Vincent Wilder's Story

Peter grimaces as he hears the noise of a ship, wondering himself how it got... Here, wherever 'here' was. Holding his helmet in one hand, he looks up, at the sky, and contemplates for a couple seconds if he could be dead. In all views, he may be. But he feels... New. Like he hasn't even started living. So he puts on his helmet, looks at this Mitch fellow, and asks him a question.

"Where to next, friend?"

He doesn't know if he should consider Mitch a friend, for the being seems too... Afloat, like he's not anchored to reality. But he's also the first person he met, and Mitch seems friendly enough.

So he decides to trust him.

A shimmering sphere of light suddenly appeared among the fields of Genesis, growing ever brighter as it approached the one called Lisa.

"Not hardly," A voice answered

Peter Sheffield hears someone here. It's not the first time he has. He shifts from his sitting position in the field of wheat, slowly getting up. He removes his helmet and surveys his surroundings. He thinks he sees whoever was talking just now, but he can't tell.

Time clearly isn't linear here, or at least that's what he thinks.

He's seen people arrive and leave for some time now. Most of the time they are lead by beings that don't seem to be the same as human. He doesn't know why.

He waves at the people, if they are people, that he sees a ways away from him, then puts back on his helmet and starts walking.

He's pretty sure it's his time to start his story.

And so a moment passed, and just like all other things to be rooted in this place, they found themselves rooted no longer. Genesis was not a place reserved for, or by, any. It was simply liminal. An endless field of swaying gold, of gentle winds, and of opportunity. All who attempted to claim ownership of the lands that were not and between, clung to a portal- to where their dreams were real. Dreams cannot become dreams in the land of dreams, and those who dwell too far and long are bound to be lost to the wind.

The endless field flickered with the iridescent shadow of a civilization, and then another however different, then a great fortress citadel, and then a strange looking green place, and again a much darker place, before again settling to be the endless field of wheat. That's all this place could ever be.

All of the places that had attempted to root here were instantly known by Juniper Reeves, Darth Arack: The Dark God, Veronica, Lord Dorn, and any others to exist in this place from this moment further (and perhaps even before). Genesis; a start of Multiversal beginnings. Time was strange here, wasn't it.

Eminence loomed in the distance, the only other constant other than the place itself. It wasn't the first thing most travelers noticed. There were so many other realities to explore. A gentle breeze swept through the fields and towards the near-far crag as if to ask, when do you want to where-be when you awaken from this golden dream?

David Baxter wakes up in this vast field of grass. For a couple seconds he is confused, then he slowly gets to his feet and looks around. "What have I gotten into now," he mutters to himself. He looks around, shouldering his carbine and putting his briefcase in hand, then picks a direction and starts walking. Maybe there were other people here, he thinks to himself, and at that thought, he hollers, "Hey and Howdy! Is anybody there?"

Strycker awakens in a field of some sort, from what he can tell. There's some weird brown stuff, as thin as paper, he notices, and reaches out to touch it as he sits up, cross-legged. He puts a hand in the dirt to help steady himself as he rises up from the ground. He pushes his hair out from his eyes, and scans his surroundings. He doesn't say anything, just silently looks around, trying to recognize where he is. It's odd, he doesn't remember ever coming into this field. There seem to be other people around here, but he can't make out their features. He looks around at the ground around him, and recognizes his Yopirr, a large metal staff with a wedge as a blade, a sort of odd, full-metal axe. He picks it up off the dirt, the balance and weight so familiar to his hands he smiles as he lifts it off the ground. He leans it against his shoulder, and gazes off in all directions again, turning slowly. Off to what he thinks is the west, there seems to be a rock face of some sort. He decides to head off in that direction, maybe there was some explanation there.

A soft wind blew through the vast of Genesis.

There were hundreds, if not thousands of newcomers. Yet so few were anywhere near one another. They were all, however, equidistant from Eminence. Isn't it funny how space and time are all a matter of perception?

Where were Daniel Cooker's comrades?

What did The Gray Witch expect to find in Eminence?

Did The Leopard truly escape death?

Who's Nena Yhen?