wheelman and you. Where, might I ask, are the other participants of what looks to have been an extraordinary battle?

"And you! Such a powerful mystic aura you possess. Easy to read. Let's see .... interesting, interesting. Well, well, well, my friend. It would seem that you are the current Enforcer of the Balance. How exciting! I was curious when I would see the next one. What do you call yourself?

"Oh, and how terribly rude of me! My name is Dr. Naga. Please forgive me if I do not shake your hand. I should think someone of your musculature would give me quite a squeeze."

Mr. O, you are free to act/ speak ...

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Holy crap! You've heard the name Dr. Naga before. You have a passing familiarity with arcane and occult lore. This guy's reputation is off the chart (having given you a +5 to the roll because of his high reputation throughout the Mystic World as the "Font of Magical Knowledge").

This guy isn't a random passerby with a power/spell (which, of course by now you are figuring was a spell of holy power because of the feeling it gave you) that happened to be helpful. This guy is a frickin' major leaguer .... and an MVP, highly paid, free agent celebrity even in those big leagues.

[BuckGodot]

I will run out the hole and into whatever cover I can find and keep running till I either can't or do not hear the voices any longer......

[srgonzo]

M-m-m-mr. Ouro-ourobouros. Sorry, I need a moment. It seems that my training has been fairly backward. I'm called Mr. Ourobouros. It's an honor to meet you Dr. Naga.

[lostsole31]

Well, a normal guy has Running 6" and SPD 2.

Even in your "mortal" form, you have Running 7" and SPD 4. That means that at an all out, NCM (Non-Combat Movement) run without burning END, you run at about 18 MPH. In human form. Sometimes, it's good to remember that you are still a very athletic and well-trained human. Or, you are not but you have a very athletic and well-trained alternate human form.

As far as you know, the jury is still out on all of that.

Nonetheless, you easily outstrip the farmer.

[BuckGodot]

Ok....So the big 3....Shelter, food and water......Time to find a road and start hitching in the direction I need to go.....After I find out where I am......Hmmm...

[lostsole31]

Cue "The Incredible Hulk" piano minor chords as Donovan gets to a road and starts to stroll down it ...

[srgonzo]

Right behind him is a toddler in red overalls and a yellow t-shirt walking down the lonely road, occasionally turning around and sticking out his thumb. Incidentally, he's right in front of Bill Bixby, who's doing the same thing...

[lostsole31]

FAMILY GUY style cutaways (even before the actual FAMILY GUY is mentioned), notwithstanding ...

Mr. Ourobouros? What do you do?

[srgonzo]

Spoiler

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I thought I'd posted this already, but apparently it didn't go through.

Not to be rude, sir, but did you come here for the mind-thiefs, or were you here to visit me specifically?

[lostsole31]

"You have answered the second question I posed, but answering the first may lead you to my purpose.

"In truth, I came for neither. Who participated in this battle, please, that brought forth such incomprehensible horrors?"

The shock of seeing him at first was enough, especially as Mr. Ourobouros' eyes were beginning to adjust from the burst of light that torched the mind-thiefs. He can now see that a shimmering glow - of which there is absolutely no doubt is holy energy - surrounds him.

[lostsole31]

"Donovan," says a basso profundo voice behind him, startling the hell out of Donovan with its suddenness ... not a sound nor a shadow accompanied that to forewarn the relatively aware spy-trained (it seems?) and observant man(?). But the mixed accent of a Caucasian-African who was raised in South Africa and India, and then London, is unmistakeable.

Donovan, when you turn around, the expected Springbok is standing there. In his arms lies Whisper's body, having been shot in the cheek. "I know what you might be thinking about him, but he still has a heartbeat and warmth. He will die if we can't save him somehow. Even though you flew, you seem to have been leaking a black blood that was relatively easy to track, even in the dark, with my animal senses."

[BuckGodot]

It's good to see you...Thank you for saving me.....But the cost may have been too great.....Where can we take him? I don't even know where I am......And the black blood.....It's.....Something....Evil.....It turns into a nameless horror.....It wants to destroy....I..... He stops, clearly shaken.....Takes a deep breath.....How can I help?

[srgonzo]

Mr. O provides a complete account, leaving nothing out, including his discovery that his powers are quite limited, his ability to back up his mental powers is weak, and he has to travel in a very mundane way.

In short, I'm in need of guidance, and it seems to me that I've gotten most of my training thus far from agents of Order. I don't suppose you would be willing to point me in the direction of a new guru, guide or teacher, preferably with someone who is willing to serve Balance?

[lostsole31]

Donovan ...

Springbok answers, "I say we find a village doctor of some sort and intimidate him into helping. I don't think going to a hospital for them to report a gunshot wound to the authorities is in our best interests.

"Of course, we could be boring. I run with Whisper and you fly and we go see the Man."
...................................

Mr. Ourobouros ...

Dr. Naga listens patiently .... very patiently, and very still. Eerily still, then finally nods his head once it is his turn to speak. "You weren't trained by Agents of Order. You were trained by an agency of law enforcement. Not the same, my friend. One is super-mortal, the other is not. The ones you encountered and led by Agent Smith? Those are the Agents of Order.

"You did train under an Agent of Good, or at least your shihan is a source for that without knowing it.

"But for Balance? I know of no such guru. But true to Chaos' penchant for unpredictability, your friend Cloak is now the Agent of Chaos. Perfect, because he may very well not even realize it yet, making him a very engine of entropy."

He looks up and to the side, as if listening for something. "It has begun. These creatures are your friend's blood, and have spawned. I must hunt them down and destroy them, and an even greater danger has been loosed into this world from an elder realm too terrible to imagine. I am sorry I cannot be of more assistance, but my mission is greater for the world for that chaos spreads quickly, and you are not as fast as I, and I cannot carry you.

"Goodbye, Mr. Ourobouros. I am sure I will meet you soon enough. After all," he smiles, "I am an Agent of Good."

He pauses for a second, then looks back to you. "There is one man who is of ancient visage, and has often served the Balance. If you will allow me to touch you, I can send you to him instantly. Of course, as old as he is, he might die of a heart attack. But that is the quickest course of action I can recommend."

Mr. Ourobouros, do you let him touch you?

[BuckGodot]

Donovan ...

Springbok answers, "I say we find a village doctor of some sort and intimidate him into helping. I don't think going to a hospital for them to report a gunshot wound to the authorities is in our best interests.

"Of course, we could be boring. I run with Whisper and you fly and we go see the Man."
...................................

I do believe speed is of the essence and I am not comfortable becoming Cloak right now. Let us find a local doctor and see if he can help us. We may not need to intimidate him.....Lets ask first.....

[srgonzo]

Hopefully it doesn't kill him. Please. I'll take what assistance I can.

Yes, I'll let him touch me.