Was touwaka ra coall mean ciel

[imbuologist]

WHO Devon, Sefton, Croix, random Ar Tonelico 2 NPCs as needed
WHAT Two scientists get snatched from Earth and deposited elsewhere by a strange artifact...
WHERE Ar Ciel, specifically the 2nd Tower and the land of Metafalss/Metafalica
WHEN sometime in 2054
NOTES Sefton with song magic. And a cosmosphere. This is going to be interesting.
WARNINGS *grabs the Ar Tonelico 2 box; AHEM!* ... Language, Mild Fantasy Violence, Partial Nudity and Suggestive Themes. ... >D

The outskirts of Pastalia City were plain, nothing to speak of. There were sparse patches of grass, but most of the land was dirt and dust. Oh, and metal. Lots of metal. Devon discovered this the hard way.

Thankfully, whatever strange rip in the fabric of... well, whatever... opened up to deposit him about a two feet above the ground. Not so fortunately, he’d fallen through the rift backwards, so it was the back of his head that came in contact with the cold, solid ground first. Upon impact, he immediately sat back up, gripping his head in both hands and biting back a very loud curse... okay, no, he let that out anyway. “Shit!” he exclaimed, curling in on himself and squeezing his eyes shut tightly just so he wouldn’t have to deal with the swimming vision the blow no doubt caused. He still had no idea what exactly just happened to him, but he felt he could figure that out after his ears stopped ringing and his head stopped pulsing with pain...

Comments

[biomagnet]

Sefton had fallen forward, face first, his arms catching most of the impact with the ground. His power managed to redistribute most of the force, so really it just left his forearms smarting something fierce at him, reverberating up to his shoulders, more than receiving any actual damage.

He groaned, halfway supported by his arms, and slowly pulled himself to his knees, his hands, and squinted blearily at the ground. The fact that he wasn’t alone soon registered and he whipped toward his companion, crawling closer (but not too close). “Devon? Hey—Devon!”

[imbuologist]

Devon’s only response at first was a groan as well. He slowly opened his eyes, the light from the sun making it that much harder to focus, but he eventually got what amounted to a slow, good look around.

This wasn't the site - this was somewhere else entirely. He found himself sitting on what felt like solid metal beneath a layer of dust, and the same scene seemed to stretch out before him for quite a while, with a few patches of grass here or there. A few metal structures were scattered about in the distance, but all of them looked foreign. Behind them... a city? A city wall, at the very least, one made of thick, sturdy stone. An interesting contrast, at least.

He rubbed the back of his head, still in a lot of pain, and turned his attention to Sefton with a wince and a grumble. "H-Hey, Sefton." He had to close his eyes again. "What... happened?"

[biomagnet]

Sefton sat himself nearby, shifting around to try and get a look at Devon’s head to check for bleeding without touching anywhere. He pulled back after a moment and shook his head. Absently rubbing at his forearm, he took in the scenery with extremely quiet concern (and, maybe, some panic beginning to bloom).

“I dunno,” he answered as his eyes wandered. “One minute, I was working, the next...” Sefton gave a vague gesture, closed up and too nervous to risk reaching outward, indicating their current location.

[imbuologist]

Devon nodded - once, though, then he realized how much that did not feel good and promptly bit his lip to keep from cursing again. He took a deep breath, then responded, “Yeah, this isn’t the dig site. Not at all.” A pause... and he managed a bit of a smirk as he added, “Don’t think you could dig through this without a diamond-bit drill, or something.”

[biomagnet]

Sefton scoffed, not seeing the humor so much as simply reacting to the attempted joke. He slowly pushed himself to his feet, turning to give Devon a resigned, almost wary look. “Can you stand? We need to find help; your head’s not gonna get much better on its own.”

[imbuologist]

“Yeah. I think so.” Devon took a breath to steel himself, then slowly pulled himself up. He swayed somewhat dangerously, almost fell back over, but closed his eyes and did his best to steady himself. He covered his face with both hands, mumbling through them as he rubbed at his eyes, “I think I saw a city back the other way. Maybe.”

[biomagnet]

“I see it,” Sefton murmured, hands tucked under his arms and against his sides to squash down any sort of instinct to help Devon up. Not that he really had many of them anymore, but it was better safe than sorry, and the movement itself had become habit. He turned, nodding in the direction of the large structure he assumed Devon was referring to. “That way. C’mon,” he invited. “If you gotta fall, though, try’n do it in the other direction, okay?”

[imbuologist]

Devon nodded, dropping his arms to his sides and turning to follow Sefton. He did crack a small smile, though. “Right, I see how it is,” he joked, with absolutely nothing ill attached - he’d intended to do that anyway, should it come to that...

[biomagnet]

Sefton allowed a smirk to hide his worry, turning to let Devon see it. “Don’t expect me to carry you if you fall, either.” After that, he fell silent, mind churning to find some sort of logic to what had happened... or even to figure out where exactly they were. He’d never seen anyplace like it before.

[imbuologist]

“Heaven forbid,” Devon deadpanned, “I figured you could find a stick and use that to push me. Or roll me. Whichever.” He reached one hand up to check the back of his head for any lumps, blood... any sort of sign that he should be more worried about his head than his current whereabouts. Feeling nothing, and feeling a little bit better, he turned his attention back to the scenery. “I don’t even know where we are,” he admitted, just above a whisper, trying his damnedest not to give into panic. But joking wasn’t working that well anymore.

[biomagnet]

“Me either,” Sefton replied neutrally. He had a depressing amount of practice in pretending to feel normal when things were beginning to get overwhelming. There was only a small window for really acting like everything was okay — but generally speaking, most things didn’t get crazy enough to push him out of the comfort zone. “We’ll... figure it out, though. There’s gotta be people ‘round. We’ll ask.”

[imbuologist]

Devon kept quiet. He knew better than to panic, but that didn't mean he wasn't at all worried. He was becoming more and more convinced that this had something to do with the dig site, but it was hard to draw conclusions when the few minutes before being strangely deposited in the middle of nowhere were a blur. But, speaking of blurs... "Hey, is that maybe someone?"

A short way away, just by the wall, stood a man in what looked... something like a white suit of armor, though of course, Devon had never seen anything remotely like it before. His arms were crossed and his eyes were closed - he was relaxed, like he'd just finished his duties and now had nothing better to do.

"He looks... not-mean." But maybe not quite nice, but like Devon would say that out loud...

[biomagnet]

“He’s wearing armor,” Sefton said flatly, as if that said everything about his opinion of the guy. It did, in some ways. What kind of person would randomly stand about in some over-elaborate armor? Sefton found it fishy, but they couldn’t exactly turn around and look for some other random bystander to ask for assistance; not with Devon’s possible head injury and their own hopelessly-lost status. He picked up the pace and, as soon as he was in earshot, called, “Hey! Can we get some help here?”

[grandbellknight]

Croix looked up, spotted the two. He glanced from one to the other - one seemed hurt, both seemed lost - and nodded as he walked toward them. “What’s wrong?” he asked, mostly directed at Devon, who he noticed was having trouble with focus.

And had he said that out loud, Devon would (attempt to) joke that “trouble with focus” was an understatement. Still, he was trying his damnedest. He rubbed the back of his head. “I, uh. Fell. Onto a bed of metal, or something.”

Croix raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He turned back to Sefton, wondering if he would get some sort of elaboration.

[biomagnet]

When Croix approached, Sefton shifted to lace his hands behind his back, his usual stance that kept people from trying to get closer a little more effectively than some others he had tried. He gave a headtilt in Devon’s direction and obliged by saying, “On his head. He fell on his head.” There was no teasing tone in it, simply the facts mixed with the natural concern for his friend. “S’ there a doctor ‘round here or something?”

[grandbellknight]

Croix winced just slightly in sympathy. He nodded once, moving to stand on Devon’s other side in case the man needed any extra support. “Yeah. Of course, I’ll take you there. How did it happen?”

“That’s a damn good question,” Devon answered with a half laugh. He figured his story sounded weird enough, he probably shouldn’t share it after having just admitted to hitting his head on a block of metal.

[biomagnet]

Sefton stepped to the side automatically, taking up Devon’s other side with no real intention of providing support. He wished he could... but Devon would have to make do with knowing he was there at all. The do-not-touch thing was well and thoroughly known between the two of them by now.

“It’s a bit of a blur,” Sefton agreed with a shrug, as if admitting that he knew the story was weak, but what else could he do? He didn’t even know how to explain how they got there, much less how Devon had nearly cracked his skull open from falling out of literal nowhere.

[grandbellknight]

It sounded a bit suspicious, but Croix had certainly heard (and seen, and been through) much more suspicious things, so he left it alone. Besides, someone was hurt, possibly concussed. That took priority. “A blur for you, too?” he addressed Sefton, “Are you hurt, too?”

[biomagnet]

Oh, right. That would give an excuse, but... Sefton frowned and shook his head. Too late to start feigning injury now, even if he wanted to. Good idea, though, he’d have to save it for later in case there came to be someone more insistent... like the doctor they were going to meet. “My arms’ll probably bruise, but that’s ‘bout it.”

[imbuologist]

Croix nodded. “Alright. Don’t worry, we’ll help you.” He picked up the pace, just quick enough to be noticeable, but he made sure the other two wouldn’t struggle to keep up. “My name is Croix, by the way.”

“Devon,” he responded instantly, mostly out of habit. He went to give a lazy half-wave... and ended up having to lean on Croix for support. He sighed. “I’m really not always this bad,” he joked with a lopsided, sheepish half-smile.

[biomagnet]

“He’s usually worse,” Sefton chimed in, taking the opportunity and simply forgoing his own introduction. His gaze flickered to Devon, lip briefly worming its way between his teeth before he looked away and paid more attention to their surroundings. “Okay, weird question: where are we right now?”

[imbuologist]

Croix actually gave a worried frown. Weird question, indeed. “You’re just outside of Pastalia.”

“Never heard of it,” Devon answered, then realized that probably just made things sound so much worse. He grimaced a bit at his own lack of judgment, but he couldn’t exactly take it back.

[biomagnet]

Sefton rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to sigh too loudly. “Pastalia where?” he asked. If they had... somehow ended up further out in the boondocks, it was reasonable that they had never heard of the city before. Of course it was. It didn’t explain anything else, but that small inconsistency was still possible.

[imbuologist]

Croix looked momentarily confused, then perhaps a little bit wary. “Pastalia... in Metafalss.” He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re from...” he trailed off. His tone wasn’t accusatory, at least.

Devon, though, was still worried. It wasn’t like he could think of any way of talking them out of this. Hell, even telling the truth would likely get them signed up for about fifty different kinds of brain scans once they got to the hospital. He glanced at Sefton briefly, then shook his head. “Probably not?” he offered.

[biomagnet]

Sefton shared the look, allowing some of the helplessness to shine through, before hiding it back away. He gave a large shrug, returning his attention to the scenery... then to Croix. “Unless you’re going to say Vermont or Maryland, then no,” he said.

He had the same feeling Devon was getting (being more than used to paranoia with strangers asking strange questions himself — it usually didn’t end well), but there really wasn’t much way to change the conversation without rousing more suspicion, and lying without knowing the situation would make it even worse. It didn’t stop his insides from twisting around in uneasy knots the longer they spoke with the man. If things turned out badly, he could always make a run for it... maybe it would distract them from Devon, too. Unlikely, but possible.