Travelers (IC)

Goose stretched as he sat down on the seat in the bus, and intruded on the turtle person's conversation, "There's no such thing as a person that's 'bad to the core.' No matter who a person is, there's always at least some good in them." Just as he had said something quite philosophical, he had to ruin it with another comment, "Unless you're a Nogjod, then you're a no good ****-sack ************ with a **** stain for a face. Byauketnoodgjidf as falsehoods say."

Desin chuckled at the irony  Goose's statement, along with the long line of curse words as he came up behind him. However he said nothing, and just took a seat nearby, so he could eavesdrop on the conversation at hand.

Therese's mouth dropped open at the string of foul language, but Zhesta'kai guffawed. "Is that so?" he said. "Well, I ain't got a clue what Nogjod is, or what all that gobbledygook meant, so I suppose I can't be a' passin' judgement on the matter. But as fer the Qulik," he continued, turning serious again, "what I said about em, I said fer a reason. Believe me, I ain't met a good one yet, just cruel slavers, and I says they can't be trusted, and I've got the experience to back that one up."

Goose replied to comment about the Qulik by relating to himself, "My people were slavers at one point. People would randomly appear on the island the same way that we came here. We would force them to tend to our crops and fight our enemies. It's kinda ironic that I'm here today in the same fashion that all the slaves were." He smirked and continued in such a way that sounded like a joke, "Who knows, we might even have the same fate as those trillions of people that died for me."

Zhesta'kai gave a grunt. "Eh, whatever," he said, apparently a little annoyed that he could think of nothing to say. Therese cleared her throat and then looked at Goose.

"So, what about you? What's our story? If you don't mind," she added, politely.

Edward ‘Ed’ Fletcher & Scylla
 
The seating arrangement was awkward, and the whole time Ed had been hoping that he would be able to sit next to another human, like the mage, Lynn, or even the quiet apocalyptic woman with the giant furless rodent, but instead, the person Ed found sitting next to him was the Changeling guy with the strange eyes, Scylla. He supposed this wasn’t too bad, as the other options were the strange menagerie of alien creatures, a sentient suit of armor, or a foul-tempered talking cat. So far, all of the people Ed had seen looked extremely dangerous, and Scylla was probably the safest out of the bunch to be with, but how would he really know? He’d shown up from the same world as Honey, and Scylla was extremely quiet for the most part, and he’d generally not done much more than anxiously pick at loose threads on his clothing. The brief time when he was helping Honey pick up fallen and damaged plants was the most active Ed had seen him, although to be fair, he had a nasty line going down his leg, and it probably hurt.
 
Ed and Scylla’s seat was a third row from the front of the bus, to the left, if one were looking at the main aisle from the back of the vehicle. One row ahead to the right, Honey was seated next to Lynn, where the mage looked slightly uneasy, as though unnerved by the rumbling engine. The seat in front of Ed and Scylla held the apocalypse survivor, who was leaning against the window with a tense posture. The shapeshifter Elysia padded up the aisle and jumped up onto the seat next to her, but Ed couldn’t see her after that, because the seat blocked the cat from his view. If she’d never seen a bus before, though, she must have found it interesting, as she didn’t look particularly anxious.
 
Regarding Scylla, at a distance, Ed had thought he was a bit chubby with rounded features, and perhaps around the same age, but up close, there was just enough chiseling to the jawline for Ed to realize that Scylla was probably older than that, maybe even an adult. Up close, Ed could even make out how, despite at a distance the thicker fabric of Scylla’s hoodie and his extra weight hiding it, there was rippling muscle in his arms and shoulders. Re-evaluating this, Ed would have to say that Scylla’s weight was probably stubborn and didn’t come off easily, because ignoring this, he was very sturdily-built, and definitely not someone that should be underestimated strength-wise. Ed even noted that while Scylla continued to fidget with loose threads or by clasping together his hands, the Changeling’s eyes would carefully watch everything. He was very much aware of the situation; anxiety or not, he wasn’t falling into a complete mess. There was more maturity to the way Scylla was handling the stress of what was happening.
 
Suddenly, Scylla’s eyes flashed bright white, the glow of his pupils expanding outward, and then went dark red, all other details in his eyes vanishing as they became a solid color, almost as if the filament of a light had blown. Scylla clenched his hands into fists, “Stupid eyes,” He muttered, before leaning his head against the back of the seat in front of him.
 
“Something wrong?” Ed asked. He wasn’t really sure how to engage in little conversations like this. He wasn’t genuinely concerned, he didn’t know Scylla that well and it wasn’t easy to muster that kind of emotion, but he might as well feign it. His tone might have carried something resembling warmth, but his face remained expressionless.
 
“Eyes aren’t a natural part of my form. People used to say I was given this body like a disguise, or at least as a means of fitting in better with humans, but because eyes aren’t really a part of…whatever I am…the vision doesn’t translate right. I need glasses to see like this, and sometimes my vision fails and I go completely blind.” Scylla replied. “Sometimes it happens when I stress too much, and on other occasions, I’m completely calm and it occurs regardless of how I feel.” He said, giving a thorough-sounding explanation, surprisingly. Ed had expected him to reply uneasily or timidly, but Scylla was actually very well-spoken.
 
He was silent for a moment, before adding, “Pretty sad, right? Your parents do something to protect you, but while it keeps you safe in some way from one problem, they also wind up crippling you in other ways. Of course, it’s probably better, anyway. I can communicate more easily like this, and nobody’s running away screaming.”
 
“Actually, no, that was a very thorough answer, although I’m curious now what your real form is like, if this isn’t your actual appearance.” Ed replied, green eyes glittering.
 
“No.” Scylla firmly said in response, “Most people stop treating me like another person when I show them my abilities and real form. My current form has enough of an ability on its own. Nobody can sneak up on me.”
 
“Please elaborate what you mean by that,” Ed pressed, wishing Scylla wouldn’t be so difficult.
 
“Nobody can sneak up on me. Just that. Any intelligent being, anything that isn’t a machine, I know when a presence is there. You get within my range, and I’ll know you’re there. If something dies in my range, the presence drops off. If it’s an animal, I don’t see it. But if you’re a person in even the slightest definition of the word, I can see you.”
 
Ed wasn’t sure what Scylla meant by ‘seeing’, when he had just said his eyes would fail and needed glasses to function, but from what he could gather from this cryptic response, it seemed like the Changeling had some sort of sensory ability beyond sight, and was just using it in a figurative manner.
 
“Look, I don’t mean any offense by this, but I don’t know you.” Scylla turned and looked at Edward, his pupils slowly brightening back into existence to illuminate the details of his eyes, “You’re a stranger, and my current answer should be sufficient. Don’t ask me anything else about my powers, because I’m not even going to keep talking to you otherwise. Am I clear on this? I’m a person, just like you, and there are other things I care about.”
 
Ed was a bit stunned for a moment that he’d received an immediate follow-up that sounded like a stern warning from this person. “Alright, then…” Ed began slowly, for a brief moment realizing he might not have such an easy conversation as he had initially thought, “…What do you enjoy, then?” He asked, deciding that this sort of ‘small-talk’, however boring, was probably more meaningful to Scylla than it was to him. He had liked the philosophical nature of word usage mentioned by Dr. Blount, and powers were purely curious, but he supposed that Scylla would consider powers to be a personal, private issue, and not something to be discussed with random people.
 
“I like sewing and crochet,” Scylla said, proceeding to lean his head against the seat in front again, not even bothering looking at Ed anymore, “I make soft, heavy quilts and they hold up really well. I’m a bit hyper-sensitive and I stress easily, but quilting is a therapeutic thing for me, and people like my work…of course, a lot of guys laugh at me over it. Thing is, though, looking like me, I’ve got a bit of a weight issue, and I’m short and I don’t think I can grow facial hair. I think I’d be made fun of, anyway.” He shrugged.
 
“Well, I can sew, also. Mostly upholstery, though.” Ed said in response, “If it’s any consolation, people keep telling me I don’t eat enough. It’s probably not as bad as being made fun of for being too heavy, but it’s pretty irritating when people walk up acting concerned, like I’m starving myself.” He snorted and looked out the window as the bus started up and began to move.
 
Throughout the bus, people who had never ridden a vehicle before were probably panicking, sans one cat that seemed fascinated.
 
“I’m guessing you just have a really fast metabolism?” Scylla asked.
 
“Probably, but the doctor has never said anything negative. If I was sick or unhealthy, she would have said something. I think it has more to deal with the fact that I’m very active, I just burn everything. If I’m not power-walking somewhere, I’m going to fall asleep in some random place because I got bored.”
 
“Falling asleep out of boredom…I suppose not a lot of things interest you, then?” Scylla asked.
 
“Actually, I like a lot of things, but I have to have something to work on. If I don’t work, I sleep.”
 
“Sounds tiring,” Scylla commented, and Edward couldn’t help but crack a faint smile at this. It was a stupid joke, it wasn’t even really that funny by itself, but one couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that someone would try it, as lame as it was.
 
 
Honey & Lynn
 
Honey did not like buses, and there was little to no explanation for why. Perhaps it was the fact that you had to cram into a seat with other people, risking sliding into them when you took a sharp turn. It could also be that she liked the feeling of solid ground beneath her feet, and the faint rumbling of the engine made her feel like something was wrong with her body. It might just be the fact that it was a big, mechanical thing void of plant life, or even that it represented some sort of social area that she could never enter, because nobody would sit next to her, or she would be laughed at. The feeling she had wasn’t one of panic or the issue of traumatic memories of bullying, but there was a gnawing sense of unease and discomfort. The bus was more open, having been designed to hold Travelers with larger bodies, but in the end, it still felt a little claustrophobic, and she still wasn’t sure why.
 
She had wound up sitting next to the mage, because so far, she had never talked to Lynn, and secondly, she already knew Scylla, and Mouse wouldn’t appreciate Honey going as far as to sit next to her. People had limits to how much they would interact with you before you were considered an enemy, so Honey had decided to bug someone else for awhile, because it probably wasn’t good to constantly talk to a single individual person. Her ears flattened a bit as she overheard the conversation from Goose. She knew it was just the way he talked, but swears still bugged her a bit, having always been associated with harsh things. She listened to the brief conversation between her friend and the human, Edward, also. It seemed like body image, somehow, was a topic, as well as basic personality traits that they somehow had in common. They seemed to get along.
 
Meanwhile, Lynn, sitting next to her, looked anxious, both at the bus rumbling and moving along, and at the prospect of having Honey sit next to him. He seemed more alarmed by the machine than by her presence, but when the bus had lurched forward and the front of Valentine’s café began to disappear (It was named ‘Daybreak Café’ as it turned out), Lynn had turned as white as paper. “Are you alright?” Honey asked, and Lynn jumped, trembling slightly as he turned to look at her, “I…have never seen a cart move without something to pull it…” He said, eyes wide. “How? What kind of magic did they use to make this?”
 
“It’s not magic, I can tell you that, and I come from a world where magic exists…sort of.” Honey’s ear twitched as she looked forward at the back of the seat in front of her. Someone had drawn a little smiley face on the pale blue vinyl with permanent marker. Vandals, it seemed, existed even among Travelers. How juvenile. “Buses have something called an ‘engine’ in them. That’s the rumbling thing that you’re feeling right now. It’s also how we’re moving.” She began, “There are several kinds, but this bus is probably a combustion engine.” She immediately wondered if using the word ‘combustion’ was wise, as Lynn suddenly looked far more anxious. “Don’t panic, it’s safe, we’ve had things like this in my own world for years without issue. Long story short, a combustion engine ignites something as fuel, and the resulting energy becomes a mechanical force. That force turns the wheels of this bus, and…I’m not an engineer, so that’s the most detailed explanation you’re going to get from me.” She explained
 
“The wheels, they look soft and black, they do not appear to be made out of any material that I recognize.” Lynn said, as though asking for more information about the bus, apparently getting over his initial fear, somewhat. Honey found it almost adorable, in a way, that someone would be this fascinated and asking her questions like this. It was just a bus, but she supposed that Lynn wasn’t from a world with this kind of technology. There was definitely something amusing about a grown man staring at an object with child-like wonder.
 
“The wheels aren’t made like wooden spokes, you mean?” She asked, raising one brow and looking at Lynn quizzically.
 
“No, they’re not like the wheels on a cart or carriage at all.” Lynn said, “They have no spokes, they aren’t made of flattened wood or metal.”
 
“Okay, so I think I understand what kind of world you have.” Honey replied. It was probably a world without any sort of engine, only simple machines thus far.
 
“Well, wheels in this world are made out of something called ‘rubber’, and we call them ‘tires’ when they’re on something like this bus. There’s a type of tree that we collect sap from, and we process that to make all sorts of things. We can also artificially make synthetic rubber, but we still use the tree. People in large facilities make the tire’s form, and imagine it as a well-made bag, almost. We fill them with air until they’re very tight, and then seal them so that it can’t escape, and it’s under a lot of pressure. That is what a tire is.”
 
“Fascinating!” Lynn exclaimed quietly, before looking out the window, “It is even faster than a well-bred cart horse pulling a light carriage.”
 
“Humans have made a lot of advancements in other worlds,” Honey replied, “They’ve even invented machines capable of flying, entering space and landing on the moon, and we’ve also managed to make things that move so quickly, they surpass the speed that sound travels.”
 
“Feats such as those are achievable? What is the moon like? What creatures live there?” He asked.
 
“Nothing. It doesn’t even have air, you need to wear a special suit to survive. It’s just a big, dead rock. People in my own world got too absorbed by the war, so I don’t know what the prospects for space travel were after the moon, but I think people wanted to explore another world beyond that. It’s a big red planet with rusty soil. We found that out by building little machines that went in our place. We call it Mars. There’s other planets, too, but they’re too dangerous. Too cold or hot, too much dangerous energy from space, or they don’t even have any land to speak of, just a big, floating ball of toxic air.”
 
“That is remarkable, I wonder if my world will ever learn how to do these things.” Lynn was looking up in the sky as a commercial airline flew past in the distance. No doubt, he knew it was one of the people’s flying machines that Honey had just mentioned.
 
“You might, but your world, if you haven’t even gotten as far as engines yet, has a ways to go. Once you figure out certain concepts, though, you’ll see things advance pretty fast. The question is whether or not things catch on in your lifetime. You’re behind a time period like this one by several centuries. Of course, you might have things in your world where you don’t see the need for those inventions. Maybe human population isn’t big enough yet, maybe you don’t have the same kind of economy as here, or maybe you have something as good as an engine using magic, or some animal I don’t know about.” Honey shrugged.
 
“Dart Dragons. We use them to pull the fastest carriages, and one would move this fast. You have to either strike a deal with a wild individual, though, or you have to have found one that was raised by humans that decided to do that out of the kindness of their heart. They usually don’t speak the human language, but once an egg is raised by a human, they speak the same language, and their mates and offspring usually speak as humans do, also. Sometimes wild dragons learn human language on their own, so really, there’s a lot of ethic issues, though they remain the core of the most advanced societies. Do dragons count as animals or as people? Some are not intelligent, and others are not, and while sometimes humans befriend dragons, other times, knights go to slay them.”




Mouse & Elysia
 
Elysia’s tail twitched and she looked over at Lynn, sitting by the window past Honey, “Bigger dragons are largely people, and they’ll work if you pay them. Offer a nice hunk of mana, or some gold or pretty jewels. Most dragons like to hoard things, sometimes those hoards are valuable to humans, sometimes it’s junk. It varies, usually. Dart Dragons are particularly fond of crystals, especially pale blue ones. It matches their eye color. Most people think it has to be certain kinds of mana, but really, if you just find a nice crystal, even if it’s common, they’ll be happy.”
 
Honey looked in her direction, “I suppose you know this because you can turn into one?” She asked.
 
“Even if I could, I don’t need to transform to know something like this. Dragons tend to hoard things because it’s a way of attracting a mate, and also, because having an eye for beauty isn’t solely a human trait. Humans like to decorate their homes, so why would dragons, as intelligent as they are, be any different? Even common birds tend to deliberately grab shiny twine or silver hairs for their nests. They’ll pick those things over regular dull colors. Additionally, why would males or females have bright colors or ornamentation to attract mates, if they didn’t care about how something looked? Gift-giving and a display of skill or intelligence is something humans do all the time.” The cat said, kneading her claws on the vinyl seat, leaving little scratches as she did so. She realized she was doing it unconsciously, and stopped, “I need to remember not to do that,” she muttered.
 
“You really are like a cat, aren’t you?” Honey responded, ears pricking up and swiveling towards Elysia somewhat, focusing on her.
 
“Like I want to hear that from a person with the face of a mountain lion.” Elysia responded. She probably spent too much time in her cat form, in all honesty. She’d developed a few bad habits from hanging around other felines too much. She’d also turned into a goat pretty often, usually for climbing mountains and finding food, but people generally laughed at this, even though it was a well-thought decision and eating plants was easier than hunting something down and killing it.
 
“I don’t hunt and kill mice, before anyone starts making jokes about that.” She said calmly.
 
So far, the desert wanderer had said nothing.

Desin continued to eavesdrop on Goose, Zhesta'kai, and Therese as they spoke, catching only some snippets from louder conversations happening elsewhere on the bus, as he wasn't focusing on them. He reflected to his own story, which he was glat not to tell.
So for the time being he looked out the window, watching the scenery with some interest as he listened.

Goose pointed at the bird girl, "Now that, that's a long story. That's about a billion years worth of storytelling if I wanted to tell everything. So here's the gist of it. My name is Goose. I'm what you would call a falsehood, a being that is embodied by the power of ideals. Our counterparts, the truths, are beings embodied by the power of, well, truth. My people are waging a never ending war with our counterparts over the favor of our god. Whichever side is currently in favor of the Gjothyme, our god, gets insane amounts of power. We use that power to keep the Nogjods from taking over. But apparently the Nogjods finally beat us. We all got kicked out of our realm, even the truths, and that's how I ended up here."

Zhesta'kai cocked a spiky eyebrow at Goose. "I'll be frank with ya, Duck: none o' that made a lick o' sense to me. What exactly is a Nog-whatever, anyways?"

Therese had to admit that she had found this account a little fantastic in nature compared to Zhesta'kai's, and didn't quite understand quite a lot of what he had said. But before she could ask any questions, something started to buzz in her sensitive ears. It was barely noticeable at first, but steadily increased, gaining a somewhat pulsing quality, and then, almost the sound of a voice.

Zhesta'kai, before Goose could give an answer, had noticed that the bus seemed to be slowing down, and was peering out the window at a run down looking gymnasium, it's door open for whatever reason.

"Looks like this here's our next hotspot stop, eh?" he said. He then glanced at Therese. "Whatcha cockin your head there for, Birdy?"

Therese was bending her head first one, then another, a look of concentration and alarm on her face. "Screaming," she said. "Screaming and crying, coming from the building."

Zhesta'kai cocked his head to listen. "I don't hear nothin'."

"Well, I sure do," said Therese, and before anyone could intervene, she was out of her seat, off the bus, and on her way towards the open door, the sound getting louder the closer she got.

The inside was a bit strange looking to her (there were few gymnasiums where she was from); the closest thing that she could come up with to compare it to was a boot camp. The place was full of strange looking machines that she wasn't familiar with, some resembling windowed boxes, other being some strange combinations of pulleys and lever with what looked to be seats and handles attached. But she paid little attention to these things, focusing on where the sound was coming from.

In one corner of the room she had followed the sound to, was strong-looking woman with her back turned to Therese, standing facing one corner (Therese would never, she thought, get used to the bizarre appearance of these peoples' legs). At first, Therese thought the woman was the one screaming and crying. But she quickly saw that this was not the case, but rather was the creature that was crouched in the corner, perhaps the strangest Traveler Therese had seen yet.

It was a large crab, with a yellowish-brown carapace three feet in width, and two feet in length, with some slight spikes on the left and right sides, and a slight spike at the end. The limbs of the crab were yellow-orange, and scrunch tightly up against the body. The chelipeds, the left one slightly heavier than the right were being held over the face, and the eyes were retracted. The crab was wearing a battered backpack, and the sound, now obviously that of crying and wailing, were coming from it. Copious amounts of what looked like tears seemed to be coming down from beneath the chelipeds, and the crab would swipe out at the woman if she tried to touch him.

"What's going on?" said Therese, hurrying in. "Is that a Traveler?"

Goose frowned when he entered the gymnasium. There was a weeping crab that irritated him immensely. He said to himself quietly, "More ****ing weirdos." There was a snort and heavy breathing that came from behind him. Goose turned around and saw some sort of monster towering above him. Goose made a disgusted face and said to it, "Uh, can I help you, freak?"

The monster only slightly resembled a human, with a giant spiky stump instead of legs, two giant columns of bones instead of arms, and pulsating red veins where it's eyes should've been. A pink bloodied sweater was tied around it's waist and a torn up, dirtied undershirt covered it's chest. It wore no pants, because no pants would fit on it's stump. It had relatively nice looking brown hair for being a disgusting beast, it's hair tied up in four ponytails that seemed to be extremely stiff. It's skin was a pale yellow that reeked of rotten eggs. It's sharp teeth were bared in what looked like a constant and sick half smile.

The thing spoke in a quick detached voice that often stopped altogether to search for words to say. Every syllable it spoke was separated by a short pause, "You should be nice to the crab. It is in a lot of distress." Surprisingly, it's voice was rather feminine, despite the fact that it was raspy to the point of no return.

Goose scoffed at it and walked away.

The monster creeped its way across the gymnasium floor, leaving a trail of crusty limestone where it slid. It ended up right behind Therese.

Focused as she was on what was going on in the corner, Therese didn't notice the monster until it was right behind. She jumped in surprise, looking at the thing with more than a little apprehension, and made sure she had enough room to dodge away from it, if necessary.

"Um, hello," she said. "I assume you're a Traveler?"

As for the crab, one of its eyes emerged for a moment from behind its chelipeds, perched on a stalk. At the sight of the monstrosity standing so close, it promptly retracted it and began to wail even louder.

Honey & Lynn
 
Honey had heard enough people screaming by this point to never really get completely phased by it. Her ears were much more sensitive than a normal human’s, and since she’d extracted her own fair share of terrified shrieks from humans with her looks, it seemed almost funny that they would suddenly get such a response from a thing that her footsteps told her looked something like a crab. She had almost no visible sign of distress on her features when she walked into the gym, with Lynn trailing behind, having decided to follow her out of the bus when she got up to leave. “Congratulations, we’re terrifying this guy even more.” Honey muttered sarcastically, her ears flattening as she got closer.
 
She saw that Therese was trying to talk to the frightened individual, and the echoes of Honey’s footsteps additionally picked up something very oddly-shaped. She detected a sulfuric smell, mixed with the scent of blood, and her lip curled slightly at it; it had that apocalyptic feel to it, like what she’d escaped when she stepped through the portal with Scylla. Upon closer inspection as the changeling approached, it was revealed to be a strange, mound-like creature with sharp, grinning teeth, a lack of eyes, and it seemed to almost petrify the things that it touched when it slid along. Honey had hardly any reaction of fear or disgust, though, when she saw the thing’s appearance, and didn’t really feel any need to worry over whether or not this alien-looking Traveler would hurt someone. For all the feigned defenselessness the Greeters had, it was clear that there would be serious consequences if someone were to behave violently, and Honey was not one to act without thinking things over.
 
Not only did Honey not seem to have much fear of the creature, but she even hid the strange expression she made at the smell, aware that it might be seen as rude, especially since this monstrous Traveler had expressed something like concern for the distressed crab. Honey presumed it was a ‘she’ since the creature had spoken with such a voice, and it even had something vaguely feminine about its looks, but what the species was, she had no idea. Honey wasn’t one to judge based on looks, however, given that her own appearance sometimes terrified people, and sometimes, her own gender was questioned, even though her voice and dress-style should have been distinctly feminine in nature. Honey was often forced to tell people she was a girl if she wore something other than a skirt or dress or extremely frilly outfits, for whatever reason, casual clothing seemed to be a grey area, and most people took a moment to figure it out on their own, because they were too scared to ask directly.
 
“I’ve never seen a creature like that,” Lynn’s eyes widened, “It must be created with strong earth magic, look how it petrifies the flooring, to do that wherever it moves over organic matter would be a feat for any mage, the mana it would take.”
 
Honey sighed slightly, realizing that Lynn’s tendency to assume something he didn’t understand was the result of magic would probably be a bad habit, even though that wasn’t entirely how every world worked. It was good that he seemed more amazed than terrified, but in the end, even though his ideas weren’t totally invalid in this circumstance, he was still judging things based on how his own world worked. It wasn’t that having a reference to judge things was the issue, but the fact that the manner of thought was too specialized and narrow.
 
“Well, perhaps magic, but I don’t know how it works in your world. I’ve never needed this ‘mana’ stuff to do things.” Honey told him, “I can sustain plants and flowers with my presence alone, and there’s nothing I’ve ever had to absorb to do that.”
 
Honey, swishing her tail along the floor as she stepped over a crust of limestone, walked over to where the muscular woman was watching the scene with dismay.
 
“I suppose you weren’t expecting someone to scream when they saw you.” Honey commented.
 
The woman turned, saw Honey, and jumped, “How did you-?”
 
“I’m very quiet, what is silent to me is definitely inaudible to a human.” Honey answered the question, not needing the woman to complete it to know what she was asking. “Well, not that you could hear me over the noise.”
 
The Greeter sighed, “Well, sometimes this happens, but this one has been screaming for quite a while. We humans take for granted that we’re not scary-looking, but if we don’t exist or look similar to people on an alien world, and they don’t know what we are, I guess fear is another response. Usually, they just think we’re weak, but this time, I was seen as a threat, and I can’t entirely tell if that’s because of me, the turn of events, or even the one creature….whatever she is.”
 
“Well, she’s quite terrifying, not that I’m one to talk. Seems like a nice person.”
 
“Interesting thing to say, considering you haven’t spoken to her at all.” The woman raised one eyebrow.
 
“She spoke with concern for someone else.” Honey said, “Plus, I’m from a world where the nicest people look like handsome humans, and the ugliest monsters are kind-hearted. Looks are a poor indication of character.”

Callisto was lingering near the exit to the gymnasium, being more than happy to leave the bus, even if only for several minutes. She stared straight at the crab-creature crawling around, and seemed to cringe at the thought of possibly going near it. She overheard Goose - it was hard not to, given his volume. And though she wouldn't have been so profane about it, she had to inwardly agree... This was odd.

In fact, she could see nothing but eventual disaster come from this. It will take time, but one of these days, she felt, one of the travelers would crack and all hell would break loose. Desin and Goose immediately came to mind as potential culprits... but who knows for certain? They might turn out to be the glue that holds their little group of travelers together. The point was, she knew how it was to be in an army falling apart from the inside. All the signs were there. It was simply a matter of if someone would take charge to fix the problem... God knows Callisto wouldn't.

No, another part of her spoke, There is no use in creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. A sense of foreboding helps nobody. And besides, she didn't actually know much about why these travelers were being summoned... She was content to let her grievances rest for now.

Goose, as he stormed away, passed closely by Callisto, who at this point was leaning against the wall beside the exit, arms hanging limply at her sides. She attempted to attract his attention, "Feeling stressed?" To be honest, she could not care less for the other travelers in the room. She had a very one-track mind, especially in her waning state, and trying to learn about more than one of her new companions at a time would, admittedly, be difficult.

Goose glared through the glass of the vending machine while responding to Callisto, "You have no ****en idea." He knocked on the glass, "There's too many weirdo's here." Goose turned to Callisto, looking rather smug, "So who're you under all that armor?"

***

The monster snorted, "Yes, I am a traveler named Thukr. I like being one very much. Everyone is very civil, but not all are nice. The soft-seed was very rude to me and the crab." Thukr seemed to be situated in one position that she refused to change. A vein on her face pulsated rather harshly for a short amount of time, and then she continued. "I am sad because the crab is sad. Maybe we could get help for the crab." She rotated her entire body by using the feelers underneath the mound of spiked tissue and then crawled over to Honey. "The crab is sad, but I do not know why."

A fly that was most likely attracted by Thukr's stench, landed on her face, but died instantly due to her infection. It was then slowly dissolved into her skin until it was entirely gone.

The knight's emotions were unreadable - well, of course they were. All that Goose knew is that two hollow eyeholes stared at him, almost judgingly so. "Callisto," she suddenly replied, as if jumping back into reality. "And... not much, I suppose," she murmured, lifting her hand and staring at her wrist as if there was something interesting underneath. "I am sort of... living in here. Until something else happens to me." She chuckled.

Callisto seemed uptight and reserved, yet judgmental of others - no, that judging look at Goose hadn't been a trick of the eye. Yet as the suit of armor answered Goose's question, her tone still seemed uncertain, as if she were making up an answer on the spot. She didn't necessarily sound as if she were lying, but rather she was explaining something not only to Goose, but to herself. "And it's alright to let off steam for a while. I've been traveling for quite a while, I remember - I understand your feeling."

Goose smiled, still smug and not at all not bothered by the judgmental stare that Callisto was so fond of, "Oh I get it, you're bound to the armor or something like that. My ancestors do that occasionally, but they use corpses instead." It was almost like Goose was trying to be intentionally gruesome. "I'm gonna take a shot here and guess that you're familiar with magic then?"

Callisto paused, combing her thoughts. She remembered little about her original realm - even she was lucid enough to recognize that. But she could not find any memory of how she came to be. She knew she was living, once - and then she wasn't. She knew she had entertained the thought of some magical trick being played on her before, but she could never be certain. Perhaps she never will be.

"No," she intoned, voice level as always, "I am not familiar with magic." Once again, the knight paused, carefully choosing her next conversation topic. If his 'ancestors' truly possessed corpses like Goose had claimed, then perhaps there may be a connection? Wow, she hadn't traveled here thinking that she'd find any answers to her predicament, but here she was.

"You say that your ancestors possess nonliving things. Is this magic?" Now, her judging gaze could now be interpreted as an inquisitive stare. Her helm tilted to one side ever so slightly.

Goose shrugged, "I guess it could be called magic. But it's more of a... How would you explain it." He held his hand up to his chin and thought. After considering what it really was, he still didn't have a proper explanation. He paused slightly and thought for a half a moment more and finally came up with a good answer, "Laws are physics are different in my world. There's a lot more leeway than other worlds, at least in the whole 'coming back to life' aspect. Anyone can come back to life as long as there's a body to support that." He gave a smirk, "I should of brought a guidebook for my world. Get mother****ers educated."

In all the commotion, Desin had followed the others into the gym, however he had stuck to the back of the group, preferring to observe the new freaks that would likely be joining them soon. At least as soon as the crab stopped its blubbering. It wasn't for a lack of understanding the reasoning behind its distress, however it simply wasn't productive.

Callisto nodded. That seemed to make more sense... she had noticed that some realities had somewhat different 'rules' than others. Perhaps this is what Goose spoke of. It was a rather interesting prospect to entertain.

Though his answer didn't come much closer to solving her plight.

"Thank you for telling me," she said regardless, and then spoke no more. At any rate, it was a little easier to know that she wasn't a lone case. For a brief moment, she heard a very familiar voice speaking to her, telling something quite similar to her, but it was soon gone, and so too was all recollection of the memory that she had just reexperienced. She hated when that happened.

"He's probably scared," said Therese, in response to Thukr. "And who can blame him? There probably isn't anything like us from where he's from." She paused thoughtfully for a moment. "So many people think of arthropods as being frightening because of how different they are. But just how different and scary do we look to them?"

Just then, the crab began to make a new sound. "Um . . . um . . . wa . . . um . . . want to . . . um . . . go ho . . . home!"

"Oh!" said Therese sympathetically, and then hurried over, crouching in front of it. At this, the crab tried to withdraw even further, and began to whimper. "No . . . no! . . ." it said. Therese could now see that it made sound by vibrating a small pair of appendages that were situated just above it's mouth, stridulation, to give the act its scientific name. "Leave . . . leave me alone! Go . . . um . . . um . . . go away!" The crab seemed to have some sort of speech impediment, although it may have simply been due to it being so afraid.

"Hey, it's okay," said Therese soothingly to it. "No one's going to hurt you, I promise. My name's Therese. What's yours?"

The crab poked its teary eyes out slowly, and Therese smiled at at it. "My name's Therese," she said again. "What's yours?"

The crab sucked its eyes in and out a few times (this was most likely its equivalent of blinking), and then spoke. "Wha . . . um . . . um . . . what are yyyou? Wwwhere am . . . um . . . um . . . ammm I?"

"I'm an Avimar," said Therese, "and we've both in another world. We're Travelers, you me, and most of the others here."

"Tra . . . Travelers?" said the crab.

"Yes," said Therese. "Apparently, we can go through portals, doorways to other worlds."

The crab began to swivel its eyes around, scanning those present. 'Dddoorways?" How . . . um . . . do we . . . um . . . get bbbback?"

Therese hesitated a moment. "I'm . . . I don't know if we can, necessarily." At this, the crab began to cry again. "Hey, it's okay," said Therese, taking one of the crabs chelipeds in her hands as blinked back a few tears of her own. "I know how you feel. I can't get back to my home, either. But I'm sure we'll find a way back. I promise we'll find your home again."

After a few more sobs, the crab re-extended its eyes. "P . . . Promise?" it asked hopefully.

"Promise," said Therese firmly.

The crab blinked (for want of a better term), a few more times, and then spoke. "Il . . . um . . . Il-Sychi . . . Mmmy name is Il-Sychi Nnnnychía . . . Nychía."

Thukr noticed the crab began to calm down, which prompted her to rotate go the short distance towards it. "I do not like it when people are sad. I am happy that you are happy. You just needed some clarification." She had trouble saying clarification. "My name is Thukr and I will not hurt you. Maybe we can be friends." Hopefully, her appearance didn't scare Il-Sychi to the point of crying his eyes out. She was being the friendliest she could be, which didn't seem like a whole lot. It was mostly because of the way she talked and how she couldn't form any other facial expression besides a menacing bearing of teeth.

Il-Sychi shuddered as Thukr came nearer, and did not respond to her. He was still clearly a little scared; as he rose slowly to his feet, he kept close to Therese. She seemed to have won his trust, but he was still afraid of everyone else, it seemed.

Riley sunk down and stared at the bedlam before her, her eyes holding a dazed look as the emotions crowded her mind. Panic, stress, anger, fear, hatred- the emotions were the same in every person she singled out from the crowd. The idea of helping the emotions calm down was seeming more appealing by the minute, even if doing so would set her at odds with the Fellowship; Riley would do anything for a calmer setting in which she did not have to empathize with the other freaks. The kaleidoscope of emotions screaming in her mind was becoming insufferable, at this point, and making the nauseous feeling of dread root itself deeper in her gut. Her brown eyes searched the crowd for some courage.

Panic, stress, anger, fear, hatred.

Drained and defeated, Riley intended to look back at her feet when she saw it. Her eyes snapped back to the area she felt the emotions coming from. The wavering surface emanated glassy emotions, its confusion still calmer in comparison to the environment of her current predicament.

“I need to check on someone,” Riley mumbled to Thomas, who was sitting next to her, and stood up before walking towards it. She was not even sure if Thomas had responded, nor did she care, at this point. As she neared it - that place of quivering contrast - she reached her hand forward, before moving her entire being towards it - no, towards the portal. She watched her hand move in before moving the rest of her being, her mind screaming against her muscles to move back to the place she was stationed at. Ignoring reason, she let the rest of her body slip through the portal. When she had finally moved through, it was then that Riley regretted her movement and her eyes widened at the scene before her.

Wherever she was, she was not on school grounds anymore; she was in a gym, but this one was empty. She was vaguely aware that she had not changed in form. She still wore the red shirt that read ‘I speak fluent movie quote” on the front, and still wore her favorite blue jacket and some jeans. Her loose brown hair was tousled from recent events.She noted that there were freaks to spare here, too, but her eyes almost instantly settled one of them - a cat-like changeling, whom she had silently singled out as a freak on the first day at Legerman. A changeling from Legerman could not be here - if anything, it would have to be someone who looks like the freak, right? They are probably dead and lying somewhere on Legerman Academy grounds, at this point. They’re dead because of you.

Riley quickly looked away and let her eyes continue to traverse the room, trying not to focus on any particular occupant for fear of recognizing anyone else. Even here the guilt pounded in her chest, but she plastered a smile - one she tried to feign for amusement, but her anxiety was clear - onto her thin lips and looked around the gym, the change in atmosphere both calming and unnerving. “Could someone explain where I am?” Her voice came out clearer in spite of herself.

Goose looked somewhat surprised that someone normal was finally amongst them, at least that's what he thought at first. He could feel her sense of spirit wafting through the air and her wavelength wasn't exactly human, but it was hard to tell without the Gjothyme being present in their current existence. He had his doubts about her, just like he had his doubts with everyone. No one was safe from his judgement, especially the ones that weren't all that human.

Compared to Goose, Thukr was saintly, at least in intentions. She rotated towards the direction of the newcomer, and slowly slid over to her, "You are somewhere far away. I do not know where this place is, but the strong soft-seed will help you. She is the one that is in that direction." Thukr rotated towards the muscular woman and slid over to her, leaving a trail of limestone on the ground. She flared her nostrils and said to the buff lady, "Hello, a person needs help." Her blissful awkwardness knew no bounds.