Dorian Roberts's Story

Nestled in New York's Upper West Side, there lies a quiet little street, somehow removed from the typical hustle and bustle that painted most impressions of the city that never sleeps. Yes, you can still faintly hear the call of New York City's traffic-filled streets, the constant noise of people making their way from point A to point B or just wandering whether they be tourists taking in the sights or residents content to be lost amongst the throngs of people. The point remains that the street filled with mid-rise apartment buildings is relatively quieter, the roar of the city dulled almost to a murmur of background noise. And, on today of all days, if you were to find yourself on that street, you could also hear the musical strains of "The Sparrow" wafting into the crisp Autumn air from the open window of a penthouse apartment. Inside said apartment was eighteen-year-old Dorian Roberts, his attention firmly on the cello in his hands as the bow danced across the strings.

Unlike most people his age, Dorian wasn't spending his free time running amuck in the big city that he'd grown up in, window shopping to their hearts content, hanging around in the many hot spots that littered the city or grabbing a bite in the hundreds of restaurants and bistros dotting across the map. That kind of life of careless frivolity, of just doing whatever, consequences be damned didn't fit in his so carefully structured life. Really, he avoided it unless he was invited out and even that was only under extreme duress from his few friends. Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but the point remains that Dorian was never more comfortable(or we could assume that he was happier) than when he was in one of his happy, structured places places. That could mean his weekly class at the dojo, orchestra practice, or, as in this case, simply lazing around his house. It was a boring life, admittedly, but Dorian didn't have much of a desire for adventure. He much preferred the predictability that his life had gained over the past few years. It was safe, it was structured, it was comforting, and, most of all, it was home.

Dorian's concentration was broken mid bow-stroke by the soft chime of his ringtone. He paused for a moment before setting his cello gently down and snatching his smartphone off of the table next to him, answer the call with a flick of his index finger.

"Hello?"

"Dorian!" The voice on the other end of the phone was warm but harried.

"Hey, Dad." Dorian couldn't help the little smile that wormed its way onto his taciturn expression, unconsciously fiddling with the simple, silver bracelet wrapped around his right wrist with a simple aquamarine as decoration. A bit feminine, perhaps, but it was a gift from his father, and who was going to get the courage together to infer that Dorian was feminine? "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing much," The tone was forcefully nonchalant and Dorian felt the smile drop off of his face. "It's just…"

"You're working late again." It wasn't a question, just a barely restrained statement.

"I'm so sorry, Dory, but the other chef caught the flu, and they couldn't find anyone else at such short notice. Is that okay?" Dorian held back a frustrated sigh. Of course he'd be missing dinner. Again. His lips twitched into a frown, breaking his taciturn expression into one of unmistakable disappointment mixed in with a bit of irritation. Yes, where he lived was a home, but it hadn't felt like it lately with his father so busy. So was the woes of the son of now famous chef Avery Roberts. He tried not to resent it- really, he did. His father was so happy that his career had taken off, they were firmly secure in their finances, but there were some days when he didn't see his father at all and that didn't sit well with him, not to mention the fact that they'd been planning to go out to dinner tonight for at least a month now, and now... And now… But his father was working so hard, and he sounded genuinely sorry. Yes, Dorian was upset, but he couldn't let on, he couldn't burden his father like that.

"That's fine, dad. It's not your fault," The joviality in his own voice was forced, but he'd been faking it for some time now that it was almost an art. "We can just do it another time."

"Thank you, sweetie," Avery sighed with such relief evident in his voice that Dorian felt a little victorious. Yes, he'd lied, but it had obviously been for the best. "I'll see you later, okay? I love you!"

"Love you too." Even after hanging up, Dorian simply stared down at his phone for a minute, the little victory slowly receding and leaving pure disappointment. Suddenly, the room didn't feel comforting anymore; too stuffy and empty all at the same time. He had to get out of here, clear his head for a while. It wasn't like, he noted bitterly, he would be missed if he stepped out for a while. With a practiced ease, he packed his cello away, still taking the time to loosen the bow and wipe away the white rosin stains despite his rush. In only a few moments time, he'd grabbed a charcoal gray coat with a dark blue scarf, sliding it over a blue shirt and black slacks, slipped on a pair of black shoes, tucked his wallet and phone away in a pocket, and, after grabbing his keys and locking the door behind him, was off.

Central Park was only a hop, skip and jump away from the apartment he shared with his father(Avery Robert's excited words, not his to absolutely no one's surprise), so it didn't take much time at all until apartments and busy streets were replaced by grass and trees that had already begun to change into pretty fall hues of red, orange, and yellow. He just walked for a while, eyes straight ahead and pace kept constant as if he actually had some idea of where he was going. The chill in the air was more brisk than cold; pleasant, unlike the previous awful heat of the summer months.

He came to a halt in one of the quieter places in the park, only a few people scattered around, all of them, surprisingly enough, rather young. Well, around his own age. Some were simply wandering about, enjoying the bit of greenery in the metal jungle that was New York, others seated on the few park benches, and, finally, there was a little scene playing out in front of a tree. A girl with long, blonde hair came suddenly tumbling out of the many trees dotting the park, tumbling to the Earth with a splash of dead leaves in her wake. He blinked, only giving it a slightly longer glance. This was Central Park, after all, and it wasn't immune to the strangeness that was New York. Still, he wasn't a complete monster, and even if she was stoned out of her mind, he could be content with the fact that he checked at least.

He didn't run, but did pick up his pace a bit as he crunched through the leaves until he was about a yard away. She looked dazed in her bed of leaves, and now he could see how she was dressed. No shoes in Central Park? Maybe he wasn't very far off the mark with his drug explanation. Either that or a tourist who mistook the green bit of land within the city for a park like those found in more rural surroundings.

"Hey, are you alright?" He didn't sound particularly worried or friendly, more curious in a blunt sort of way.

After one month, Jason still couldn't get use to being in New York. Man, and he thought Nashville was confusing. He didn't see how the people here in New York could actually find their way around. He always got lost. Always! Almost every time he left his aunt's place, after about ten minutes of walking, he'd have to stop someone for directions. Sure, the majority of them were usually helpful and nice about it, but it was annoying how those few would smirk and then make some stupid joke or comment. Kind of like the guy he just talked to. I mean, seriously, he hardly even had an accent, and saying "y'all" isn't something that makes you super country... not that he had an actual problem with people thinking that. That guy was just really, really annoying. But, eh, it wasn't like he'd see that guy again.

He ran a hand through his hair as he stopped walking. 'So, where am I again?' he thought. He looked around, doing a full 360 before slouching and sighing in defeat. At least it was obvious he was near Central Park. I mean, it is pretty obvious with all of the trees and stuff...

He shrugged and gave a little half smile, putting both hands into the pockets of his dark denim jeans, thinking, 'Hey. What the heck? Not like it'll hurt to take a little detour before pick'n up the food for Aunt June anyways.' And with that he found himself walking aimlessly around Central Park.

He liked seeing all of the fall colors, and as he kept hearing his feet crunch fallen leaves, he grinned and looked at the path in front of him. He started jumping and maneuvering around the path, trying not to step on any leaves. After a few minutes of success he stopped, smirked and said, "Oh, yeah, I'm a ninja," then he took one step back and heard a crunch. "... Crud."

"Tch! Oh well, it was a stupid game anyways," he said, sounding a little like a kid whining after losing.

"Ooookay, anyways," he straightened his black and green, long sleeved flannel that he was wearing (unbuttoned) over a fitted black t-shirt. "I should probably get moving." He turned around, started walking, and then paused with a blink. "Wait... which way did I come from? Uh..." He blushed, as he realized he was lost... again. Well, he was just glad, no one was around. He laughed out loud, "That would be embarrassing." He took in a deep breath before releasing it and said "Alright, I'll goooooo," he spun around, and stopped randomly, pointing in front of him, "this way!"

Just about that time, he heard a thump, and someone walking through the leaves by all the apparent crunching he heard, which in turn made him jump. He put a hand on his chest and sighed, "Dang, that scared me..." He turned his head, curious to see what had made the sounds, and started to walk in the direction he thought he heard it from, rubbing the ring he wore on the middle finger of his left hand with his thumb. Soon he saw a guy standing about a yard away from a girl lying on the ground.

'What the heck is she doing here?' He thought, and as he got closer, 'And wearing... that?' 'Whoever she is, she's crazy.'

It didn't look like the other guy was gonna step any closer, so he hurried up and crouched down beside her. "Hey. Hey, uh, person, you alright?" He waved his left hand in front of her face, "Ya still with us?" Then he noticed her ankle at a weird angle and pulled his hand back. "Okay, not good..."

The candles flickered uncertainly as the room filled with heat. The flames danced for an instant in the gentle flow of air, threatening to turn the room pitch black with their death. Fearless, the silent guardians remained at their post. It was their sacred duty; one they would not easily falter. Proud and tall, they stood, unaware of their impending demise at the hands of their master. They could not possibly understand that the one they were meant to guard would be the one to put an end to their brief lives. Even if they were to know, how could they possibly fight back? Their entire existence was to serve. To deny this was to invite death. They were trapped, oblivious to the fact that they had only one purpose, unaware that their lives would always be at the hand of their master. So they continued on, lighting the room with their warm glow, blissfully unaware of what was to come.

As the room warmed, their master smiled. She payed little attention to her guardians, for it was her tools that garnered the most interest. Her slender fingers gently flipped over the first card. A young man stood, clutching one of nine long wands. Weary, he leaned on the one in his hands in hopes that it would provide some support. The young girl didn’t need to ponder the meaning of this. After all, it was the past. She had already lived through this part. Overcoming obstacles and continuing with tenacity was something not easily forgotten.

The second card featured yet another man with wands. He clutched one of the three with certainty. This was the card of the present, telling of the young girl’s travels to this city. It was, unfortunately, not for leisure. Rather, it was for business. Of course, the girl had foreseen this weeks ago. With these cards, she had seen many things. Her eyes, pale blue like glimmering starlight, had scanned the intricate pictures for years. Oh, the things that had come to pass.

Her hand hovered over that last card for a moment as she prepared herself. Whatever that card showed, she would have to be ready for it. Who was to say what would happen in the future? Love? Fame? Perhaps an untimely demise. She bit her lip as she grabbed the edge of the card. Flipping it, she gasped in fright.

“Autumn, I’m heading out! I might stop by a restraint. Want me to get you anything?” The lights were turned on and the door opened, rendering the candles useless. The woman behind the intrusion fiddled with her earrings, trying to put them in place.
Autumn let out a ragged breath, looking at her mother with a mixture of surprise and disdain. “Mom! You scared me!”
“Oops! Sorry, Hun! Really though, you shouldn’t be in the dark all the time. It’ll ruin your eyes.” The woman let out a satisfied hum as her earrings fit in place.

“No it won’t. That’s just urban myth.” Autumn retorted, blinking to adjust her vision.

“Alright. I still don’t know why you insist on using those candles, though. Wouldn’t it be easier to use the lamp next to you? Or the ceiling lights?”

“It’s called ambiance.” Autumn said with a playful smugness.

“Whatever you say.” The woman checked her watch. “Oh! Is that really the time? I have to go. Love you!” She walked out of the room hurriedly, her heels clacking against the floor.

“Get me a burger!” Autumn called out. She could only hope her mother heard her.

Well, she might as well flip the last card. The mood may have been ruined, but she still wanted to know what to expect.
She frowned. This didn’t make much sense. What sort of message was this supposed to be? As far as she knew, she wasn’t going to travel any time soon. Aside from going home, of course. That, however, was no earth shattering adventure.
More travel to unexpected lands seemed like a rather odd future. It had just happened after all. Perhaps she had read it wrong. Either way she had to try again later, or risk another misreading. Travel huh… Well, if it was travel that the cards had predicted then travel is what she would have. Maybe a walk through the park? She had heard it was rather beautiful. Besides, her mother’s meeting would take a few hours and some fresh air would do some good.

For a moment, she almost walked out of the door in her pajamas. Autumn rushed over to her luggage, pulling out a black pea coat and dark jeans. Now this would work just fine. Putting the cards in her purse, along with her makeup and phone, she left the room and set out for the park.

Needless to say, Autumn was a dreamy sort. She thoroughly believed in the paranormal. There were a few times that she had even decided to go on investigations of paranormal hot spots. Nothing really happened, but that didn't matter to her. She was sure that the spirits were just tired or something. Or perhaps her good luck charm had kept her from being attacked by something sinister.

Her “charm” was a necklace. A tear shaped topaz that hung from a golden chain. Autumn had bought it at a flea market and never stopped wearing it since. It was just too pretty to take off. Besides, it looked good on her.

Leaves crunched under her black flats as she walked through the park. Fall really was a beautiful time of year. Back where she lived the trees didn't change color. They didn't change much at all actually. Palm trees sort of stayed the way they were. But New York, as opposed to California, had seasons that obviously changed. It was actually rather nice.

She brushed a loose strand of her light blonde hair out of her face, huffing when some got in her mouth. Really, long hair was such a hassle. Still, she would never dream of cutting it short. Short hair simply wouldn't look good on her.
Autumn gleefully studied her surroundings. It was so very beautiful. She didn't really have another chance to see a sight like this again. That is, not to her knowledge. Perhaps tomorrow she would ask the cards if she would ever see this again. But for the time being, she was content just to sit down on a bench and watch the leaves fall. No, this certainly wasn't a grand adventure. And there certainly wasn't any danger nearby. It was peaceful. Just the way she liked it. That is, until her eyes caught a rather odd sight. A girl in a tree. Now what in the world was she doing up there?

Autumn winced as she felt a cold shiver run up her spine. Curiously enough, it was her neck that was the coldest. Upon further inspection, it was the necklace itself that created the chill. It felt like it was as cold as death itself. No matter. The girl that had fallen out of the tree was more important than the chills. There were already a few people there. Autumn walked over, curiosity taking hold. “You… um. You alright?” The girl seemed fine. Nothing broken or bruised. “Do you need any help?”

Harper smirked to himself after giving directions to someone who clearly wasn't from New York City. Or possibly any city. But definitely from the south. "Y'all," he said aloud to himself as he waited briefly at a crosswalk, mimicking the tourist's accent, and promptly chuckled at the sound, "Y'all better git, ya hear?!" he continued, exaggerating into the stereotypical Texan drawl, and laughed even louder. That dude would be perfect for Oklahoma!

The curly-haired Manhattan native whistled the theme song to the musical as he crossed the street prematurely, heading towards the Starbucks on the opposite end. His dad was paying for his hotel room (so generous. much loving father. wow) which left Harper plenty of leftover cash to spend on other, more important things...like coffee. That was really the only other thing he had inherited from his dad besides his curly locks and straight nose: an addiction to caffeinated beverages that rhymed with toffee. But they differed, as always, when it came to drink preferences. While his dad always ordered his coffee black and downed it as such, Harper liked to experiment. And today seemed like a caramel frappucino day. Vente. With whipped cream.

As Harper waited for his ordered, he fingered the new addition to his shark tooth necklace: a small pearl ring he and Sadie had found at the bottom of the hotel pool. It had been Sadie who first spotted it, a slightly shiny speck at the deepest part of the deep end, and Harper had fished it out from the drain, which was actually frightening considering he had TV-marathoned Final Destination only two nights ago. The ring was too small to fit on any of his fingers, and he initially tried to give it to Sadie, but his sister gave it right back, saying that pearls were his birthstone, so it'd be better if he had it. Besides, she didn't like pearls anyways. "Only diamonds for this girl!" she had joked at the time.

"Well, diamonds are a girl's best friend," he mused aloud as he retrieved his drink.

"What?" the barista asked.

"I said thanks for the frappucino!" he shouted in response as he plucked a straw from the container, and traipsed out the store, slurping loudly, heading for Central Park. He hadn't been home-home in months, and the giant park was one of his most-missed locations. Besides the beaches and the pools, of course. Maybe he'd find another wedding to crash, like last time. Or get a photograph by that one dude who posted his photos on facebook...Harper followed that shit like crazy.

He made short work of the frap, and bought a handful of roasted chestnuts not long afterwards from one of the many street vendors along the path. Crunching his teeth on the hot nuts provided a much-needed warmth, especially after that iced drink.

He hadn't traveled too far when Harper suddenly heard a familiar accent. Turning, he spotted the very southerner who had asked him for directions not too long ago! Or...he spotted the back of the guy...at least he thought it was the guy...Whatever. It wouldn't be the first time he'd walk up to an utter stranger. Wouldn't the last either.

Stuffing the warm chestnut-filled paper bag in his letterman jacket, Harper turned right on the walking path, flip flops slapping the leaves as he neared the tourist. "Eyyyyyy!" he called out when he was only a few yards away, announcing his arrival, "Yo, you lost again? I don't remember what street you wanted, but I definitely know it wasn't in Central Park."

Now standing next to the flannel-wearing blond, and grinning, Harper first noticed the other male. Looked younger than him, but taller Darn. He looked to be a native though...if only through the dressing style. Then there was the blond girl...definitely shorter than me he thought with approval. After glancing between both of them, still smiling, he noticed they were looking down at something, and Harper followed their gaze.

"Ohhhh...." Harper said, "There's....yep, there's a girl on the ground. So that's what we're looking at." She....well, maybe she was from SoHo or something...one of those weird artsy students. I mean, look at that dress. And no shoes? Clearly she was into some tree-hugging major. I mean, it looked like she had just fallen out of a tree...heh...the treehugging was probably done without consent.

"Well," he announced, pulling his phone out, "As incredible and awe-inspiring as this sight is--I mean, it is New York City--we all probably have other things to do and weirder things to see, so uh...since your ankle looks all screwy I'll call you an ambulance, give your coordinates, and I think we can all go on our merry way."

Tallyho let out a rather unattractive groan; she pulled her brows into a tight furrow before relaxing her face, and opening her eyes only to see a gaggle of people who, in her option, were excessively frightening. The first person she took notice of was a pale, dark haired boy, whose voice was about as dead as the eye of a shark. She began to wonder if the chilly weather was just a result of empty air clawing out of the crevices of his soul. The next was a young man whose speech was drawn out and rather slow. She made an attempt to identify his accent—to figure out what part of Aires he was from—but because of her flustered state and the crowd of people hovering above her, she simply decided that his speech was too slow for comfort, and therefore pretty annoying in this particular moment. She grunted as his palm swept over her face and she turned away, claustrophobic and put off by his close contact. As an approaching blonde joined in on the “are you alright” chant, a loudmouthed man began to yodel something about an ambulance which, at this point, Tallyho hoped was a type of pastry chef because she was pretty pissed.

“I’m fine,” she grunted, voice soft but groggy. She tried to swat the slow speaking boy off of her as she sat up, though with her concussion, her gesture was probably likened to slapping him in the face with a wet noodle. After struggling to her feet, she took a long, hard look at each of the characters surrounding her. Well at least she thought she was staring them down. For all she knew, her eyes could have been zipping about from her dizzy spell.

Cold, hungry, angry, and with a concussion, Tallyho struggled to offer a thanks for their concerns, but managed to get it done through broken, slurred speech.

“Now where am I?” she asked, attempting to sound as polite as possible despite her discomfort.

Jason's shoulders stiffened as he heard a familiar and annoying voice. The same voice of the annoying guy who he got directions from earlier. Seriously!? Seriously? After the guy stopped talking, Jason started to turn his head to give a smart reply, when he heard "I'm fine" and felt a full-handed sort of tap on his cheek. He blinked, looked back down at the girl, 'guess she is still with us, huh?' and then stood up and stepped back, giving her some room.

He watched as she pushed herself up shakily. 'Yeah, you sure look fine, sweetheart,' he thought sarcastically to himself as he started twisting the silver scorpion ring on his finger. He paused, raising an eyebrow as she tried to look intimidating... at least he thought she was trying to look intimidating. After hearing the slurs she gave, he really wondered if she was just some weird drunk, and when she asked "Now where am I?" he nodded to himself. 'Yeah, that's it... or she really hit her head.'

"You're in Central Park.... Do you remember how ya got here?" Though with how she was acting, he didn't think she remembered anything, and an earlier thought came back to him. 'Yeah, she's probably crazy...'

A well-muscled blond teen with a faded blue baseball cap pulled low over his face, plodded along the sidewalk rolling a paper covered in small, neat script between his hands over and over again, while talking to himself. If any passers-by noticed him they might think he was crazy, but one of the things about New York City is most people just wanted to get on with their own business, and were often blind to anyone else. He hunched up his shoulders to remain temporarily invisible and saw only the grey sneakers on his feet. This boy also wished to just get on with business for now.

Raising his head and dropping his shoulders, he paused at a subway station. He needed to take the subway to return to the little rowhome in the Bronx where he lived most of his life, but his feet remained on the street, stuck like glue. "I can't face Dad right now," he whispered in a strained voice and turned away even though he knew his dad would worry about him. It seemed his dad was perpetually worried about him, not that the boy didn't give reason for worry. Proof was there in his hands and on his face; a split lip and black eye definitely don't mean everything is a-ok. With an angry grunt, the teen shoved that paper back in his muddy backpack and started running. Running felt good, but was unfortunately something that drew people's attention. People on the street started shouting at him and he heard sirens.They better not be for me, he thought and kept running.

Since he wasn't watching where he was going, he ended up running into someone significantly taller than him with black hair. "oof!" he grunted and fell back, but the shorter blond didn't stay down long enough to feel pain. He dropped his backpack and jumped back up in a defensive position, since he didn't know what to expect from this person.

Harper snorted when the southerner got slapped...or tapped...by the SoHo chick. "See, that's what happens when we crowd people," Harper tutted, turning away to make his call, "Ya hear?"

He himself didn't hear the girl's questions or the tourist's response. Nor did he see the blond guy barrel into the tall and, now that he thought about it, somewhat intimidating yet familiar face that belonged to the dark haired dude. As he lifted his phone to his ear (he had decided to call the Central Park Medical Unit, since the bohemian girl didn't seem to be in too much of an emergency), he did notice the girl on a bench not too far away, a textbook on her lap. She was kind of cute...He gave a short wave to her, smiling widely, but he wasn't completely sure she had seen.

"Central Park Medical Unit. What's your emergency?"

"Uh, yeah, there's this girl who looks like she fell out of a tree," Harper explained, "Yeah, I think she maybe hit her head too hard." he turned back to glance at her before reaffirming, "Yeah, probably hit her head too hard. Oh and her ankle didn't look that hot either." He provided the coordinates of where exactly they were in the park and answered a couple other questions before hanging up.

"Good news, chica," he hollered to the injured girl, waving his phone, "Your ambulance is on its way! So just sit tight for like ten or fifteen or twenty minutes." He honestly didn't know how long it would take them...a girl who was still functioning after falling out of a tree probably didn't beat out a possible bicycle accident or an injured puppy or a cat or frisbee or kite stuck in a tree.

Yuki

Yuki’s serious and determined face hid the excitement that was burning inside of him, ready to take him over and cause him to explode. Studying in New York, in NYU for crying out loud, was an awesome experience, but studying Journalism was his dream. In high school, he worked his butt off preparing a suitable portfolio for his work, writing in the school newspaper and preparing a mix of photos he had taking over the years from different gigs and scoops he experienced. Now, he was in the big leagues, determined to make a name for himself. Getting through the dreaded Core Requirements was a bad enough roadblock to his path to success, but to be denied of a trip abroad because he was too young and didn’t take the required Journalism classes yet was a huge hindrance to him! Somehow, he got this crazy idea to go up to his professor for his Methods and Practice Visual Reporting class to talk about his situation. His professor saw that he was a determined kid and he said that there can be some leeway if he was ready to take the challenge. Determined, Yuki agreed and the professor suggested that he consult advising first, but that he was going to make a recommendation for Yuki to study abroad early. However, he had to make the best first class portfolio for his visual reporting course and bring together something more unique than a tragedy, comedy, or heartwarming story. If Yuki showed that he had potential through his project, maybe he could do a Journalism study abroad in the summer.

So then, why was Yuki at the Central Park when he had to come up with the portfolio that could determine his future? Well, it was his best place to think and his favorite area for photos. Central Park was picturesque, as though it was made for recording and photography. Yuki was excited about his chance and couldn’t wait to get started. However, where he should start is the question. To find something unique took a chance moment, and chance moment was what Yuki hoped would be in Central Park. He made sure to pack extra amounts of memory cards, his tripod, two journals, and of course his cameras for the hunt for the biggest scoop. Along the way, he decided to practice on some locals. Who knows, his big break could come from something ordinary and unexpected. So he filmed whatever he saw, hoping to get inspiration.

It was a fall afternoon and the leaves were rich in vibrant reds, glowing oranges, energetic yellows, and some vivacious browns. The park was bursting with activity left and right. Yuki took out his video camera without the tripod and set the memory card in place, ready to capture something that would help out his career. He sat down on top of the massive heaps of black rock that were in Central Park to get a good view from the top. Focusing his camera to the left, Yuki captured two little children’s climb to the top of another large mound. To his right, he captured a heated argument between a couple which ended in the lady pouring her bottle of water on her man—er ex—and storming away from the scene. Ladies and gentlemen, the typical New York lifestyle Yuki thought. Adventure in one corner and heartbreaks at another. C’mon, New York is supposed to have some excitement and uniqueness, what’s so unique about all this crud?

Suddenly Yuki heard some commotion near a tree and a leaf pile. He turned his camera and increased his focus to find a blonde girl with strange clothes and no shoes on the ground and people gathering around her. Yes! Some excitement! This is going to be golden. I better get closer...

Yuki climbed as fast as he could safely down the massive black rock and hurriedly got closer to the commotion. He crouched down behind a nearby bush and set up his little film studio, trying to conceal himself. Setting the tripod as low as possible and focusing on the scene, he witnessed a group of people helping the girl who seemed lost and confused. Yuki turned the sound up to try and listen into the situation. It seemed there was some sort of ambulance on the way and he hoped they wouldn't catch him in the bushes. While the situation was still on hold, Yuki took out his notepad and jot down some notes on the situation:

Incident in Central Park: A Damsel in distress
Subject is a female blonde, strange clothes, barefoot, a foreigner. Seems to have fallen from a tree and is lost and confused. Approximately four people aiding her...no wait five.

Yuki observed a man bump into one of the guys on the scene and covered his mouth to muffle his chuckle.

Ambulance on the way. Confusion and unknown situation. Persisting to observe to comprehend the situation.

Where this was leading to, Yuki couldn't know, but it was still something he can observe and something he can feed to his camera.

(OOC: Sources for some of the information here are:
https://journalism.nyu.edu/undergraduat ... sm-abroad/
https://journalism.nyu.edu/courses/2014 ... porting-2/ )

Autumn frowned. This girl had fallen out of a tree and didn't want an ambulance? What was she, a druggie? Alcoholics she could handle. Drugs she could not. How would she even help someone who was stoned? She imagined it wouldn't be like bringing Emily to bed with a glass of water after she hit the booze.

As the girl stepped on a pine cone, Autumn winced. Yeah, she was definitely stoned. The situation was starting to make Autumn a bit uncomfortable. Sure, she had been to parties with alcohol. Drugs, however, were never present. Just the thought of them freaked her out. What if the girl started yelling at traffic or worse, attacking others? Autumn wasn't quite sure of the effect drugs had on people, but she was certain they weren't good.

Honestly, this whole day was just weird. A girl falling out of a tree, a young man bumping into another and presumably ready to start a fight, it was all just too much. Autumn backed away, not willing to deal with whatever nonsense was going on. Maybe this was the norm for New York, but not for her. She pondered going back to the hotel. Though, she could get some shopping done.

The other blonde gazed at a tree, leaving Autumn feeling more uncomfortable with each passing second. She bit her lip, hand covering her purse. She felt a little bad for fearing for her safety, but one could never be too careful.

She turned, noticing a girl who had fallen to her knees. "Hey, are you okay?" She asked, feeling a slight sense of deja vu. Oh yeah, she had asked that earlier to the tree girl. Great, now this girl was looking at the tree, too. Autumn gave it a glance, just to see if there really was anything going on there. As far as she could see, there was nothing there. What was this, a mass hallucination? Though, if only two people saw it one could hardly call it mass.

The blonde extended her hand to help the girl up. She could only hope that this one wasn't on anything. From the looks of it, she seemed safe. "Here, let me help you up." The act was short lived, however, as she heard a creaking sound from nearby. She turned her head, eyes widening as the tree leaned forward with an unsettling groan. Quickly, she tried to find an explanation. Root rot maybe? That sounded plausible. She gulped, forgetting about the girl on the ground for a moment.

Autumn was well aware that the tree was falling. She didn't need anyone to tell her that it was. This didn't mean she didn't appreciate someone telling her, though. She glanced back at the fallen girl. "Come on, grab my hand." The roots flung upwards, reaching towards the sky. Not waiting to hear the girl's response, she made a grab at her and tried to get them both out of harms way. She herself was fine, but she wasn't sure if the girl she had tried to help had made it. She could only hope.

Her fearful eyes locked with the other blonde's for a moment. Was she enjoying this? She looked away, back to the fallen tree. This was crazy. This was just too crazy. Autumn shook her head, ready to just leave. She would much rather be at the hotel than in this mess. It was the hand that stopped her from walking away. She felt her heart sink. Trembling, she stood in place. Try as she might, she just couldn't will her legs to move. They twitched occasionally, as if they were teasing her. She heard the tree girl speak, though her voice seemed much farther away than it actually was. "I'm trying to run." Autumn squeaked out a reply. "I really am. I just can't seem to move." With all her willpower, she managed to step back by about two feet.

As it turned out, Dorian was far from the only person in New York concerned however mildly with someone else's well-being. He watched in growing discomfort as others began to swarm around the girl in her bed of leaves(well, as much swarming as three people could do, anyways), attracted to the incident like flies to honey. The first was a boy who slipped by Dorian without so much as a glance, instantly crowding the girl, checking her over with an inexperienced eye. Even before he opened his mouth, all uncertain words and a distinctly Southern accent, Dorian had him pegged as a tourist from his flannel shirt to the fact that he was willingly invading the space of someone who had not only managed to climb one of Central Park's tall trees, but also to fall without so much as a scratch. The next person- a girl this time dressed all in dark clothes- arrived just as suddenly, hovering slightly away, but still asking the same question that had already been asked, offering help. Another tourist. Dorian was getting good at this guessing game. The last one was certainly the most welcome because, despite his apparent tendency to narrate whatever he saw, he was taking care of the scene with the same disinterest mixed with practicality that Dorian could appreciate.

But the girl was fine enough for all of their concern(however mild that may have been on Dorian's own part), climbing unsteadily to her feet and staring them down with a hazy gaze and a strangled out thank you that spoke wonders of just how disoriented she was. With an ambulance being called and two other people willingly answering her questions, Dorian prepared to slip off, his role in this little scene hopefully done. Going to Central Park, he decided as he began to step away, wasn't always the best idea. Who knew what sort of strange characters you'd end up meeting? Like the strange character who promptly barreled into Dorian. As Dorian let out an "oof" at the impact, stumbling back a few steps, his mind couldn't help but half-heartedly add, 'this would never have happened if you'd just stayed home today.'

Dorian's accidental assailant went sprawling on the grass, somehow more stunned by the impact than Dorian himself but only for a moment before hopping to his feet, dropping a dirt-encrusted bag, and putting up his dukes like Dorian had been the one to carelessly throw himself into him instead of the reverse. Dorian was unamused, uninterested, and, above all, unimpressed. The two were like opposites, Dorian towering over the wannabe fighter by almost a foot, even with the other boy standing after his little fall. His face was a mess, a black eye and a split lip visible under his ratty blue baseball cap, so obviously this wasn't a one time "let's fight people" occurrence, a far cry from Dorian's own neat and calm appearance.

"Excuse you," Dorian deadpanned, staring down at the boy critically. It wasn't meant to look particularly mean or threatening, but Dorian was cursed with features that made nearly everything look intimidating regardless of his own intentions. Also, yes, he was mildly pissed off. There was a moments pause, the other boy still staring at him fiercely.

"Look, what do you-" the demand died mid sentence because, as it turned out, Dorian had bigger problems than a slightly insane guy with a thing for starting fights. That would be bigger problems both literally and figuratively in the form of a tree being uprooted. This was weird, even for New York. Also dangerous, again, even for New York as the large tree went careening downwards at a remarkable speed right towards the other guy. Dorian had a choice then, a choice to either run away, like a normal person, or to put himself willingly in danger for a person he didn't know nor care about. It only took him a split second to decide.

Dorian tackled the other boy to the ground, pushing both of them out of the tree's descent and rolling in the grass and out of harms way. But Dorian didn't have time to worry about grass stains, however, because no sooner did he look up from his position sprawled above the other boy than something happened that he couldn't quite explain. Someone- no, something- was crawling out of the dirt, all skeletal claws and exaggerated proportions, reptilian skin and fangs, not teeth, fangs. It was like something that had stepped out of a horror story, a sci-fi monster from another world that couldn't possibly exist by any stretch of the imagination. But it did- it did exist, it was there right in front of him. And, perhaps the most disturbing thing was that the girl- the stoner or crazy or whatever she was was leading it away, trapping it somehow. This couldn't be real, it shouldn't be real, but the noise, the smell, the strange, warm sensation on his wrist where his bracelet was- all of the evidence pointed to this scene not being a figment of his nightmares, but to an even more horrific reality.

The much taller black-haired person, a young man actually, glared at him and Kyle responded by bearing down in his defensive stance. Yes, this guy was nearly a foot taller than him, but Kyle wouldn't back down. He was never intimidated by folks being taller than him. The guy didn't hit him yet, but he was talking in a tone, the blond didn't like and then frammit! The bigger guy tackled him suddenly. Kyle punched out at the guy's face and shoulder. He didn't want to kill anyone, but he wanted this guy off! If his hand connected at the face, the other guy would probably have a bloody nose.

Because he was so much shorter, he didn't see what was happening behind the black-haired fellow, but he heard a lot of unpleasant noise. Creaking and shouting and UGH! an absolutely horrid screech! "Get off me!" he protested to the guy pinning him down and opened his fists to push that weight off. To top off this horrible scene, there was sudden pain in his right ear that doubled the headache from that awful screeching.

If Dorian had expected a pleasant response for tackling someone out of the way of a falling tree, he would have been sorely disappointed, emphasis on the sorely, by the other boy's reaction. He swore, rolling off his assailant and staggering to his feet in one less than fluid movement, right hand clasped over his nose to stem the flow of gushing blood. Drops of crimson already decorated the green grass beneath his feet, painting dead leaves in a macabre fashion. It was only the most pressing injury because, damn, the other boy could pack a punch, even when flailing wildly as he had been. The teen didn't have time to nurse his wounds, however, because there was something that needed his attention more than a possibly broken nose. Monsters, apparently, had that impact on people by making their everyday problems seem minuscule in comparison because, yes, his father not showing up for dinner was upsetting, but not more so than, say, some sort of Eldritch abomination killing him.

The scene had continued to play out when Dorian had been more preoccupied with his own issues. People were scattering to the wind, doing the normal thing, the smart thing in running away, taking off in all directions to save themselves. Others were not, and he wasn't even sure why he was surprised. There was a boy waving a camera around in such a way that reminded Dorian of a mix between an insane paparazzo and those found footage mockumentaries. He was with two of the girls left- the tree girl who, as it turned out, was probably less insane than the rest of them for staying if only because she apparently knew what was going on, and another. Others dotted around the park, either frozen with fear or grasping clumsily for weapons, and there was a dog barking somewhere, but Dorian's attention remained fixated on the immediate problem.

The monster, unbidden, had broken free of the bench that had seemed like such a good trap only minutes before when the metal had twisted forcefully around the creature, pinning it within. Now it was continuing its rampage, but it had a target now, or, rather, the predator now had the perfect prey. Dorian hadn't seen what led up to the fixation the monster had on the girl, but it made a sort of horrific sense. She wasn't in the best shape- that much was obvious even from a distance, too frail, almost sickly looking- and her pace was slowing with each step, or perhaps the monster was just increasing speed. Easy prey. It was looming over her now, and, for the second time that day, Dorian was faced with a choice. He exhaled, pulling a now blood-stained hand away from his nose and groping in his pockets. Keys, phone, wallet… there. He found what he wanted- a pocketknife, another gift from his father. It wasn't incredibly large and certainly wasn't meant to cause harm, especially since he primarily used it to snip off loose threads on clothes, but it was large enough and definitely sharp. He clasped it in his hand, unfolding the blade. Choice made. He apparently didn't have a good track record for making choices today.

Dorian ran then, each step punctuated by a pulsating warmth emanating from his bracelet that he didn't have time to worry about, gradually picking up speed as he sprinted into death's grip with only a hope, a prayer, and a knife on his side. The monster was even bigger up close making even Dorian feel small in its shadow, but he couldn't worry about that now. Now he could only worry about his aim, as he stumbled into the monster's path, dug his feet into the ground, and, with a shout and in one swooping motion, buried his knife into the creature's chest. It went in surprisingly smoothly, and he could see blue blood oozing from the wound, intermingling his his own red covered hands. He looked positively feral then, blood staining his face, knife buried to the hilt in the monster, teeth gritted with the effort of twisting it and digging it in deeper. This was not how he expected his day to go.

Tallyho was growing rather exhausted by the wild goose chase, and she was a little disturbed by a tall man who insisted on putting a foreign object in her face. What was that, anyway?
Though a little rough-looking, a black haired girl tried to stab the cyclopean, she failed. But the soulless one, oh she knew he meant business from the moment she opened her eyes and saw his orbs of eternal disapproval staring into her effortlessly. She wasn’t too surprised that he was the one to kill it off. He was mostly out of the way, silent and, it was the quiet ones that were the most dangerous. He stabbed it in the right place too, the cyclopean screeched and quivered, black liquid began to overflow from his wound. It must have been the luckiest stab in the world, too. It had to be.
It scattered—the thing that once terrified them all took the form of a pile of onyx shards in the wilting grass.

Tallyho had seen cyclopean parish before, so it wasn’t like its way death was particularly foreign to her. But in a way, the death of this cyclopean felt less like the death of a cockroach, and more like a surreal awakening. Her stomach seemed to turn, and she felt the air grow colder. It was then that she knew that her life would change significantly.
Tallyho grunted, rising to her feet like a newborn deer taking her first steps.
“You’re still alive, Tallyho. You did well,” she huffed as she placed a hand on her collarbone and caressed her necklace.

It was searing hot—a brilliant glint of purple. She let out another yelp, blind and in pain.
“Damn necklace,” she huffed violently under her breath. She fumbled with its chain, desperate to finally release herself from it. But it wouldn’t open. She tried pulling it over her head, but instead the thin, sliver chain dug under her jaw. Head too big. Frustration. Hopelessness.
She looked up at the sky, and saw that it was white, and that the clouds were being eaten by its blankness. She frowned.
The high towers were disappearing from roof to base as the whiteness was slowly consumed the city from above. She looked past the trees and buildings, towards the horizon. The white barrier was consuming the city from all sides.
She glanced at the others, and then her surroundings again. The white wall made it to the tree that had fallen, slowly closing in on the group like a shrinking box.
Tallyho squinted, but soon resorted to covering her eyes when she was sure that she was—like the fallen tree—consumed by the white wall too.
It was like experiencing death while still being very alive. She couldn’t really say how she got from point A to point B. One minute she was opening her eyes again; curious about what she would see in the white of her surroundings. She blinked, and then she stood in darkness.

Complete and utter darkness with single glimmer of golden light the distance straight ahead. She did not dare to move.
There was no way that this was happening. She either had to be dead, or at the bottom of a valley of poppies, far fallen in a floral coma.
Then a path of little white dots lit up before her and chilling the soles of her feet. They looked like stars—and yes they were—flattened into a pathway leading to the light. Beneath the path of stars was the illusion of a troubled sea that wavered in a storm. She looked above and there was blackness, but against this darkness slid two paths of flying birds that zipped in opposite directions. The image of white underbellies moving eternally and consistently above. Their bellies were soft and round and their gentle coos rang throughout the space. One path flew forward, disappearing into the golden light and the other path zipped behind her. She turned around to see a wide gaping vortex of blue and black. The birds flying towards her made nose dives above her head and sunk into its tunnel. She had another look around and realized that the eleven teens from the odd park were there too, idle just as she was.

She was sure that they were going to be confused and ask questions, but this time she was in the same ignorant boat as they were.

“Welcome to the Core.”

Tallyho’s eyes darted back and forth. It seemed as though the stars on the path before her lit up even brighter. The voice was a gentle soprano full of knowledge and grace. It was in the way the voice wavered, how precise the lady-vocals were with language.
“The pathway before you is a dimensional bridge. It foreshortens the universe so that one may travel between the two existing worlds. One being familiar to most of you—planet earth. The other is called Aires.”
There was a pause. Tallyho felt pretty bad not knowing much about the Earth place mentioned.
“Most beings are not able to enter the core. Only those with special purposes are allowed to successfully travel between the two realities. And the twelve of you are undoubtedly special beings.

Since the beginning of time there has always been a special discourse between the humans and—the creature that you experienced back on earth—the cyclopean. However, these disputes have only been confined to Aires. But because of the race’s growth in power, they are infiltrating earth at increasing rates.
So why are you here?
Well, first I’d like to begin by telling you a legend.
It began long ago, when a powerful evil began to encompass the land. Oblivion, the king of the Cyclopean, took over the entirety of Aires, murdering all who opposed him.
And as a result, I created twelve stones and infused their powers into a group of mortals who possessed the ability to manipulate the elements by wearing their respective jewels.
You may recognize these warriors as the months of the year.
The people of Aires called them the month warriors—saviors who would vanquish all chaos—demi gods of a sort.
They purified the land, but in the final battle Oblivion mysteriously vanished, and soon the confused warriors were consumed by their gems. Some way or another, the gems found their way to you twelve, and after much searching, they have finally found the right mortals to harness the powers they contain.
It is your destiny to suppress the rise of the cyclopean, for the fate of two words hangs on your shoulders.
So here you are with two paths before you,” the voice hummed.
“You can turn around now, and go back into the blue portal from which you came. Go back to earth, and accept the fact that you are turning your back on the two races of human and that you will only be able to wait hopelessly for the cyclopean to inevitably enter your realm. Or you can walk forward towards the golden portal. Where you will enter Aires and make the commitment of being Month Warriors, and actually make an active attempt to suppress the problem before it spreads.
But just remember. It’s all or nothing. Eleven heroes cannot do the work of twelve.”

The voice went silent, and the star path grew dull.
Tallyho looked around at the others. So this entire time she wasn’t on Aires?
That meant that those people were…aliens.
She shuddered, and began to regret getting those damned apples. But at least she got to go back to Aires, even if impending doom was on the way.
“I’m going home,” Tallyho said plainly. Her amethyst lit up, and this time it did not burn. She supposed it was some sort of testimony to her joining the cause, or whatever. Though that wasn’t necessarily invested, she wanted to go home.
Without waiting to see if the others would follow, she walked down the star lit path towards the light head high, golden locks rippling in the galaxy dust.

Harper had broken the surface in time to see something bounce off the monster and splash into the lake. A second later the monster had turned around and was chasing someone else, away from him. He gave an enormous sigh of relief, sinking just a little in the water.

His curiosity piqued about whatever had fallen into the water...it didn't look like a frisbee since the splash was so small. Ducking underwater, a familiar stinging hitting his eyes, Harper swam to the spot where it looked to have landed. Oblivious to whatever was happening above land, he finally found what looked to be the shaft of a knife sticking up from the muddy bottom. Retrieving it, he realized it was indeed the shaft of a knife, with the blade still attached to it. Small, but well-crafted it looked. He hadn't gotten a good look at whoever had thrown it so....finders keepers? Briefly he imagined the look on Sadie's face if she found out he had stolen someone's knife. If she found out...and he hadn't actually stolen it. The person had lost it in the lake...

Lungs reminding him he needed to breathe, he resurfaced. He was wary of returning to the shore, scanning the park. A ways off he saw a black mass fall to the ground, still, before shattering. "Well, good thing that's taken care of," he said outloud, "Stupid aliens should know not to mess with us Earthpeople!" Deciding it was safe to return to land, Harper swam to the shore, his jacket still on the ground, relatively unscathed. Hauling himself out of the water, he shook himself like a wet dog, water from his clothes and locks spraying everywhere. Picking up his jacket and pulling it over his shivering self, he held up the knife he had found and opened his mouth to ask for its owner.

An intense heat interrupted him, blossoming yet again from the same place it had before. With a shout, Harper dropped the knife. This time wrapping his fingers with his wet shirt, he looked down for the source of the pain. He was startled to realize it came from his shark-tooth necklace, and even more surprised to find the exact source was from the pearl ring he had found earlier that day!

"Stupid, cheap piece of plastic," he muttered, struggling to untie the wet cord behind his neck. It took him a few minutes of useless fumbling before he remembered he still had a knife. It was when he turned to relocate it that he finally noticed the whiteness closing in. His eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed the knife before running away from the erasing, panicking. What was this? Some sort of alien thing? Had he stayed in the water too long and not realized it? Was he dying? Was this a trick?

His feet couldn't carry him fast enough, and in an instant white surrounded him entirely...

He hadn't realized he had closed his eyes until he opened them, and was startled by the darkness.

"That's it. I'm definitely dead..." he said out loud. He wasn't even sure how he was standing...looking down, he only saw more darkness. Yet as he kept looking, small pinpricks of light glowed below his damp flipflops, and then spread, creating what looked like a bridge of light. Closer inspection revealed what looked like an ocean, waves rolling not too far below them. When he looked up he noticed the others from the park, standing around and looking just as confused.

A voice started talking, speaking of warriors and gemstones and cyclosomethings. Words that flew over his head until the very end, when she spoke about their "destinies". When she finished speaking, he frowned. Commit to being monthly warriors on the basis of an attempt to suppress those beasts? Not even obliterate or wipe out, but suppress...meaning they'd still be around. And there were supposed to be more of them in this other place?

This had to be a trick. Had to. Some sort of trippy thing, maybe an amusement ride or simulation, where they needed random people's opinions. It was New York after all. It wouldn't surprise him.

What did surprise him was when one of the girls announced she was 'going home' and then walked towards the other world. What was she, crazy?! Squinting, he realized that it was the same girl who had fallen out of a tree, so...yeah, he wasn't surprised anymore.

"Well, I'm going home, too," Harper said loudly, turning back to the blue portal, "Besides, if the only basis for picking us people is because we have a magic birthstone or whatever, I literally just found this ring today, a few hours ago, in a hotel pool, and I'm pretty sure it belonged to someone else, so, uh...yeah. I'm definitely the wrong guy for this. I'm out."

Once the black-haired guy released him, Kyle could see what was going on. "Damn!" he muttered to himself when he saw that massive alien beast thing and the tree uprooted and lying on the ground not far from him. Apparently the other guy pushed him out of the way, and he freaked out... Another thing the blond ruffian didn't want to tell his father about. His father wasn't a mean or bad guy. Actually his father was the best guy Kyle knew, but that was the problem. Kyle was always in trouble for one thing or another, even when he wasn't trying to be. Punching that guy who got him out of harm's way was another stupid troublemaking thing for the boy to do.

He shook his head. He didn't have time for this! That monster was chasing a dirty and way too thin girl, and before Kyle got himself together, the same guy who saved his butt approached that monster and well, Kyle didn't see what he did, but the monster collapsed into a pile of black stone. The blond shivered at the sight but got himself back together faster than before. As something of compensation, he pulled a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket and jogged over to the other guy.

Rubbing his neck with his free hand, Kyle handed over the handkerchief and said quietly, "Here, clean up a bit." Turning his head away briefly, he continued, "You can tip your head back to slow the bleeding." He paused again and kept rubbing his neck. This was a seriously awkward situation and his day was already bad, but he wasn't a coward and could 'fess up' to his mistakes for the most part. It was easier with strangers than his family though. "I'm sorry for that. I...I wasn't thinkin' right."

While he was still speaking, the pain in his ear elevated and a white fog came over them. He tried to avoid expressing the pain, so the guy wouldn't think he was unwilling to say what he needed to. Temporarily he went deaf and numb, which freaked him out AGAIN, but this time Kyle kept his hands to himself.

When sensation returned, he was on his knees in a weird place that looked like the entire universe and every ocean in the world were crushed together and flattened. This was really freaky! He couldn't hold back a shout of surprise. Topping off this awful day, some lady somewhere said he had to save the worlds of Earth and Aires. What the Heck!? How could some freak like him save anyone? All of his teachers said he was nothing but trouble; actually pretty much everyone thought he was a troublemaker. He sat down and shook his head, protesting this weird lady's words. She couldn't be right, but what if...

Jason' s smile disappeared as he noticed a freaky hand coming out of the tree after it fell. His eyes widened as, not just a hand, but a whole freaking monster thing emerged from it. Taking a few steps back, Jason surveyed the area, seeing most of the people still here. But what was that idiot girl doing still standing there!?

He watched the scene unfold, and it happened fast. From the girl who'd fallen from tree throwing pinecones at the monster, to being chased by it, to it being stuck in a bench, to that first guy he saw stabbing it with a dangerous look in his eyes.

Jason had unconsciously started to sprint towards them when the monster was towering over the girl, his finger burning with a white searing pain as he moved. "Damn it!" he stopped sprinting, the pain too hot for him to focus, and tried to yank the ring off. It wouldn't budge. It would twist when he twisted it, but it wouldn't move past his knuckle. "W-what the hell is going on!?" And though he saw the guy stab it, he wasn't really focused on it, only on his ring. Until, that is, he saw everything starting to be swallowed by a wall of white. He closed his right hand tight around the fingers on his left and did a 360.

"There's no way out of this thing... crap." He closed his eyes as the white closed in and waited. For a second, he felt a very strange shift in the air around him, and the pain from his ring stopped. In fact, everything stopped, and it felt like he was paralyzed and having the air pulled out of him before things snapped back to normal. He opened his eyes slowly to see blackness. "What-" He cut off as lights arranged under him and in front of him, creating a path. He started and looked down, and with a blink of surprise noticed that under the lights it looks like there were churning dark waves. He looked around slowly to see eleven other people there as well, all of them he thought he recognized from the park.

"Okay, what is going on?"

His eyes shot forward as he heard a smooth voice start to speak, almost sounding like it came from every direction. He heard as the voice started to talk about things he wasn't familiar with, and his curiosity caused him to listen, really listen as she mentioned the legend, the birthstones, and the monster thing. What did she call it? He tried saying it out loud in a whisper, "Cyclo... Cyclopean..." And as the voice finished talking, giving them a choice... well, he'd already decided without really thinking about it like he should have.

He heard someone say, "I'm going home," and was surprised to see the girl who he'd before thought was crazy walk towards the other world, and after a second, things clicked in his mind. She wasn't crazy, she must have been from this, this Aires? If everything happening wasn't just some illusion or dream or something... He glanced back at what he assumed would be the way back to Earth, and then looked in front of him to where the girl was walking.

Yeah, there was no way he was changing his mind now. The peridot on his ring started to glow right as that previously annoying guy said, "Well, I'm going home, too," and he started to walk before saying, "Well, I'm in. I'm not sure if any of this is real or just some crappy dream, but I don't think I could walk away even if I wanted to... It feels... right to me." Not that I can actually DO anything...

What in the? Falke’s brain felt groggy, like the times he'd stayed up far past his self allotted bedtime or tried to do too much in one day straining body, mind, and soul. How long had been sleeping on the floor, again? And, wait-... Voices? Familiar somewhat at that, and yet-... Reality returned with a short, unpleasant jerk. Already standing upright, he wobbled slightly, off balanced by the sudden spell of dizziness plaguing him. He sucked in a breath of fresh air, unaware that he'd been holding it, with a gasp. He'd been getting away with /it/ and whatever was happening, finally getting Otter to follow him by tugging on the leash, and then nothing, absolutely bloody nothing. Coo like clinks echoed and rolling waves roaring softly became noticed by his ears, seemingly falling directly underneath him, or above him maybe, or really both at the same time. He honestly wasn’t sure, but all he could say was that this certainly didn’t feel like he was at Central Park, or in New York City anymore at that. Alright, set priorities straight. Monster had been attacking, clearly not in the park anymore, and a whole bunch of teens crashed on the floor around him. Something was happening, though he wasn't quite sure what. Wonderful. He raised his hand to rub gently at the side of his temples, wincing slightly because of the rope-burned flesh of his palms stinging painfully, noting the disappearance of his blind-man’s ‘sunglasses’ as he did. Great. That was his third pair this year, his parents wouldn’t be pleased to get him another. But then again, losing his glasses seemed less of a problem currently, than the pickle he was currently stuck in And, wait… Rope-burns? The leash. Crap. Where was Otter? He’d been right behind him, tugging on the leash, still barking his silly head off at the monster. And now? There didn’t seem to be any hide or hair of his dog. Depp… He didn’t however have time however, to continue chewing himself out or perhaps calling out for Otter, as a Voice echoed forth.

His brain was able now to comprehend what was being said but not at the same time, maybe it was the echoes fault, likely. Or, well… He couldn’t quite believe this was all happening. Month warriors? Spirits stuck in stones in their jewelry? Save the world? Destiny? Yea, right – a ton of stuff worth investing his sanity in, no not really. All 12 or nothing, well, that didn’t sound pleasant… Falke glanced about, his eyes narrowing wearily as they made their unfocused trek about the room. Listening to the others varying remarks of going home, both heading in opposite directions, more than slightly disconcerting he’d might mention if asked, and another’s happy-go-lucky why not giving it a shot. He stayed silent however, not voicing a comment or opinion. Because really, while he was not sure on his own answer to the question asked of course, but - blue portal to earth or gold portal to wherever that was again? Well, the humming listless noise that he assumed were the portals happening on either end of the room – didn’t really shout out blue or gold to him, so like he knew where to go if he did decide. Great.

It all happened so fast. Before the blonde could answer, a black haired girl attempted to knife the creature without success. Then a guy stabbed the creature in the chest, causing it to ooze black liquid and shatter into a bunch of onyx pieces. After some confused looks exchanged by the group, a white light surrounded the area, causing Yuki to raise his hand to his face to cover his eyes.

"Arrgh! What is this light?"

When the light show subsided, the people that were surrounding the monster were gone! Yuki took a look around the park to make sure he wasn't dreaming. The tree that the blonde lady he was talking to was still crashed down, the bench was wrecked, and the brown jacket of the guy that took a dive in the lake was still there. Everything that happened was real and the people involved were gone.

Yuki didn't know what to make of the situation. He walked by the lake where the guy was wondering whether he drowned or not, but he doubt that happened. Something weird happened here in Central Park, he just knew it. He looked back in his camera, watching the events playback as though he had just filmed a movie. Only it wasn't a fake monster, a cast of actors, or a made-up set. That stuff that happened was legit and he recorded it on tape.

He jumped up in excitement and shouted, "YES! I got the film I needed, and if I need proof I can just show them the tree and the bench. I just have to take care of this fil--"

Suddenly, Yuki heard a "sploosh!" coming from the lake and he heard a "Woof!" coming from the direction it was thrown from. it seemed a dog and his owner was playing fetch, and the ball headed in the lake right where Yuki was standing. Before Yuki could make hold of the situation, the dog crashed into Yuki causing him to fall into the lake and drop the camera he was holding. "No!! The tape!!" Yuki shouted. "Damn dog! That was my proof! My chance!" He swam to the bottom of the lake to try and find his camera, but the water was so murky that he couldn't see. He dived many times down scrambling to find the camera, but he never found the camera.

He would have given the dog's owner an earful, but by the time he resurfaced after the tenth or twelfth time the dog and his owner was gone. "Curses!" Yuki grumbled smashing the water with his fists. "Now what am I going to do!?!"

After getting out of the lake without his camera and with the rest of the equipment soaked, Yuki did the only thing he could do. He walked back to his dorm to get a fresh change of clothes and figure out how he was going to buy his whole equipment again.

Skylar watched with wide eyes as one of the boys who had been standing near the tree earlier stabbed the thing right in the heart, a deafening shriek filling the air as the creature dissolved in front of her. The burning sensation coming from her necklace intensified, the sudden increase in pain bringing her to her knees.

She opened her mouth to scream but couldn’t, her heart thudding away in her chest. An overwhelming sense of panic washed over her, her eyes squeezed shut as she struggled to take in air. She was going to die, she was going to die, she was going to die…

Just as quickly as the pain had increased it was gone, the burning replaced by a comforting warmth that seemed to envelop her like a thick blanket. Skylar felt like she was floating, the panic replaced with a strange sense of calmness.

If this was what dying was like, she was totally satisfied.

Slowly her eyes opened, her surroundings gradually coming into focus. She definitely wasn’t in Central Park anymore, the familiar chaos of the city replaced by a serene setting that she couldn’t even begin to explain. Her older brother had told her about patients who explained their own near death experiences, saying that it felt as if they were traveling through a tunnel towards a bright light. While Skylar didn’t consider herself to be religious, maybe this was what heaven was supposed to be like.

Regardless, Skylar wasn’t exactly sure what to think about this whole situation. The rational part of her kept saying that this was ridiculous, that she should turn and go back through the portal that led back to Earth. The other part of her was attracted to the idea of being an “undoubtedly special being” though. That and the fact that she was pretty sure she was already dead, and what else did she have to lose anyway? Not much.

"I'm in." She stated, glancing back to see if any of the others had made up their minds yet.

Black blood oozed from the beast like pus from an infected wound. It flowed to the ground, leaving its mark on the earth. Autumn blinked, not sure if she was grateful or disgusted. She let out a slow and tentative breath, as if to test if it was alright. So far, so good. If she could breathe, then perhaps she could walk. Her unsteady steps seemed less difficult than before as she slowly tried to make her way out of the park.

The beast shattered into onyx shards like glass falling from a broken window. It was a pitiful death to be sure. This terrifying creature was left as nothing but a pile of tiny black stones on dead leaves. Autumn didn’t even question how such a thing could happen. She could only think of how it sapped away her fear. There was nothing scary about tiny stones.

Her steps grew steadier as she tried to pass the scene. She was definitely going home. No need to stay around here. She stopped, however, as her necklace pressed harder against her skin. Underneath her coat and sweater, it was supposed to be warm. Instead, it felt like ice. The piercing cold dug into her like knives, forcing her to hug herself tightly to try to ease the pain. She let out a sharp gasp, doubling over as the unnatural chill tormented her. This deathly cold, it went straight to the bone. There was no shivering, only pain.

The world started to fade, white erasing the skyscrapers. Perhaps this was a side effect of the pain. Was she dying? Surely a cold necklace couldn’t kill someone. Through squinted eyes she surveyed her disappearing surroundings. The whiteness was closing in, engulfing the world in emptiness.

She closed her eyes, hoping it would go away. Maybe this was a dream. She would wake up at home in her nice bed, surrounded by stuffed animals and posters of her various interests. Her eyes would fall upon the picture of her and her friends and she would know she was safe. Oh, how she wished this was the case.

The pain left just as quickly as it had arrived, leaving her both relieved and confused. Cautiously, she opened her eyes and stood up. The world was black now, a more discomforting nothingness. Autumn bit her lip. Maybe this wasn’t a dream. Maybe she wasn’t dying. Maybe she was already dead and this was simply her journey.
She looked around. Most of the people from before seemed to be there.

Before her was a golden pillar of light. Heaven perhaps? Autumn had never really given Heaven much thought. She had always believed in regeneration. Would she get in even if she didn’t believe? Had she sinned too much? Was she hellbound? Trying to communicate with the dead wasn’t a sin, was it? She tried to think of the seven deadly sins. Which ones had she committed? Gluttony. That was for sure. She wasn’t a whale, but she was certainly chubby.

Before she could worry any more than that, a path revealed itself. Tiny dots of white light, stars of varying shapes, formed beneath her feet. Beneath them, an ocean in the middle of a storm. Autumn stared at it for a moment, entranced. Perhaps she wasn’t a sinner after all. This was too pretty to be hell. She almost wanted to touch them, just to see if they would respond. Above her, white birds flew in various directions. Her eyes followed one of them as it soared to the vortex behind her. Surely, that had to be hell.

The star path lit up brighter as a voice spoke. “Welcome to The Core.”

She sounded godlike, beautiful and wise. The feeling was inexplicable. It was as if her body simply wouldn’t let her feel anything but whatever this was. It wasn’t quite positive, yet it was nowhere near negative. One could describe it as neutral, but there was too much emotion there for it to be so. Warm perhaps? Trusting?

Autumn listened intently as the woman spoke. At least this wasn’t Heaven or Hell. Though this all sounded outlandish, she didn’t question it. Perhaps this was due to her wanting to believe in such things. Perhaps the voice was simply too convincing. Or, perhaps, she just liked being called special.

A demi god. It sounded nice. In fact, the whole story sounded nice. Gods, powers, stones. There was, of course, the fear of these “Cyclopeans”. But to be revered, to be a god, it sounded wonderful. Frightening, but wonderful. As the story continued, and Autumn finally caught on, she found it a little less positive. Her destiny was really to fight those creatures? How was she expected to fight them? She couldn’t even move when she saw one!

Still, there were people depending on her. If this was real, and she honestly couldn’t think of how anyone could fake this, then she would be dooming millions of people. It was a terrifying, and also a little flattering, thought. She gulped.

Her eyes looked upwards as she thought it over. Assuming this was real, there were two worlds at stake. Hers, and this “Aires”. If she were to go home, she would not only be keeping the rest of the group from fighting but she would also be allowing the worlds to fall to ruin. The Cyclopeans would invade and her world would die. Then again, the military would surely get involved. They would figure out how to kill those things soon enough. But would the war end? On the other hand, if she were to go to Aires, she would become a demi god. She would gain powers and be revered. Of course, she would have to fight the Cyclopeans. Still, superpowers. Finally, she decided to go to Aires. It was better than waiting for her world to burn.

Others started making their choices. The other blonde opted to go home, which appeared to be Aires. Well, that explained how she knew what the Cyclopean was. Others agreed to the terms, saying they would go to Aires. There was one, however, who chose to go home.

“Wait.” Autumn said, walking up to him. “You can’t leave now. You heard what she said, it’s all or nothing. If you go, then none of us can help either world.” She reached for his arm, trying to stop him. “What about the people back home? They’ll die without our help! Are you really willing to risk millions of lives just because you don’t want to do anything? Do you really have no one you want to protect?” She protested, though her voice remained steady.

Everything happened in matters of mere minutes, shattering a once peaceful day that almost signaled the end to a near perfect vacation. The people flocked to the park like some unheard call had lured them step by step into the trap that sprung the moment the strange blonde was encountered. The appearance of the monster, its slaying and the scattering of what was left brought a chill to the warmth of the autumn sun. Onyx stones that glinted hard and cold amongst the autumn leaves that made the park beautiful at this time of the year.

The brunette that was called here by that same instinctive lure watched all that had happened from afar. A small twinge of ice radiated against her wrist, the worst of the pain emanating right where the turquoise stone pressed into her skin. The image of everything around her, flashing and fading to white to only be replaced with the spectral like area around them. When the woman appeared, speaking a greeting, the one who had kept silent stepped closer to listen.

As dialogue was exchanged, more information filtered into the mind of the watcher, her nutmeg eyes glinting with some emotion be it pride, hunger, or lust. It was hard to tell. A coy smile curled its way onto her rosette bows, deft fingers brushing through the chocolate curls that rested on the pretty little head of the female that had kept quiet. A demigod? Now... that is better than Lead Actress! And that weird monster... so that was what the woman meant by a 'cyclopean'...interesting. The thought brought an entertained chuckle from the seventeen year old. Her fingers curled around the bracelet at her left wrist, her coy smile twisting up further.

People depended on her! This was the most exciting thing to happen to her! Lux couldn't help but let another chuckle escape her, feeling nearly light headed from all of this! Imagine me, Lux Adair, a demigod! Someone that people depended on protecting! More and more thoughts of the same nature dashed across Lux's mind, allowing her to keep her silence. However, she knew what she was going for.

With sure steps, the brunette allowed her feet to carry her across the crystalline path towards the portal that would lead to the world called Aires. Where she was to be the hero, but... Lux stopped in her tracks, her eyes glancing over the others she was supposed to work with. Another one had went to talk to the male that seemed to be staying behind or indecisive. It did not matter what he was to Lux, but it appeared that even if she went ahead, nothing would be done if he didn't follow. Perhaps it would be best to wait for them? It must be suicide to walk into a world she knew nothing of alone, when she had these others to have her back.

"Do you really have no one you want to protect?"

Harper froze mid-step at those words. His eyes widened briefly as he thought of his sister, Sadie...she was the only person who had ever cared about what he wanted, who actually cared about him, and she was also the only person he ever cared about.

With an exasperated exhale out his nose, Harper spun around slowly on the inhale. Exhaling into an annoyed smile, Harper looked down at the blonde girl.

"Look, you," he said in an irritated tone, "This game that you're trying to pull, this guilt-tripping, reverse psychology bullshit? Whatever it is, it's not gonna work. Even if we all help, who says it's gonna work? You heard the lady: attempt to subdue or suppress or stifle or whatever she said. Not eradicate. Not annihilate. Not "get rid of the problem entirely". And there's not even a guarantee our attempt will pay off. An attempt is like a half-assed try"

A quote from his father right there.

Harper continued, "I'm not about to throw away my life on the slim chance that it'll prevent something that apparently is bound to happen anyways. I would much rather, on the other hand, use the remaining time we have before the cyclowhatevers invade Earth, which sounded like a decent amount of time to me, to build up on some ammo and home defense to prepare against them. Oh, and also to spend some quality time with the one person I actually want to protect, who I have a date with in two hours for ice cream, so if you'll excuse me, I will be off."

With that, he turned around and resumed walking towards the blue portal. "Besides!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands, "How do we know this isn't just some elaborate stage performance? We're in New York City! That Cyclowhats it was probably just a man in a costume, or an animatronic!"

Black blood began to burble from the wound, gushing and spurting from the incision, decorating the grass beneath its feet and, unfortunately, Dorian as well. He winced, shutting one eye as the black ooze sprayed onto his face, but dug the blade further in, twisting it once more for good measure because the dry-cleaning bills were going to be awful, but a few extra dollars spend on laundry were preferable to death. Then the most remarkable thing happened, and, for the first time since this unfortunate adventure had started, remarkable was actually the appropriate word. He could hear it, an audible sort of crackle as the monster began to harden before his very eyes before shattering, onyx shards flying everywhere leaving Dorian standing where he was, panting, painted with blood, knife still posed where it had been before the creature had promptly exploded.

This was too unreal. This was insane. He'd just- there had just been… A monster had dragged itself out from a hole in the earth underneath a tree, run rampant in Central Park, and Dorian had just killed it. Probably. He'd just… He'd just killed something, something unearthly, violent, and over eight feet tall. His hands shook, but he stood frozen, dazed, unable to move for just a moment. That is before a white handkerchief was thrust in front of his face, breaking the spell as he whirled around. No, it as just that boy from earlier offering up the cloth in combination with a muttered apology. To be honest, Dorian didn't hear most of it, the apparent apology muffled by the sound of his heart beat still thundering in his chest.

"I…It's fine," He finally choked out, taking the handkerchief with a trembling hand and pressing it against his nose, wiping slightly and doing more harm than good as he smeared the two colors of blood together before tilting his head backwards, closing his eyes with a deep, shuttering breath. So he didn't see his beloved New York City skyline begin to vanish, erased by a disturbing blankness blanketing the city, muffling for a time every one of the senses. When he did finally open his eyes, to his horror it was to the last of the trees disappearing, the grass beneath his feet not far behind. The bracelet on his wrist was throbbing now, but not terribly uncomfortably, and he clung to the sensation as the world apparently ended around him, erasing it or possibly him from existence. It was dark now. He couldn't see his hand in front of his face, even the one still clutching the now stained handkerchief. Just… nothingness until a brief glimmer of light appeared on the the horizon and slowly, slowly sensation came back. There were lights beneath his feet, fashioned like stars in the heavens above- or perhaps they were stars, he couldn't tell- and the sound of flapping wings, the gentle cooing of birds flying overhead, towards two swirling vortexes, just now making their presences known. And then, there was a voice.

It wasn't just any voice, it was a precise, beautiful voice, tone equal parts soothing and authoritative. And it didn't stop there- that magnificent voice was spinning a magnificent tale more fit for a best-selling fiction novel than the reality he existed in. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, there was silence, the star path dimming visibly leaving all twelve with a choice. Some didn't take long at all to make up their minds, wandering through the portal into the unknown or, as Dorian began to realize in the case of the girl from the tree, into the only world she knew. Others made uncertain declarations then and there, some heroic like the Southern boy, and others less so, like the dripping wet local demanding answers that Dorian was certain would never come. And then it was like all progress was frozen. Even those who had said they were going were still loitering around, either hesitant to go alone or too nervous that someone would stay behind. If it were the second case, they had a right to worry.

Even after one of the girl's- the one who'd checked on the girl in the tree(and, really, he wished that he knew their names to make all of this much more simple)- impassioned protest, no one seemed too convinced. There was that New York boy's attempt to force rationality on a very irrational situation, another girl- the one he'd saved- expressing her doubts that this was even real. All of their voices were breaking the silence at once, swirling together in whines and declarations and Dorian, who had just killed a monster with only a pocket knife, had a possibly broken nose that was still gentle trickling blood and hurt like Hell, and who had had a very bad day even before this whole disaster, had enough.

"You want to know if this is real?" His voice echoed in the otherworldly cavern, something halfway between a sneer and a frown frozen on his face. "See this blood on my face? On my hands? On this knife?" He was illuminated in the cold starlight, black blood evident as it stained his features and body alongside his own violent red, holding his pocketknife up for all to see. "I killed that- that thing back there, stabbed it between the ribs, felt this blade go through its scales as it screamed, was sprayed with black blood, and felt it disintegrate beneath my hands into little shards, so I think I would know if it was fucking real." His bracelet was throbbing now to match his elevated heartbeat, warm upon his wrist.

"I don't give two shits about the rest of you, but this is an all or nothing deal, and if you're too much of a coward to try to save your own planet, to save the people that you want to protect, that's your own problem, don't make it mine. This is the deal; we go through that portal and try to stop whatever the Hell is happening before it happens on our planet and puts everyone at risk, or someone goes home because they're too scared to even try and you've fucked two planets over, your loved ones included. I'm sure none of you want that on your conscience, and it's sure as Hell not going on mine." Not once did his voice crack, keeping his tone at somewhere between a cold monotone and a harsh whisper as if too afraid to speak loudly in the Core.

"And if it's a hoax, and I highly doubt that any of you believe that right now, what have you got to lose? Your dignity? If that's the case, then any dignity that you had is long gone by now. I refuse to let any cowards get my family or me killed when we could have done something to prevent it."

There was silence for a moment before Dorian spoke again, an aching tiredness in his voice. "Look, I just had to murder a giant monster with a pocket knife. Just go through the damn portal."

Harper ignored the guy, continuing to walk up to the blue portal, hands in pockets and mentaling "lalalaican'thearyou"-ing.

But when the guy started telling everyone what to do, then Harper finally stopped. And not out of obedience.

If Harper had been irritated before, which he was, now he was supremely pissed off. And on the verge of anger. "Listen, you," Harper snapped, marching over to the taller boy, "I don't give "two shits" about being called a coward or scared. Or about any stains on my conscience. Or about "dignity". But I do give A LOT OF SHITS about being told what to do! Especially by some snotty, twiggy, kid who only happens to be taller than me through genetics. There is no deal, Capische? I would much rather spend whatever remaining time we have with my sister and making plans for our survival with ample time and no immediate risk of dying than wasting it on some futile "attempt" to stop something that'll probably kill us two seconds into that portal."

He took a breath.

"As for it not being a hoax," he continued with the same amount of pissed-off, "You ever seen a movie, son? Ever been to a play with gore and violence? If it was an animatronic they could have easily filled it with fake blood that evaporates or disintegrates quickly. Or maybe you were just tripping balls. EITHER WAY, I don't give a damn what you think or what you think you can tell me to do. I am NOT going, this is stupid, it's suicide, it's fake, and you need to f***ing deal with it!"