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Drake Coleman

"Are you kidding me? I have more important things to be doing right now... Like fighting a WAR."

0 · 450 views · located in The Rend

a character in “The Rend”, as played by Hyro

Description

Image

Full Name: Drake Levi Coleman

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Species: Gifted Human

Gifts: Energy Manipulation, Dragon-Themed Powers, Mystery Power(To be revealed).

Original Canon: Drake lives in a world where gifted humans are the norm. They aren't superheroes or mutants or anything of the like. There are normal humans, but most had been wiped out due to an early historical war in which the Gifted took over. A couple still exist, but to Drake, they have always seemed very foreign and primal. His story takes place during a second and much larger war between two rivaling factions, Liberty and Erubesco. Both are corrupt and neither ideal, so Drake has found shelter in the wastelands between the factions, rebelling against both in a resistance group he helped form called the Wanderers. It is a constant struggle in the wastelands, but Drake has come to find the Wanderer group as his family and home.

Description: Drake is a tall and lank figure, ranging around 6ft. Most of his muscle resides on his upper back, right around his wings, making him an avid flier. The rest of the boy's lack of strength he makes up in being quick and evasive.

Drake can regularly be seen wearing a white tank top and his signature sleeveless leather jacket. He never takes it off, as it has become a form of constant. Something that stays the same while everything around him is changing. Other parts of his apparel include black jeans, a pair of black and white sneaks, fingerless motor gloves, and a chain necklace. The necklace is adorned with a sentimental jewel at the bottom, shaped like a dragon tooth but made of some kind of crystal.

Personality: Though sometimes reclusive, Drake has definitely taken to the role of peacekeeper back in his home canon among the Wanderers. His younger brother Kyle left a big impression on him after his death; The boy is seen constantly breaking up fights and consoling those around him. Caring more about the well-being of others than himself, Drake has done his best to keep the Wanderers from falling apart. Every so often, however, his temper gets in the way. The boy has a number of anger management issues which are linked to his Dragonic powers, so his rage will occasionally show its face and mess things up. He does his best to stay calm, however, in whatever way he can.

With strangers, the boy is hesitant and distrusting. He often comes off cold at first, perhaps to show that he isn't a force to be reckoned with. He still struggles with social skills on occasion and typically stays quiet to avoid conflict.

Skills: Drake has a number of skill sets, though none of them are ideal around the kind of people he's up against. Street smart is the best way to describe Drake. Without any real intimate education, the boy lacks any advantage on the intellectual spectrum. However, his potential for schooling is likely far above average. He's a great strategist when given the chance, as well as an excellent stealth asset. He is also very intuitive.

His energy powers give him the ability to sense those around him. He will usually know if someone new is coming around the bend. It is very hard to sneak up on him.

Weaknesses: While the boy is immune to heat, he is extremely susceptible to water and cold. What would take an hour for one character to get frostbite may take the boy a mere five to ten minutes.
Loved ones are also an Achilles heel. He is very likely to sacrifice himself if it means saving someone he cares about. The same goes for children, especially those around the same age as Kyle. 5-9 year olds, typically.

Brief History: Drake's mother, Charity Coleman, and father, Sebastian Coleman, were both two of the original chairmen in Erubesco. Both were highly regarded while they were alive. Sebastian, however, had a heavy drinking problem which developed early on. With Sebastian being an abusive drunk, Drake often got the short end of the stick. He stayed strong through it all, even focusing on keeping Kyle, his little brother, safe.

Kyle, fed up with all the fighting between factions, had joined Liberty in an attempt to bring the two together. It didn't end well, and the younger brother was killed during a public speech by an explosion, which was blamed on each opposing faction. Charity committed suicide after discovering Kyle's death. Sebastian, however, decided to take it out on Drake first, before joining his wife in the afterlife.

After receiving this news in a less than pleasant demeanor, Drake set off on his own, making the decision to shy from both factions. Having discovered the corruption on both ends, he started the Wanderers with Dawn and Rick. As a tribute to his little brother, he vowed to end the war between the factions once and for all.

So begins...

Drake Coleman's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adira Hasidare Character Portrait: Ezenvare Queem Character Portrait: Xinder Ouquid Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Khojin Malqir Character Portrait: Oliver Valentine Character Portrait: John gray Character Portrait: Madison Lovette Character Portrait: Drake Coleman Character Portrait: Ashial Grim
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Stride had long gotten used to waking up on floors. She had learned shortly after becoming a member of SCION that it was part of the job description, as was the occasional broken bone, poisoning, voodoo mind control, and nice coats of blood on your clothes- whether yours or someone else’s, it really didn’t matter much at the end of the day.

Waking up in the center of an arena underneath the blistering sun, however? Well, it was certainly new, although Stride would be lying if she said she was particularly pleased about this turn of events.

Groaning, the hybrid attempted to lift herself off the ground, only to slip on the polished tile beneath and collapse back onto the floor. A long string of curses left her lips not long after, particularly some choice words on how the brightly colored mosaic was a “fucking motherfucking son of a bitch”, and a thoughtful contemplation on “what the hell is this shit”. After a few moments, Stride once again attempted to lift herself, and successfully managed to pull herself into a sitting position. She merely sat there for a few moments, taking a moment to ascertain that her goggles and mask were indeed affixed to her face before suddenly grabbing her head in both hands, hissing under her breath. Her head was killing her…

It didn’t take long for her to recall what had happened in the darkness some time before, and less time to bring to mind what Mr. “Let me just kidnap you then give a half-assed explanation of what’s going on” had said specifically. “They”- almost unconsciously, Stride’s gaze swept the arena floor, taking in the various figure laid out neatly on the ground around her- were all stuck in “his world”...In another time, she may have rejected the notion of this being reality. Clung to a belief of her merely having some trippy, drug-induced dream in the middle of the medical ward. However, it took little more than sinking her own fangs into the soft stuff of her palm to brush away the thought, and send her assessing her surroundings once more. After all, when one worked with the monsters that went bump in the night, one tended to have a more open mind about things.

And open minds were the key to survival in these kinds of situations.

While Stride had not given too careful a look at her surroundings during her first rounds, it took only a few more to realize some...details she had missed. Essential details, most likely, but it was better late noticing these things than never, she supposed.

One, there were several duffle bags scattered about the arena, one of which being a dark green thing placed before her little “area”. Atop the rich material read a small slip of paper reading “To Stride”.

Second, quite a few of the others sharing the space with her didn’t appear to be exactly human; she could easily spot a few tails on some from here, wings there, and even some that resembled creatures from the zoo over any humanoid she had ever come across.

Third, lying close by was a very familiar vampire, curled on his side with knees tucked into his chest. Above him was a fairly large umbrella, and, as Stride had expected, another duffle bag bearing his name had been placed a few feet before him, too. While he wasn’t the prime choice of coworkers that could have been dragged in along with her, he was still better than others, and, even then, she couldn’t exactly leave him there. Rising to her feet- and momentarily stumbling as the blood flow returned to her legs- Stride slung her own duffle bag over her shoulder and took the few steps to reach her coworker.

After moving into the shade offered by the umbrella, the fighter lowered herself to the ground, letting the bag fall to the side as she assessed the other. Out cold, just like she was...Not knowing the exact protocol of waking up a sleeping vampire, Stride reached out and began to shake his shoulders, giving a slight grumble upon seeing no immediate effect.

“Hey, Mad, rise n’ shine. Time for beauty rest or whatever’s up already, yeah? Get up.” More shaking, eliciting a soft muttering from Lovette. Spurred on by having at least some response, Stride continued to push him back and forth, eventually rolling him onto his back with a bit of a harder shove than intended. However, it did the job, and soon enough black eyes had fluttered open to peer up at her.

“Well,” Madison began, pushing himself up with ease (something that caused a twinge of annoyance in Stride) and glancing about. “I suppose that we’re not at the base anymore, then?”

“The fuck do you think?” The half-breed drawled in response.

Before they could speak at further length, the researcher of the two suddenly perked up, rapidly turning his head to glance about before settling on no one in particular.

The others would be joining them soon, it seemed.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adira Hasidare Character Portrait: Ezenvare Queem Character Portrait: Xinder Ouquid Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: John gray Character Portrait: Madison Lovette Character Portrait: Drake Coleman Character Portrait: Ashial Grim
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Adira Hasidare


Darkness. She remembered darkness and... a voice. The voice had greeted her- no, a group she was a part of though she'd not actually seen anyone. She'd not seen anything. There'd just been darkness, and a voice. Adira felt that perhaps she ought to be angry or confused. Where was she? What did the voice mean when it said 'taken'? But she couldn't even feel her own limbs in that unravelling darkness, much less anger. Although she was able to feel alarm. She wasn't in her world but in a world called The Rend? What insanity was this voice saying? Unable to speak, Adira could only listen in horror as the voice bid them all farewell and she suddenly felt herself falling.

It was from darkness Adira finally awoke. She was laying on her stomach, her face pressed against the sandy ground of what seemed to be an arena. As her eyes took in the landscape, her mind began racing. Where was she? Had she been taken hostage? The last thing she could recall, before the darkness and the voice, was walking beside Fell in search of shelter for the night. As Fell came to mind Adira sat up suddenly, alarmed. Her head was throbbing in protest, but she ignored this pain. "Fell?" Her question was answered by a puff of air on the back of her neck and she looked up from her sitting-up position to see her faithful companion standing over her protectively. She was still wearing all of her riding armor, except for her helmet which seemed to have fallen off when she collapsed (though she quickly picked it up again, holding it under one arm). He made a soft, crooning sound and nudged her shoulder, drawing a smile from her as she reached up to stroke his muzzle. "I'm alright. Are you?" Fell huffed again reassuringly, then looked up from where she lay to just beyond her and growled softly.

Adira looked up in the direction he was growling and first saw that there was a large bag with her name - Adira - embroidered on it. The second thing she noticed was that she was not alone; there were a handful of others either standing or laying in the sands a short distance from her. Was this some kind of gladiator's arena? Was she to fight these people? Narrowing her eyes she got to her feet, one hand on Fell's side while her other hand moved to grasp Stenr-Jierda's hilt.

Adira's eyes went wide. The sword was gone! Frantically checking her pouch and belt she found that all of her weapons were missing! Turning to Fell she patting his saddle bags and felt nothing. Everything was gone; her bow, arrows, throwing knives... The only thing that seemed to have been left by the thief was the armor she worn. Fell crooned softly, also confused and somewhat uneasy, but she stroked his side comfortingly. "It's okay bud, it's not your fault. Somehow someone managed to sneak all of our supplies out, probably while we were in that accursed darkness." Turning to the others Adira tried to figure out what she could use to defend herself, however the others who'd just awoken seemed as confused as she was. As her eyes traveled from form to form, she took notes of all of her fellow captives / possible opponents. There were many.

Her attention first went to the two figures who seemed to be awake. They where the most normal looking by comparison (but that was a stretch). There was a woman whose hair was as white as snow who gently shook the shoulders of the second figure who was laying under an umbrella. Though Adira could not immediately tell the gender of the second figure, Fell indicated that it was male - and that he smelled of death. Not of murder, but of death itself. The two spoke to each other for a moment before looking up at the rest of the strange looking forms that were starting to stir, and Adira did the same.

The first one she noticed was a woman with large black wings and the second was a man, also with wings (those these were more similar to those of bats). Both of these wings people were still laying upon the ground, unconscious.

The one who'd she'd been laying nearest to (before Fell, judging by the marks in the sand, had dragged her a short distance away from them all) was a creature that Adira would not call human for, though it stood upright and walked with a staff, it appeared to be a strange hybrid between a dragon and a man. He picked up his own bag and walked over to the other two conscious, uh, people.

While wondering how this was possible, her attention was drawn away by another inhuman figure. This one was more distinctly man but... he did not have flesh? His face seemed to be of flesh, in place of flesh for his body he seemed to have metals and light flowing through him. She did not understand, and this made her feel rather uneasy - what kind of thing was this? What magic allowed him to live and move without flesh? There was another who looked similar to the metal-man, but Adira could see that he was merely wearing the metal armor rather than the other way around.

The last unconscious figures lay somewhat close to each other. One of them was dressed entirely in black, and upon his head seemed to be the white polished skull of a wolf or some kind of canine. The other had magenta hair and small black horns as well as gray skin (though she appeared to be perfectly healthy), and Adira could see that not only were her eyes yellow but her teeth were sharpened. This one reminded her keenly of the savage orc tribes that lives in the mountains, however her skin had scales as well as a tail with a pointed tip.

Looking between them all, and then at the bag with her name on it, she had this sense of unease. A warrior never admitted fear, but one would be more a fool than a warrior if they claimed to be totally without it. As much as Adira loathed to admit it, she appeared to be outnumbered and outmatched. How could she hope to compare to a orc/demon, some kind of metal-magic-man, an second metal-man (minus the magic), a dragon/human hybrid, an undead, skull-face, a white-woman and two winged foes? Still, if there wasn't a battle planned, she'd rather not start one. Fell seemed to be in agreement, walking close behind Adira while keeping his head low to the ground in a non-threatening position (similarly to how a canine might), and they both moved slowly moved towards Adira's designated bag which rested beside herself and the small group of conscious humanoids.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adira Hasidare Character Portrait: Ezenvare Queem Character Portrait: Drake Coleman
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#, as written by Hyro
Darkness. A lack of feeling. Nothingness. A voice. All of this was familiar and haunting, as it was very reminiscent of a dark hell the boy had once been put in by a certain Viceroy Balthazar. It was alarming. How had Balthazar gotten to them? To the Wanderers? And then a voice, albeit completely unfamiliar, spoke awkwardly. It didn’t make much sense, to be honest. Just a bunch of rambling, something about being taken… Erubesco, most likely. He had been captured. Drake needed to get out before things got any worse, but he wouldn’t get the chance to act on that thought, as he was out like a light within seconds.

When he woke up, his whole body ached. A groan escaped him, then slowly his silver eyes opened, eyelids fluttering a little, pupils piercing as always. He gazed at the floor beneath him, taking it in, puzzle piecing it together in order to gather that it was in fact a floor. A floor…

The boy quickly moved to sit up, perhaps a bit too quickly, as this action was immediately followed by a throbbing head which he moved to support tightly in his gloved leather hands. “Ugh… The hell… Am I?” the boy moaned, lifting his head and allowing a moment for his vision to refocus. The first thing he spotted was a duffle bag with his name. Odd.

From a quick sweep of his powers, Drake sensed multiple auras scattered about this… arena? That seemed about right. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew he didn’t like it. None of the energy auras were familiar. Not a single one.

He went over to the duffle bag, keeping a close watch on the energies of those around him and picked it up. Somehow he didn’t trust it at first. After all, how could he? He didn’t even know where he was.

Where he was…

The boy took this moment finally to look around. The first thing his eyes quickly fell over was Eze, the half dragon anthropomorphic, startling him and causing him to drop his bag. “Holy shit!” The boy froze, trying to decipher what he was looking at. After a moment, his eyes gazed from person to person, seeing many other oddities, including…


A dragon.
There was a dragon.
A real, live dragon.
It was breathing, it was moving, it was responding.
It was a fucking dragon.

....This was insane.

“What the actual fuck…” the gifted boy muttered to himself, eyes glancing around to try and take this all in. This is nuts. I’m dreaming. He had to be. There was no other way. A pinch would easily do the trick. And that’s exactly what he did, fingers to skin, which was met with a quiet, “Ow,” followed by a slowly dawning expression of confusion.

Swallowing hard, the boy carefully knelt down to inspect the duffle bag, opting to postpone interaction with the others for the time being. Unzipping it, he took a look inside. Maybe there were clues as to what was going on. Where he was.

The Rend, his memory recalled, causing him to blink a couple times in concentration, I can’t believe this, but… I don’t think I’m in my world anymore.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adira Hasidare Character Portrait: Ezenvare Queem Character Portrait: Xinder Ouquid Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Oliver Valentine Character Portrait: John gray Character Portrait: Madison Lovette Character Portrait: Drake Coleman
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While her coworker was more concerned about making allies, Stride had other things on her mind; namely, the fact that at least one of the others was currently armed, and a few others looked a bit too...jumpy for her tastes. Of course, the fighter enjoyed socializing as much as the next person, but when you were surrounding by a mish-mash of people who could very well be trigger-happy, precautions seemed a bit necessary before you sat down and went drinking with your newfound pals.

After brushing her hands against her holsters in what was- hopefully- a casual manner, the woman gave a small scowl upon feeling them empty before pulling her bag into her lap. With any luck, this wouldn’t be like some cheesy chick flick, where it would be empty because “she had found everything she had needed after all!”, or even contain a scrap of paper leading her on a quest to throw the One Ring into lava or some shit like that- and, as luck would have it, the bag did none of those. Instead, Stride was pleased to find her gas mask at the very top of the pile within, which only encouraged her to go deeper.

Beneath the thick material lay several other goods, much to her delight- the first of which being her faithful submachine guns. After ascertaining no one was giving her the stink eye over what she was doing, Stride carefully checked to see if both were loaded before slipping them into their places at her hip. The next item was a basic pair of headphones and an IPod, heating packs, and, even further in, several changes of her clothes- as well as various items from her bathroom.

Alright, whoever this “voice” was, one thing was for certain; he was one creepy motherfucker.

Thankfully, that was the end of the personal items, by the looks of it. As Stride searched the various pockets and crannies of the duffel bag, there was little more left than general basics. Some food packs, water containers, a few knives, a toolkit. In one of the pockets, the hybrid even found basic supplies for cleaning weapons, as well as an undeterminable amount of silver bullets. She picked one from the pile and rolled it between finger and thumb for a few moments, feeling its shape, before letting it drop and closing the bag for the time being. Now that she had properly armed herself, Stride could relax for the time being.

Idly, she looked up, not expecting to see much- only to immediately proved wrong upon seeing a small group already gathered about. Before she gave any recognition of properly seeing them, Stride peered at the trio from behind her goggles, taking them in with an increasing bafflement. All gathered together, they appeared like the punchline to some crappy bar joke. So, Godzilla, the Terminator, and a cultist walk into a bar… Nevertheless, she wasn’t looking to end up getting hacked into tiny fighter bits at the moment, so she did well to hold her tongue; instead looking past the trio for the moment.

Beyond them, it seemed that the cast got even stranger. Several people were already about, and already Stride was feeling a lot more happy about her decision to arm herself; one was already strutting about with a gun like he was doing some sort of video game deal, one kid was visibly flipping his shit over a...whatever the hell that was, and...well, it wasn’t exactly Party Central, to say the very least. Returning her attention to those closest at the moment, Stride rose to her feet, taking a moment to dust off her jacket before squinting at one of the more “friendly” people around.

“Do ya get called Robocop ‘round your parts, too?” She spoke in little more with a drawl, accentuated with what was undeniably some sort of accent- weathered over the years into something new, something hardly distinguishable, but an accent nonetheless. “Or is that somethin’ your friends call ya.” While Madison was trying for a more pacifistic approach by the sound of things, Stride was simply going about in her usual fashion. Granted, it wasn’t exactly the best approach, but an approach to things nonetheless.

A brush of a lock of silver, clearing it away from her goggles for the time being. “Name’s Stride. Guessin’ ya don’t know where the hell we are, either, yeah?” Then, upon noticing the rather obvious panic of one of the close by strangers, added, “Hey, eh, Masky, ya need a lil’ help gettin’ under, there?” Unlike the man, the gorgon was rather enjoying the feel of the heat about her, reaching her through layers of fabric and leather. It warmed her blood, planting energy within her that only added to her current confidence.

One of the double-edged swords of the whole snakey-deal, really.

And speaking of which…

Her eye once again flickered back to the large, reptilian...person-man-thing. She didn’t have much to say to him that Mad hadn’t said, really, but she examined him for a few moments anyway. Briefly, Stride wondered whether Mr. Hiss could breathe fire, before pushing that thought aside for the time being. Of course, while it would be badass, it wasn’t exactly something she wanted to see at the time being.

Maybe later, though.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oliver Valentine Character Portrait: Drake Coleman
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#, as written by Hyro
Drake’s wings ruffled uncomfortably as he continued to search through his bag. So far he had found a dagger, one that looked awfully familiar. A pause in his search as he reached to his back, realizing that it WAS in fact his dagger…

Which he quickly relocated to where it belonged.

A man yelping and complaining was the only thing that seemed to distract him as he looked up curiously. Too hot? Drake took this moment to gaze up at the sky. Perhaps it was hot. He certainly did feel rejuvenated, though the boy couldn’t help but notice that this masked fellow was the only one concerned with the temperature. Perhaps he didn’t fair well in heat.

Drake shook off the thought and focused back on not being noticed. Occasionally the boy eyed the others there, but he didn’t appear to have any intention of approaching them. Rather, he was keeping his distance, occupying himself with his duffle bag.

No, he didn’t trust these people. He had no reason to. They appeared to all be armed after all. He was no match for guns, being the stealth asset that he was. Better to avoid them for now, he figured, lest he get shot.
Somehow he doubted that would last long though.

Let’s see, medical supplies, some tools, food… All of this was reminiscent of the kind of things the Wanderers would keep around, supplies they had gathered. He was plenty familiar with the pattern of supplies.

These were the essentials for survival.

Now that was not a good sign. Zipping his duffle bag closed, the boy went to maneuver it around his shoulder as best he could. He was having some difficulty with his wings at first, the bag getting in the way and causing him to maneuver about, before shifting the strap over his head and positioning the bag itself at his side. How uncomfortable.

Casting one last glance over the people there to make sure he wasn’t in any immediate danger, the boy took a look at the sky again. Maybe he could fly out of here when no one was looking...

It was certainly worth a shot.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adira Hasidare Character Portrait: Ezenvare Queem Character Portrait: Xinder Ouquid Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Khojin Malqir Character Portrait: Oliver Valentine Character Portrait: John gray Character Portrait: Madison Lovette Character Portrait: Drake Coleman
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Xinder Ouquid


Xin continued his circle, closing in on what he had yet to determine whether it was tools or prey. Relaxing slightly, the rifle moved from a near readied state to about half-way down his chest, still pointed somewhat forward. It didn't take long for most of the dangerous looking ones to group together, which would make Xin's life much easier if they tried anything.

There were two ladies that he spotted right away, one nearly unarmed with only an umbrella while the other seemed to be readying some kind of weapons. Pistols most likely, but even pistols could do damage with as close as Xin was likely to get. Gotta kill the masked one first.

Then the dragon looking man. Likely a custom made body like some of the more paranoid folk would have made for them. What Xin could tell from the outside looked like it wasn't built for strength, but nimbility. All the right muscles where toned to suggest quite the wide range of movement as well as a high foot speed. Still, the claws didn't look like something that Xin would want to risk his neck around. I think I should take him out from a range. Maybe while he sleeps if he proves to get in the way.

The dancing man who ran over to the rest of the group with little more than a mask on looked as if he would be easy prey, provided that he would get in the way. The man after him, some kind of cyborg, was a much different story. As Xin got closer he could hear the mention of the word armory, which was usually not a good sign with someone of that level of technology. It didn't look quite as advanced as Xin's underwear, but still dangerous. If something goes wrong, got to let him wear himself down before finishing.

With another quick look around Xin spotted another dragon man, but not quite as dragon as the other one. And this one had wings. A quick look at his expression told Xin that he was planning something, but the wings and direction he was facing suggested that this something had to do with flying. He could be a problem, but doesn't seemed well armed. Hope he stays that way.

Finally his vision landed upon two women and what looked like some kind of lizard dog, probably some gene-modded mutt. The one wasn't anything impressive, but she did have what seemed to be a reliable armament. Pet then owner. As quickly as possible. The other girl was another of those custom body freaks, or maybe some kind of specialized combat body. Either way, she waved around one hell of a sword like it was nothing, which definitely meant something. Got to be careful to stay away from this one.

At the end of it all, Xin felt good about his odds. He obviously outclassed any tech they had, but if they weren't too eager to try to kill him, most seemed like very good cannon fodder. He just had to be careful that none of them came to become reliant on him. When satisfied with his 'recon,' Xin settled in a spot in the group where he could clearly see each member. Standing silently, Xin looked from side to side with his rifle down enough to show he wasn't ready to attack, but high enough that he could kill all of them in a second's notice.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Adira Hasidare Character Portrait: Khojin Malqir Character Portrait: Drake Coleman
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Adira Hasidare

Adira tensed as Khojin suggested that this was an afterlife. No, that was not on option. She would not accept it. As Khojin started digging around in her bag Adira patted Fell's side as he crooned worriedly. "We're not dead, bud. We'll get back to our own world and finished what we started, together. I promise." she murmured comfortingly, and he nuzzled her hand. Adira turned her attention back to Khojin who was digging her her bag on the ground.

"As lovely as the floor is, I doubt we could stay here long, no matter where 'here' is. Don't suppose we'll find a pawn shop nearby?" she said, then held up a strange looking object. It bore a resemblance to uncooked dough. "Want this?" Adira shook her head with distaste. Everyone must have different items in each of their bags; whatever had been taken from them plus some extra. Speaking of the others...

Adira looked in the direction of the others when something caught her eye. It was the bat-winged male, glazing longingly at the sky. His wings were twitching and she could tell he was debating trying to fly away. However as she turned her eyes upwards she would see what seemed to be thin wires, like glass, covering the top of the stadium. Adira realized with some horror that she'd seen something similar to this; King Nazar used these nets to capture dragons for it was sharp enough to slide in between their scales if they attempted to struggle. If he attempted to fly through it, he'd be sliced apart like a filleted fish! "Hey, wait!" before she could stop herself she'd called out to the guy, "Don't fly up there! Don't you see the net? If you try to escape to the sky you'll be cut apart by those razor sharp threads!"

Why she was concerned about his safety was unclear. If he was an opponent, she ought to let him get himself killed. But if he was innocent like she was, just another person stolen from where he belonged, then it would be wrong to just left him die. And after all, she'd much rather avoid blood and sliced flesh raining from the sky if she could.

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Character Portrait: Adira Hasidare Character Portrait: Ezenvare Queem Character Portrait: Xinder Ouquid Character Portrait: Khojin Malqir Character Portrait: Drake Coleman
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Khojin shrugged, tossing the hardtack back into the duffle bag. Maybe it could serve in an emergency. She put what she was keeping back into the duffle bag and closed it, moving to toss it back over her shoulder when she was interrupted by Adira shouting. She snapped her head around to see what the Shao was referring to, catching sight of one of the winged Shaos about to take flight.

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She jolted to her feet, unsure why. Her new ally seemed to care, so she figured that was reason enough. She peered skyward, looking for the net she had warned about; sure enough, she managed to glimpse a section of metal wire glint in the sunlight. She bent her knees slightly, prepared to jump if he took off; if she was fast enough, she might be able to catch him mid-ascent.

In the meantime, her eyes shot around the arena, looking for someone or something that might serve to aid this cause. Her eyes settled on the warforged; the other winged Shao occurred as an option, but she wasn't going to risk discovering she was a slow flyer - or worse, that her feathered wings were only for show. As for the warforged... She'd seen Paladin-class warforged in her world fire stunning electrical blasts to incapacitate potential threats. This one might be from a different realm, but she was willing to bet he had a similar capability.

"Oi! Warforged!" she shouted, unsure of how to get one to do anything. The ones she'd seen in action had just kind of... responded when necessary. She pointed at the leather-winged boy nonetheless. "The Shao!"

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#, as written by Hyro
Drake had knelt down into position, his wings unfurling in a quick and silent motion, ready to take off when he heard someone calling out to him. He paused to look over, straightening back up, his wings still out. After a moment of consideration, he looked up again, squinting his eyes. Sure enough, she was right. There were, in fact, tiny strands of metal covering the cage. How bothersome…

His wings slowly folded back into resting position as he looked back again now noticing two, soon to be three eyes on him. Shit. So much for staying invisible.

He was admittedly a bit surprised that anyone had bothered to stop him from getting skewered. Drake also came to a realization. He had been in this situation before, alone and in danger. That was when he met people who changed his life, people who cared about his well-being and of which he cared for them in turn. Perhaps…

Perhaps he should try and make some allies.

Taking a breath, the boy meandered his way over to the girl with the overly sized lizard first, opting to go with the one who had stopped him primarily. “Eh, thanks,” he said as he approached, “I think I got a little escape happy… I’m not really fond of cages.” Drake glanced at the dragon-creature out of the side of his eye in hesitance for a moment, not sure how to respond to it. “Um.”

A pause before looking at the girl again. “The name’s Drake,” he offered, “I owe you one.”

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Well, that was pointless. Khojin's ears reddened slightly at the tips, embarrassed by her wasted effort. She cleared her throat quietly, becoming very interested in the painted tiles at her feet. Eager to escape a potentially more humiliating situation, she informed Adira that she'd be back shortly and headed over to the warforged.

She waved slightly as she approached, showing she didn't mean any harm by coming over to him. Was he even capable of responding to her? She still wasn't entirely sure how these things worked.

She crouched in front of him, almost close enough to touch him if she were to extend her arm. She looked him over, tilting her head and bending her torso slightly to see if it was possible to glimpse the inside of his mask through the iridescent green slits.

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Adira Hasidare

Khojin informed Adira that she'd be back shortly and Adira nodded in response as her new ally turned and walked towards the other group who was standing a short distance across the arena. Her own attention turned to the winged guy who had just approached her. “Eh, thanks. I think I got a little escape happy… I’m not really fond of cages, um.” He said awkwardly, his eyes shifting to Fell who cocked his scaly head to the side, curious about the guy's wing. He cleared his throat and looked back at Adira. “The name’s Drake. I owe you one.” Adira smiled in response, reaching over and stroking Fell's snout as he crooned happily. "I'm Adira, and this is Fell, my companion." She dropped her hand and Fell started sniffing at Drake's feet curiously. "You owe me nothing. I don't know how or why we're here but Fell and I intend to escape. If that is also your goal, perhaps if we should work together."

Fell walked slowly around Drake, sniffing his wings curiously. They were very similar to dragon's wings and he was fascinated, however after inspecting the guy he finally walked back to Adira, standing behind her and pushing his head under her hand so that she would pet him. He was nervous about all of this. These new people (or humanoids, or whatevers) were powerful indeed, however he did not detect immediate hostility from either Drake or Khojin thus far, so he'd indicated this to Adira. He figured that if he hadn't indicated that they were not enemies, considering how wary and suspicious as Adira usually behaved towards new people, they would never make any allies.

"Have you any idea how you may have gotten here?" Adira asked Drake, still looking for any clues as to how they could escape.

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Sarah teleported into into the arena looking dased. My power must be on the fritz again. She thought. For it was true the more she used her power the more it wore her out and the less stable her abilities were. At this point she had fritzy teleportation and a weak ability of telekinesis, that and a small knife hidden in her sleeve. She had no idea where she was and somewhat of an idea of how she got here. At the moment there was nobody near her. she noticed a person in some sort of dragon person and and another creature. odd. She went to move and teleported over to them where she appeared about five feet from them tripping to the ground, purple energy surrounded her like a small fog trailing behind her, her violet eyes glowed slightly as was an effect from power displacement. she groaned, got up, then looked at the pair. "hi." she coughed slightly, "What is this place?"

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#, as written by Hyro
Drake hesitated a bit as Fell approached him, his wings twitching at the light breath of Fell’s inspecting nose. While he found the creature to be a bit unfathomable, some part of the boy felt a strange connection with Fell. A spiritual draw toward the reptile, almost as if in another life, they could have been friends or cousins. It was certainly strange. Magical almost…

Could it be he was part dragon? ...No. That was insane. Magic didn’t exist. Dragons didn’t exist. Not where he was from, anyway. And besides, weren’t dragons supposed to have wings? This one sure didn’t.

“If I knew how I’d gotten here, I would have tried to fly out just a moment ago,” he explained calmly, “Though, yes. Escaping is my number one priority, and somehow I doubt I’ll be able to accomplish that on my own. I need to get back to my world, I don’t have time for… whatever this is.” Drake motioned to the arena with his hand. His silver eyes fell on Adira’s companion again. He had the strangest urge to reach out and pet him, but denied the urge altogether.

“Do dragons not have wings where you’re from? … Does he breathe fire?” The boy’s silver eyes peered over the creature with more curiosity than anything. “Dragons only exist in books and fairy tales where I’m from. And they aren’t typically portrayed as friendly, much less companions.”

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Character Portrait: Adira Hasidare Character Portrait: Ezenvare Queem Character Portrait: Xinder Ouquid Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Rasteva Character Portrait: Oliver Valentine Character Portrait: John gray Character Portrait: Madison Lovette Character Portrait: Drake Coleman
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Xinder Ouquid


Xin watched as the freak girl sat down and let he bag come off of her shoulder before looking him up and down. She then said somethings that Xin really couldn't understand, not that he was paying that much attention to what she was say. He had to make sure that he kept a close eye on the rest of the people here. One small slip up and one of them might turn and try to use this arena like an actual arena.

A few more moments and she started with the word 'Warforged' getting back Xin's attention. They sounded like some funny name for a warbot, but when she started talking about 'Shao' Xin could only think of one thing that met that description, given the circumstances. "Shao sounds a lot like a different name for a human. And I can tell you right now that your Za Ri are nothing more than another thing to be crushed beneath the feet of real empires. Ones that span stars." Xin said with some level of arrogance within his voice. This zi ri before him was liably some primitive, like one of the many species of natives that had been crushed beneath his boot.

Then there was some massive shadow suddenly covering the group. Turning to its source, Xin didn't break his stance as he stared at the giant chunk of armor. What the hell is that? Some kind of knock off mech? With a subtle turn and a careful step or two back, Xin was back in a position where he could view the entire group, including the silent tower of armor.

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Adira Hasidare

“If I knew how I’d gotten here, I wouldn't have tried to fly out just a moment ago. Though, yes. Escaping is my number one priority, and somehow I doubt I’ll be able to accomplish that on my own. I need to get back to my world, I don’t have time for… whatever this is.” Drake motioned to the arena with his hand and Adira nodded at this gesture for she had to agree. She and Fell needed to get back to. Drake's eyes shifted to where Fell stood beside her. “Do dragons not have wings where you’re from? … Does he breathe fire? Dragons only exist in books and fairy tales where I’m from. And they aren’t typically portrayed as friendly, much less companions.”

Adira felt herself twitch again, but calmed herself. "Fell is actually a Fanghur," she explained patiently, "They're the smaller cousins to dragons. They usually live isolated in the mountains and are extremely territorial, but my family managed to domesticate a small herd of them and have found that they make excellent companions." She patted Fell's side proudly. "They don't breath fire but eventually they do in fact grow wings, however not until they're fully grown - Fell here is still currently only in his late teens." She could see his hand twitch as if he were growing to touch Fell but restrained himself. Fell, however, was always happy to receive the attention and nudged Drake's hand so that it rested on top of Fell's head, then crooned happily. He'd not gotten this much attention since they'd felt the village. Adira 'tsk'ed at his behavior, but couldn't help the small smile that came to her lips.

Suddenly a figure popped up a few feet from where the three of them stood and Adira jumped. It was a girl with silver hair, wearing black clothing with purple accents. "Hi." she said before coughing, "What is this place?" Adira blinked at her sudden appearance. The girl appeared human, but had she just teleported? Did that mean she was a wizard of some kind? "Uh, well, I don't know exactly. No one does it seems." she said hesitantly, "Who are you?

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#, as written by Rasteva
The Figure continued to stare at the assortment gathered around, taking a bit of humor from the one that seemed nervous of their approach. What interested them more than anything however, was the word "Dragon" being thrown around. Dragons were titanic beasts, and they were for fighting above all else. But here they did not see any Dragons. Surely two small Dragonlike creatures, but not DRAGONS.

This became a sudden point of interest for the armored figure, and as the small humanish thing beside the little Dragon continued to speak, they become even more interested. Even in their many travels, and countless years alive, the figure had yet to come across a tiny Dragon.

So it stood to reason that they desired a closer look at it.

Lumbering to a dead halt behind the small human, the figure moved to one knee, a gauntleted claw reaching out tentatively to prod gently at the little Dragon beast.

"Small. Very small." The figure's voice echoed from beneath their helm, the timbre and pitch too difficult to place a clear gender to. "You say that you raise them? Are they of Fighting Stock?" The armor clad figure tilted it's horned head down to stare at the scaly beast. "Because this looks to be of Laughing Stock to me."

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"Well, you're boring," Khojin said, giving a brief, dismissive sigh. "And that's enough elitism for one day. Good-bye."

She popped to her feet, completely disregarding the large, armored figure attempting to loom over all of them. She hooked her leg through the strap of her duffle bag, lifting it up and grabbing it in her hand before slinging it back over her shoulder. She strolled back over to Adira and the winged Shao boy, giving a small nod of recognition to the metal-encased arrival as she passed; the kind of nod one might give to to a fellow gang member, or someone who served in the same branch of the military.

Adira seemed to have been joined by a different Shao girl at one point. This one had silver hair and a black cloak; Khojin brushed off her own coat absentmindedly, polishing the attached armor sphere with her sleeve. "Making friends, I see. Want this?" She dug quickly through her duffle, procuring the package of dried bread rations.

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#, as written by Hyro
Drake was admittedly a little surprised by the Fanghur’s insistent nudge, but found no trouble in stroking the reptile’s muzzle calmly, comforted by the soft vibrations let off by the creature’s happy crooning. He didn’t seem at all bothered by the size of the creature, and in fact had a natural way about how he treated him. As if he had dealt with Fanghur before, though he certainly had never met one, let alone touched one. Out of everyone here, he felt Fell was the most trustworthy of them all. And perhaps his rider, as well, though mostly Fell. Perhaps he was a bit biased in that sense.

A Fanghur, can’t say I’ve heard of that before... If only Kyle could have been here to see this. He would’ve loved it.

Drake could envision it clearly, his younger brother’s rosy cheeks and wide, green eyes, filled with wonderment and awe. Smiling his adorable, naive smile. It was a somewhat comforting thought.

A thought that was immediately broken when a girl suddenly teleported to them, tumbling onto the ground. She didn’t seem much bothered by the fall, having immediately led into a question, but he couldn’t help but ask, “Are you alright?” The boy quirked an eyebrow at her odd and sporadic behavior, not entirely sure how to interpret it.

At this point, a large armored… thing - at least, that was the only word Drake could attach to it - had approached, moving to inspect Fell. Instinctively, the boy’s silver eyes flashed threateningly in warning and a low growl came out.

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Adira Hasidare

Adira was distracted from the sudden appearance of another metal figure. Adira could see no physical features save for the outline of the armor, however as Fell turned to eye the newcomer and stopped crooning, she was immediately uneasy. It occurred to her that she was now semi-surrounded; Drake with bat or dragon wings, the teleporting girl, and now this armor clad figure. That was all it seemed to be for, judging by Fell's low croaking sound, he did not actually know what it was. It had no scent save for metal and some kind of vile smokey smell.

The armor (for that was all it seemed to be) stopped behind Adira and she turned so she could see it as well as the others, and watched as it knelt down. Slowly a metal hand reached out and poked Fell's hindquarters, making him growl softly in irritation. Adira's eyes narrowed slightly. "Small. Very small." came a voice from inside the helmet, though it did nothing to help identify the species or even the gender of whatever was inside (if there was anything inside). It almost seemed as if this armor were possessed by a spirit, if nothing else. "You say that you raise them? Are they of Fighting Stock? Because this looks to be of Laughing Stock to me." Adira's cheek grew red in indignation. "They are neither," she said with poorly hidden annoyance, watching as Fell moved away from the strange and prodding armor, his tail flicking in mild irritation, "Fanghur are not stock of any kind. They are hunters, protectors and companions. And they are invaluable."

Khojin walked up at this point. "Making friends, I see." she said, and Adira had to resist the urge to scoff. Those were not the exact words she personally would choose to describe the situation. However before Adira could respond, Khojin pulled out what appeared to be hardened bread. "Want this?" she asked, holding it out to Adira whose stomach choose that exact moment to remind her of the fact she'd not eaten within the last 48 hours by growling loudly. "Sure, I guess. Thank you Khojin." she said, taking the bread and trying to rid herself of the soft blush that colored her cheeks.

Adira went to take a bite, then stopped herself, glancing at the others who stood around her before sighing softly and tearing the bread into even sized pieces. "Here." she said, handing one to each of those standing near her, "I don't know why we're here or how we're going to get out, but we'll need to keep up our strength in the meantime." Adira said, not meeting any of their eyes as she torn her piece in half and held one side of it out to Fell, who in turn sniffed it before eating it from her hand in one bit. Fell sniffed her hand for more but she shrugged. "As soon as we get out of here we'll go hunting bud. But for now you'll have to be satisfied with that." Fell seemed to sigh (though it sounded like a combination of a hiss and a squeak), but nuzzled her hand affectionately, indicating his acceptance of this answer.

"Well, perhaps it's time to start looking for a way out then." she said and Fell gave an eager growl before turning around from her and walking away from her, beginning to sniff like a bloodhound, obviously searching for a scent other than what originated from the arena.

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Character Portrait: Adira Hasidare Character Portrait: Ezenvare Queem Character Portrait: Knight Kora Norrevinter Character Portrait: Phoebe Stride Character Portrait: Khojin Malqir Character Portrait: Rasteva Character Portrait: John gray Character Portrait: Madison Lovette Character Portrait: Drake Coleman
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“Eze.” The word rolled neatly off Madison’s tongue, forming into sound, a word, a name. He tested it once again beneath his breath, feeling it out, before smiling once more and nodding at the lizard. “Alright, Eze. It’s good to meet you- although, again, I would have preferred other circumstances, to be honest.” The vampire then extended a hand for a shake, uncertain if the other would understand the gesture, but offering it anyway out of politeness’ sake.

Stride, on the other hand, only gave a brief nod to affirm that she had heard “Eze” give his name, giving her jawline a light scratch as she directed a majority of her focus onto Mr. Robocop (she refused to call him by any other name, as this man was undeniably either Robocop or the Terminator). “So ya don’t know much ‘bout this whole thing, either.” Her voice was little more than a mutter as she continued to eye the man, occasionally switching her attention to over his shoulder in order to ascertain nothing of particular importance was happening. From the looks of it, all that was going on was two girls- one more human, the other...not so much- having themselves a happy little conversation, with the human-one showing off her dragon.

The woman was half-tempted to make a comment about at least taking the chick to dinner first.

Soon enough, however, another one was added to the mix- a male, who the pair shouted at for a while before the little group converged. Satisfied with what she found, Stride glanced back, watching as Robocop helped Godzilla with his duffle bag, as the latter didn’t seem to have any real idea as to how the thing worked, exactly. While this wasn’t exactly the most remarkable thing to look at in the situation, out of the corner of her eye she could easily see Madison nearly bursting at the seams, watching the two interact with obvious intrigue.

And then, the dam overflowed.

“Excuse me, sirs,” he began, absentmindedly rubbing his hands together as if brushing dust from them, “but I couldn’t help but wonder something; where did you come from?” He paused, letting the question hang there for a moment, before continuing. “I don’t mean continent-wise, but rather...well, general...place, you could say? The voice had mentioned us being in ‘another world’, and it’s fairly clear that we weren’t all brought from the same place.” Always looking for information. Even when locked in another “world” by the sounds of things, Madison’s thirst for knowledge lingered. And the way he saw it, there was no reason not to ask; after all, it wasn’t exactly the most confidential topic, given the fact that both a cyborg, some sort of draconic being, and a vampire were all gathered in same place- among various other beings.

Before the pair could answer, however, both SCION members became aware of a shadow looming across the arena. Casting darkness about them, and effectively making the umbrella unnecessary. Stride was the first one to peer over to see what had caused it, and found herself staring right into the face of some armored...thing.

Rather than leap back in shock, or even start unholstering her guns in an attempt to fire at the thing, the hybrid only muttered a “the hell is that” before checking to make sure that her weapons hadn’t somehow been taken from her. Once her fingertips had grazed the metal again, Stride was satisfied, and contented herself to squint at the figure for a while longer before turning back. A walking suit of armor certainly wasn’t the oddest thing to happen today, after all, and she doubted it would be the last. And, at any rate, she had seen several pieces of sentient armor when investigating haunted houses. Better to leave the thing to those it bothered, she mulled. Better to leave it until it tried to make a Happy Meal out of someone’s soul. (Ba-da-da-da-da, it’s lovin’ it~)

Her vampiric companion was just as unfazed- if not just as curious as he was before. Absentmindedly, Madison felt for his pocketbook, only to find the little nooks within his dress to be empty. A shame; while he had no qualms about putting things to memory, it was a strong habit to at least have some solid evidence of what he’d heard.

Maybe there was something for him in his duffle bag. Maybe. He’d have to check later- for now, he was too enthralled by the idea of milking the strangers for evidence of the Multiple Worlds theory. The others at base would have a field day with this kind of research, really.

And speaking of the devil…

A familiar red, flaming plume of hair suddenly flared up in Madison’s line of vision, accompanied by an equally familiar tall figure attached to it, and her accompanying accent and lines of insult. One Kora Norrevinter. Before Madison went and called out to her, however, he became aware of certain...things that didn’t exactly apply to their Kora.

Namely, the lack of werewolf scent anyway on her body, the fact that she was currently cursing out a “Liberty” (while he knew that she did not originate from the Americas, he doubted that she hated them that much), and her current uniform.

The whole, well, spontaneous combustion was also a dead-ringer that things were not exactly right, too.

Stride seemed to recognize the woman equally as fast, although she was not as swift to recognize the differences as Madison. At first, she could only see the redhead as the Kora from base, the one that ended up hosting most of the chugging contests to her knowledge. Needless to say, the hybrid felt a bit pleased that she wasn’t the only fighter to get dragged into things, and was about to call out a jeer when suddenly, that Kora burst into flames.

“The hell?” The word came out admittedly a bit louder than intended, and Stride instinctively took a few steps back in surprise. As far as she was concerned, people didn’t randomly just burst into fucking flames. Before she could react further, Madison had suddenly taken a hold of her arm, giving a light tug and rising to full height. He leaned in just slightly towards the other’s ear, and began to mutter, taking care that those around them couldn’t hear.

“Look. That’s not our Kora; she doesn’t have the right scent. And you don’t see her burning, do you?” Indeed, the woman didn’t seem pained by the whole event- merely very, very pissed. Stride could only watch for another minute as the Norwegian cursed out “algae-eaters” before shaking her head, watching Kora- well, Kora’s doppleganger- with puzzlement.

“Alright,” she grumbled, “this shit is just gettin’ weirder n’ weirder.”

She knew well enough not to run up to the familiar stranger, shouting things like, “Hey! I know you don’t know me or anything, but I’ve known you for ten years in my world. Wanna go grab some beers?” After all, for all they knew, this Kora could be...a lot more different than theirs, to say the least.

They’d have to watch for now, but all Stride could think at the moment was that she had somehow found herself in an episode of “The Twilight Zone”.