You think you might cross over, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea...

[stilllookingup]

Some time in the late afternoon, just before dark, a rift flashes into existence over a decimated street in downtown Chicago. Water comes pouring through, shooting out like a high-pressure stream--and with it comes a young Japanese woman in a suit and long white trench

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[stopdropanddie]

A dog limps through the rubble, paying no mind to Misaki. He's a very handsome German Shepherd, albeit an old one and one of his back legs is oddly mangled, although starting to heal.

Jack's convinced that as much as he actively dislikes being an animal, it's a lot easier to limp around on four legs than it is to limp around with a cane and two.

Here, Misaki! Have a boppy.

[stilllookingup]

Misaki likes dogs. She's never owned one--the amount of time she spends at home, she can't really afford to try taking care of an animal. Seeing this one hurt and limping through the rubble, however--

What happened here, anyway?

She makes her way cautiously toward the animal, trying to keep her arm as still as possible, wincing every time she slips on a wet and pulverized concrete.

"Hello," she murmurs. "It seems we're having the same trouble."

[stopdropanddie]

Jack's ears twitch and he stops walking, turning his head to look at the woman. He sniffs the air cautiously and sneezes. The Rift tends to leave an odd stench on people, especially when they first come through.

Perfect. He'd love to be telling this story while human, but at least he can communicate in this form.

He lays down on the concrete, injured leg sprawled out to his side so he's not laying on it.

"Do you speak English?" He sends. He can speak Japanese, but it's hard enough being a psychic dog at someone without revealing that you speak their language too. Plus, it's just easier to explain in your native tongue.

[stilllookingup]

She gives a startled little jerk, the pain from her arm almost making her black out.

Contractor.

Somehow, she is not surprised. "Yes." It's good English, too, with a light, high-class English accent. She's worked hard on improving over the past few years. "What happened here?"

She's keeping her gun out, while not on him. This is... a little strange, actually. This Contractor has no reason to talk to her--logically, anyway.

Unless he does.

Her head hurts. She closes her eyes to keep the weird hypersensitivity from making her dizzy.