xp_logs | Reality 02: Clan Akkaba - Arrival

Half of the group goes into the city to meet with the rebellion. There's the obligatory bar fight.

The city was reminiscent of a Renaissance faire. Well, a ren faire injected with a heaping helping of steampunk that was powered by magic rather than steam. The idea had been to blend in as much as possible to meet with Evan's loyalists, so any quick grabs of other people's belongings when weighed against helping stabilize their world was okay. Probably.

"I think I remember an episode of a Star Trek that went something like this." Alani announced to her teammates, and Clint. Though she didn't offer that she didn't remember that particular subplot ending well for everyone involved. "How we feeling, Meggan? Um, would you notice if someone was suspicious of us? Is this a question I should have asked sooner in our work relationship?" No time like the present to find out as far as she was concerned.

Meggan supposed there must be a lot of Trek episodes like this, given their love for exploring strange new worlds, so she couldn’t really narrow it down to which series it was that Alani was referencing. It certainly wasn’t the one with evil facial hair. At the question, she realized that, somehow, it just hadn’t come up between them before now. It also brought up another question in her own mind on what she’d get for input if somewhere was blatantly different in sensations and, for instance, the elements themselves, like the tree she’d commune with outside the bedroom.

“Should be able to tell, yeah,” she confirmed with a nod as she looked over to her. “It doesn’t feel too off kilter or all that strange from how our world feels normally if that makes sense, so I’d still know even if I wasn’t looking at that particular individual.” She paused. “Unless there’s some kind of spell of concealment, but so far, so good.”

Matt was holding a long tree branch in lieu of a cane, one hand on Alani's shoulder for guidance. Or at least the appearance of such. "I don't hear anything," he murmured, "People are talking, noticing us, but it is more my height that seems to be the interesting thing," he was a good head or more above most people, but he wasn't so tall to be remarked on, at least in his world.

"Well stop being tall," Alani quipped softly, shifting her posture as if that would drop her a few inches to what seemed to be the average here. She would have been more than willing to rely on Matt's senses, but with the information that Meggan's empathy did, in fact, extend to the point of being able to tell if anyone turned a more skeptical eye towards them, she relaxed a touch. Well, relaxed was probably the wrong word, but she felt like she had enough room to breathe and begin to mentally check over their instructions while she pretended to act as a lead. Get into the city, meet with Evan's supporters, flash the token for good measure. "As long as everything goes smoothly, this really might be an in and out mission."

"Yeah, it’s more curiosity about us wandering about right now, than screaming ‘not one of us!' in a creepy voice and sounding all alarm bells,” Meggan agreed in light of Matt’s comment. She was all for it going smoothly, and nothing going horrifically wrong.

So long as the rumours and supposition kept to the theory that they were travelers from far away, then it was fine. That wasn't far from the truth depending on your perspective. "The public house is up ahead," Matt could smell the yeasty beery scent more prominently now mixed with the sawdust and other natural odors of a place without plumbing. What he wouldn't give for the city right now. Specifically one with concrete and plumbing.

Meggan had expected a throng of people milling about and roaring with laughter from time to time from a joke they could scarcely be privy to, being from another dimension. However, she just hadn’t anticipated the horridly familiar stench that rose to meet them upon their entrance. She so wished they could leave some blueprints for a toilet or septic system with a blacksmith, along with a plunger, but that would probably get them into trouble. Instead, Meggan merely gave a little shiver of horror, waved the worst of it from her, and plunged on ahead.

With an air of desperate hope that she was right, she spoke. “We might acclimate to it if we’re here a few minutes long enough?” It was nothing like a pub in the Lord of the Rings stories, but one did what one must given what they were here to do.

Alani had grimaced briefly as her senses picked up things she didn't like, but she'd pushed her brain to ignore them. That her companions had much better senses had her shooting them both a look of sympathy, one hand coming up to pat Matt's on her shoulder as they made their way in. "If either of you need to take a moment, I think we can spare it." She offered softly, because surely they could stand a few minutes while she scanned the crowd for the people Evan had described. Couldn't be too hard, in fact, she slowly cocked her head to the side as she tried to decide if a group on the far wall were who they were looking for. Or... she shifted her weight a bit, brows knitting together as she began to second guess herself. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm from New York," Matt pointed out, "Summer in the city is not pleasant. This is fine," this was disgusting, but as he said, he had spent summers in NYC. He had been around much worse. "Do you see our contacts?"

“I’m fine. I’ve smelled worse things, though it was outdoors, so plenty of ventilation,” Meggan noted, once she had acclimated. While that first whiff had been truly pungent, there were far worse areas to be stuck in. She looked around the sea of faces. “In the corner?”

"Perfect, because I'm pretty sure that's them, yes." Alani's voice raised a few notes as she realized they were close to accomplishing their task, more than a little proud of them. She steps toward the group, suddenly more aware of the other people in the tavern and wishing for the first time she was maybe half a foot shorter. "Please tell me we haven't somehow committed some social faux pas."

"Of course we have," Matt released Alani's shoulder to head to their informants, placing the token on the table. "I was told you could help us," he stated.

The scrape of a chair reverberated through the space as one of the rebels stood up, staring at Matt.

As they rose, Meggan was quick to attempt to defuse the potential danger. “We mean you and your cause no harm. We were just planning to talk,” she began as comfortingly as one could when faced with this situation. Inwardly she almost drolly mused to herself that she didn’t even think it needed saying out loud to her friends that these fellows were veritably overflowing with suspicion.

Unfortunately, Meggan's attempts to defuse the situation were unsuccessful. Several other individuals got to their feet, glowering at the three. "There's nothing we need to talk about," one said, a heavy-set man with a shock of tangled red hair and beard. "We want nothing to do with any strangers."

"Well, let's not be stran-" Matt's words were cut off as the man's fist interrupted. Well then. Pleasantries aside then. Using his tree branch as a staff, Matt blocked, ducking and twirling before breaking the staff in two over the man's back. Alani was not so lucky and she went down hard from someone. He only caught the tail end of the motion, but it seemed as if someone came behind her with a serving tray.

That was a mistake. Him against the bar seemed like great odds. Time to go to work.

Meggan knelt beside Alani, and was relieved once she determined that she was unconscious, and not worse. She quickly hit her com once she was realized that Alani wasn’t getting back up; she really, really hoped that it wasn’t too bad of an injury. She heard a grunt of exertion to her right; as it was, she only just managed to duck down and thereby evade a chair being thrown in the melee.

“Clint, Alani is down,” she worriedly reported. “Hey!” she yelped, once her finger was off the com’s button. She was forced to kick a guy in the head, before he could fling a large glass at either her or Matt. This might have been her first bar fight, but she could still do what she had to do.

"Gotcha, Meg," Clint said, any lightheartedness he might have felt dissipating as he flipped up the little plastic cover over the button that would remotely activate Alani's gauntlet and bring her home. She appeared, unmoving, in the center of the pad and Clint briefly abandoned his console so he could check her vitals and get her out of the way in case the others had to make an emergency return.

Reaching for his phone as soon as he had Alani situated with her head propped on a spare duffle bag full of not-ready-to-use eXcalibur uniforms. "Heya Doc. I'ma need you to come down to the wormhole room. We've got at least one person injured..."

In the hush that followed her friend’s sudden departure, Meggan put down the stray chair leg that she had been grasping in case it was necessary. She held up her hands to show that she had nothing else on her that could present itself as a threat. As a reflection of what they needed and, she really hoped, likely desperately wanted at heart, she put on the friendliest face she possibly could. She hoped it was convincing enough to put these men at ease. She managed to find the guy that had started all of this.

At the last, Meggan refrained from adding genuine puppy dog eyes to herself, because that would be more uncanny valley in a person than convincing on any level for innocence. “We came to help you, not to fight you,” she softly explained. “Please. We are all loyal to the same king as you.”

The man had been, like the others, staring with mouth agape at the spot where Alani had abruptly vanished. "Witch-breed..." he murmured to himself, before turning to the young woman addressing him. To his eyes, she resembled his daughter when she was appealing to his better nature and he dropped the bottle he'd been using as a club. "The king?" he replied, just as softly. "Is it time?"

"The lamp is lighted. Genesis is returned." Matt ground out, glaring. This all could have been avoided.

The man holding Matt by the collar immediately released him. "Genesis has returned!" he echoed.

"Genesis has returned!" The three words swept through the bar as each individual stopped what they doing and repeated them in a tone of reverence and relief. "Genesis has returned!"

The man in front of Meggan raised his hands and the room went silent. "It is time," he pronounced, and then he turned back to Meggan and Matt. "My deepest apologies, Bearers of the Sign. Please, take us to him. Lead us to our King!."