trans_9 | The Situation, as it stands.

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The Situation, as it stands.

[ooc: Read this before tagging.]

The AI of Seamus Harper's ship, the Andromeda Ascendant was trapped here along with everyone else, her AI core stolen or at least copied to Stacy's systems. Other AIs had been captured along with her. But she did have answers to some questions, and apparently was willing to tell the crew things Stacy wasn't willing to without being questioned.

Apparently, one of those things was that Cybil Bennet, someone who had popped recently, right along with them, and was merely a police officer back home, was the captain of their crew.

Their crew of what, Harper had asked?

Andromeda's answer:

"The crew of this ship, Harper."

It was then that the eyelid-like visors covering the windows of Obs Deck started to separate, letting in the light--and oh, was there light. They were in the currents of a multi-colored cosmic riptide, surfing the stream. Stars shot past beyond the lights, nebulae, galaxies sped along them as if they were what was moving and the ship wasn't.

It was beautiful.

It was horrible, because it meant they were in space--or something like it. That was a very long way away from their homes.

"We are a very, very long way from Commonwealth space."

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The Doctor gave a little wave to everyone. "Hello! I'm the Doctor! Tourist in time and space. If you're from LINDA or Torchwood, just... don't." Either the fact that he was alien was obvious, or they didn't need to know yet. Obviously.

"Clearly, we all have much to learn from each other," Kory said, stepping forth. She still felt terribly overdressed. "My name is Koriand'r, but I'm known to the people of my Earth as Starfire, a member of a group of heroes called the Teen Titans. I am originally from a planet called Tamaran. You may call me Kory or Star if you wish." She left the princess part out. She didn't want any special treatment, and she had a feeling she might already get some because of her looks.

Her eyes widened a little at the "Gateway to hell" thing. Just...because.

"Hi Sam." It was okay for people to keep things close to the vest. No one really had a solid reason to trust anyone else.

"Seamus, if you're one-hundred percent unmodified, what's that under your ear?" As for the doctor.

"Doctor Who?" What was his name?

~~Someone had to say it.~~

"Never heard of any wood called Torchwood. Better for lighting fires?"

Xander then nodded, and pointed to Sam, "Ding, prize to the gentleman over there. It was a gateway to Hell, was since it's now a crater and closed for business. Used to be monster central when it was active. And uh, yeah, Slayers, used to be one per generation, but we changed that. Now it's a bunch of girls with the ability to kick a lot of demon and vampire butts."

"Do we have any of those girls on here in case we need to fight intergalactic demon zombies?" She looked towards Xander. "Or is it just you that we have?" It was really more of a question borne of curiosity than snarkiness. Really.

Someone always had to ask. "Just the Doctor, actually."

It was hard to see around the room with one eye, but he was going to try.

"If anybody from my team or world are awake, yeah we do. But hey, I count! Don't need powers to take down zombies, and if they were demon zombies, that would probably make them vampires. If G-man were here, he could give you a three hour lecture with footnotes."

"Zombies? 'Gonna eat your brains' zombies?" Wow, that was... wow.

But, hey, at least he wasn't the only normal, non-genetically-modified human around. That wasn't true of too many gatherings anymore where he was from. He glanced back at Cybil from surveying the room. "It's a dataport. Technology, not genetics."

Danny raised his hand. "Danny Fenton or Danny Phantom. Don't care which, just as long as you don't call me Invisobill." He shuddered as he mentioned the third name. "Half-ghost superhero."

"Name's Wally West. Also known as the Flash. Fastest man alive."

Aliens, superheroes, demon-fighting dry-wallers that worked with super-girls, normal people that didn't seem to realize having some sort of technological plug sticking out of your head wasn't exactly normal.

This was incredible.

Not that her expression changed much other than the raise of an eyebrow.

She did have questions, though.

"How can someone be half a ghost?"

Then the Flash spoke. And that was one she was familiar with. The Flash was up there in fame like Superman, after all.

"The Flash like...the character?"

Now they'd stumbled on the elephant in the room.

Kara briefly blinked in alarm at Harper's dataport...he was some kind of hybrid? Still, there was definitely weirder stuff going on. Ghosts? Mutants? What the frak was that? Characters? And did that girl say something about EARTH?

"I am Lieutenant Kara Thrace of the Colonial Fleet, former CAG of the Battlestar Galactica and the Battlestar Pegasus, current Viper pilot and problem child..." She allowed herself a small grin. "You can call me Starbuck."

"By having their DNA be coated in ectoplasm. I'm not entriely sure why it's possible, but I am in fact half-ghost, with a bunch a different ghost-based powers." Danny answered.

Wally scratched his head. "Well, people have called me a character, but I don't think anyone's ever meant it literally.

Flash yes, Starfire...vaguely. The Doctor, definitely. Starbuck, sort of (she hadn't seen the new series). Xander, for certain. That Sam guy, the ghost guy and a bunch of other, no.

There was some she recognized. And likely some that recognized each other.

"Yeah, uh, time to talk about the elephant in the room," the teenage girl with the rather wicked looking scythe and chain strapped to her back spoke up.

"Some of y'all are fictional. On the TV and in comic books and stuff."

That was when Stacy chimed up with a little revelation.

||All of the individuals present in this room are fictional.||

"I knew that!" Well, not really. But he knew some of them were, and as Time Lord, he needed to keep up appearances.

Besides, in a way, everyone but Gallifreyans were fictional. If you squinted and tilted your head a bit to the left, and thought very hard like a council member.

That provokes a long, almost-choking laugh from Mr. Wednesday. "Of course we are. If you really need something done, you look in the mythologies." One hand rubs at his face before tracing down to press at his throat.

"Some people call me Mr. Wednesday. Unless you're more than what you seem, I'm fairly sure I'm older than any of you." His gaze drifts over to the Doctor, left eye a little more open than the right. "It's been a long time since I was a proper warrior, but I've learned a great many things in the time since. Now, if I could just borrow someone to - lean on -"

Without further ado, he collapses.

"............All of us?"

But then Wednesday collasped, and she yelled, hurrying over to him, "Who's a medic??"

The Doctor ran over as well, kneeling to check on the man. Over his shoulder he called, "For the record, I am NOT this sort of Doctor!"

Wednesday groans, eyes rolling open again. He was solidly unconscious there - if only for a few moments. "This isn't any place for me," he murmurs. His breathing is slow and a little unsteady, and he looks even paler than he did before.

A hand reaches up to grip the Doctor's arm - and he stiffens, letting out a shuddering breath. "War, war, all dead," he mumbles. "Ten million ships burn in the long light of the sunset." His hand tightens, almost painfully, on the Doctor's arm, and he pulls himself up, heedless of any upset he might be causing. "The last son of the dead kings, buried men who live through the world..." His eyes are rolled back into his head. "Then shall come to pass these tidings also: all the earth shall tremble so, and the crags, that trees shall be torn up from the earth, and the crags fall to ruin; and all fetters and bonds shall be broken and rent..." His voice trails into a whisper.

He collapses again. That he hasn't actually let go of the Doctor's arm may be a problem.

The Doctor stared at the crumpled old fellow, grim, sad, and not nearly angry enough. It seemed that once again, his tragedy was to be broadcast, his grief brought to the surface. His anonymity compromised. Still, he didn't try to break free.

In fact, bar his expression, he didn't react at all. He'd deal with this later, if the man survived. Instead, he half turned again. "Well?! Medic! Come on, one of you has to know something!" He almost called them apes. Perhaps not as calm as he wanted after all.

Energy tentacles emerged from the walls, wrapping themselves around Mr. Wednesday, lifting him up and moving him towards one of the fleshy couches. They moved slowly enough that the Doctor could follow along easily.

||Doctor, please remain near Mr. Wednesday until he has recovered.|| Stacy instructed.

The Doctor nodded and stood to follow the tentacles. Upon arrival he took up position, arms crossed, standing grim vigilance beside the flesh-couch.

"Stacy! What's wrong with him?"

||He is far removed from the source of his power. He is not ill. He simply needs rest. I will be monitoring his status, to make sure he remains stable.||

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