Strider

"I'll have you know, Miss Jeanne, I never forget a name! I've seen your work." One small piece, which he hadn't actually read of course, but he had seen it. "Now, one of you all, one of you fine military--maybe ex-military, hopefully not too hard a breakup--folks, would you be so kind as to advise me? I'd like a gun. Letting zombies get so close seems, unwise." It was not as though he was thinking that if they were far away he didn't have to see the rotting flesh so much. No, of course not. "And perhaps, if one of you all needs the help, and is too far away, I could shoot them off you! I happen to be a natural sprinter, but at some point the distance may be too great to traverse!"

"Sure. That's uh, probably a good idea. PART is what we got named. Kinda. So that's our mess." Harry grimaced, then shrugged. They'd just have to take care of it. "I'll go on the mayors daughter team. I've seen the bug cape before, and I think they've seen me, so maybe that'll go alright. Does anyone else have medical training? Need someone on bank duty." "For the mayor, I'm gonna need a ride. Do any of you have one?" Harry asked the assembled group.

"I suppose I could try to lift people out if there's no way to get back across the pit. Going up through there seems decidedly safer than risking the crossing." Heading back after determining their path out--whether Hiroki found one or not--Edmond made certain to inspect the walls of the hall going forward, trying to see if any openings were visible that might indicate traps. If any are present, call Hiroki back/warn her.

The boy, could he be the lynchpin? Something was at work here, something odd, and Ena thought it hinged on this boy they mentioned. "Well, thank you for telling me." With that Ena walked away. The readings were wrong, quite a bit off, indicative of time manipulation. This was her element, but it would require investigating. In taking in the ambient sounds, Ena processed some of Kusuke's words. The man knew something of time flow? Ena approached to a point where she'd be able to catch everything said--not too close of course, her auditory systems were extremely capable--and listened, while checking through her logs. At what point in the conversation had the shift in position and time measurements occured, or was it a gradual shift?

"Well. That's useful, thank you. Probably best to go around and in thriugh the ceiling then. Carrying is all fine, but. . .this is safer and easier, I think." The girl seemed to be putting a fair amount of distance between them, so supposing it might have been a rather uncomfortable ordeal, Edmond thought offering the others the option to avoid it was probably best.

"That may be the case, but he's got a lot of potential. Hopefully the recklessness can be addressed." "I haven't watched the videos either, so I've got no idea if Uber and Leet edited him out. Did you?"

"Yeah, no, that pretty much sounds like the mana stuff. Maybe it's a regional difference. And Mirri, I rather doubt you'd trust yourself to Leo either, though. . . " Harry realized something here. "Wait, you've probably seen him right, through the videos?"

Harry patiently stared at the man, a bemused expression makings its home on his face. When Stretch turned to nod confidently, Harry simply shook his head faintly, unsure how else to even respond. He addressed the one carrying the tacks gently. "Takumi's right in this world. Maybe in other worlds, they do something else, but here, well they'd probably be used exactly as he says. Do you need a weapon?" "And Stretch, is what you used to make those rocks called mana? Looks similar to some other guy's work I know."

"Poncio Romero, at your service! Are you perhaps one of my fans then? That's wonderful, I wondered if anyone really cared that I was here! It's not often one gets to meet critically acclaimed actors such as myself. Completely infathomably, some don't seem appreciate it!" Poncio waved his and in Spooks direction, indignation sneaking into his voice. "Hey, it sounds like she got an operation too, so is she maybe one of us? Why would the good Commander Slate not tell us, I wonder. . . Perhaps, maybe it was meant to be a reveal, for the cameras! Are there cameras? It certainly could have given someone--not me of course--a right scare!"

Poncio sidled up next to John, and murmured to him. "I see this one isn't like the rest, suspected it from the beginning. But do you think it is actually one of them, a zombie? Or does it talking mean it's not a zombie? I always was a sucker for the philosophy of these things!" As he spoke, he began shuffling through the supply pile, glancing warily at the eyeless zombie every so often. He'd be looking for maybe a gun, or something. He'd heard it said not to bring a knife to a gun fight, so surely a sword counted. But then again, you never heard people saying "don't bring two knives to a gunfight", and a sword was like, more than two knives long, right?

Harry, for reasons that should be obvious, did not note the precision of the thirty eight second wait. "Same here. Couple of things, we've got a few new people around here, just showed up. Be aware of that, sorry in advance. Second, I'd like to set up an appointment with Panacea. Mainly to test if someone's powers are safe to use to heal around here, and to get a bit of insight regarding a few things. Compensation would be in the form of helping out with patients, if there are no issues."

"Local law stuff, I'll try to get you in contact with the people you need to talk to. And no, actually this is good, Mr. Stahl. Sorta. There's someone on this world who should be able to determine exactly this stuff's effect. We're actually gonna go on a bit of a field trip to see them I think. I'll eat it then Stretch, okay?" He wasn't going to up and leave until Uber and Leet got here. But he could probably set up the appointment. Turning on on of the old comms sets from last time they'd been here, Harry tried to reach Dragon. "Hey, guess who's back."

Poncio, standing as he was nervously ahead of the zombie, felt a wave of calm rush over him, so swiftly followed by the urge to sing energetically, that he could barely tell the calm had been present. He submitted to that urge, singing along in a rather good tenor. . . ."It's gonna get a little strange!. . ." Soon, quite soon in fact, the urge to sing wore off, and Poncio was left just as confused and bewildered as the zombie. ". . . Huh? What just happened?" He halfheartedly raised his sword to point between himself and the soon to be shot zombie again, but did nothing. Not to say he'd have done something useful if he hadn't been distracted, but he'd have been more likely to try.

Finding as yet no information, Ena continued along her line of leading but technically not lying questions. "Well, I'm certainly not going to say I don't have a white beard. The boy never said it was a visible white beard, now did he?" "Anyway, can you tell me about the Boy? Which of the messages has he given you?"

Harry rubbed his forehead. "Look, I'm not saying don't do anything. I'm just saying there's a lot of possible consequences to little things, so maybe it'd be nice if you tried to consider them first. You see a guy sitting around with a broken arm, and you try to heal him, what if your worlds magic, or the medicines you use give him a heart attack? I'm not asking that you don't help him. I'm asking that you figure out whether your healing magic or medicine gives people heart attacks as soon as possible and as safely as possible. Make sense?" "Last time we were here, we subdued a criminal named Lung and rescued some people from fires he caused. Cleared the local bay of sunken ships to hopefully allow its use again, open up business maybe. Set up a deal with Uber and Leet that gives us some publicity." Harry considered whether he'd mention it, then decided he would. ". . . Couple of those were without checking whether it was safe first, and they worked out fine."

"Dr. Harry Walters." He shook on it, then paused with a disappointed frown on his face. "No, no, that's really not a suitable briefing at all. First off, this place isn't ours. Uber and Leet, the guys who own it, decide whether you do anything here, so we'll wait for them. No immediate tasks." He commented briefly to the sighing man. "I can give you a sort of briefing, and you'll learn the rest on the fly. Now, first off, you're in a pretty unstable world, yada yada. Earth Bet is home to a number of super powered individuals, villains and heroes and in between alike, and at least Brockton Bay, here, has a kinda precarious balance keeping things from erupting into mass violence. Any thing you do--casting magic, playing with drones, healing people, whatever--should be first run by allies on the world, or other people on this team if that's not possible." "Next, here, we've got a few allies. Uber and Leet, kinda criminals. But there's some exceptional circumstances. The PRT, Parahuman Response Team, we've been cooperating with them too, closest to a good organization of heros there is here. Try not to piss em off. Dunno if that's possible, but try." "Finally, there's one thing you all need to remember. This is not your world, and just because something works some way at home doesn't mean it does here. You tread with caution, and forget everything you know to be true. There's only 'true for X world' now. Seems simple, right? I only say it because we've had some ahem issues with it in the past. I trust you all can handle it." He did not trust that they could handle it.

"Oh good, just where I wanted to be. Good to see you Mirri. Uber, Leet? You guys home?" Harry called, and began to look around for Uber and Leet's presence, before noting the unfamiliar faces. New recruits? New recruits probably, unless Uber and Leet were having a costume party in their workshop. "You all been briefed?"

Poncio leaped three feet straight backwards as the zombie was revealed. "W-Wait, there's a zombie in there!" For a moment, his voice shook, before he covered that quaver with a facade of strong indignation. "That's our supply cache, you zombie! Out of there, now! Shoo! Out of there, get out! Get!" Poncio stood a few paces back, sword brandished in an elaborate imitation of a fencing stand, twitching at the end, each time he berated the zombie.

"Of course! 7:30! That was when the prescreenings started, takes me back. . ."Poncio hurries over to the clock, and changes the hands to the right time, gently. "Well, who knows what the riddle actually means, but maybe we'll figure it out later with batteries! And until then, you shall right twice a day, and that's always something."

"This clock, there must be something to it, why else would it be in here? It is, after all, sort of on hand. . . yet if the clock is in here, we couldn't give it, or speak it. . .Let's see, 12 o'clock, that's the time it says, but it's not moving. A damn shame, I say!" Poncio again calls out into the room noting the blood spraying around the room--just like the special effects--"Excuse me! Excuse me, but does anyone have any batteries? And the time? There's a clock right over here, and I think it's something to do with the graffiti! It's just so conspicuous, it must be a clue!"

"Alright, looks like we're good!" Edmond called out, crossing back over. He landed in front of Hiroki, and held out his arms awkwardly. "You said you'd go first?" If that seemed to still be her intention, Edmond would ferry her across, and then the others as best as he can, one at a time.

"A riddle! Hey, hey guys, any of you good at riddles?" Poncio poked his head out the door back into the room with the zombie to call this out, seemingly not noting the fact that the zombie had not yet been dispatched. "On hand, on hand. A sword, perhaps. That's on hand indeed, but. . . no, what sort of person finds swords on the street? Perhaps wood, the wood on my arm! No, definitely not, the grafiti's got to be old, not meant for me. Money? Dirt? Fabric?" Poncio stalks the room, focused intently on this new found quandry. "AHA! IT'S GOT TO BE--no it cannot be, it's not gum, for, why would we have gum on hand? Arrrgh, I---well, let it never be said that Poncio Romero gave up on a mere riddle!" "Perhaps spray paint? Does. . . does one spray paint seats?" Poncio continues to ponder, tapping his wood-door-shield against the wall as he walked around staring at different things, trying to wrap his mind around this quandry. What hour does the clock read? What colors are the walls painted? Does the ceiling hide anything?

"Yeah, sure, that's fine by me, why not?" Liliya pulled the briefcase over, and checked to see what sort of latching mechanism it had, whether it was something they'd just be able to open at their leisure.

Ena chewed these responses over carefully. This wasn't funny enough for them to be laughing like that. "Of course you waited, that makes sense." "But now that that's over, you need something to do. . .Maybe you could draw a picture of Godot in the dirt? Who told you about Godot, anyway?"

"A zombie!? Well, I must say, the makeup artists back in the studios got things pretty much spot on! You'd think they'd maybe met some zombies themselves! You all seem like you've got this under control though." With that, Poncio steps into the room with the barricaded furniture, to take a look around, for more doors to open. He'd been getting quite good at that, if he did say so himself.