(no subject)
The Nexus is disturbed today by a tennis ball as it comes flying rather spontaneously out of thin air - quite possibly hitting an innocent passer by. The air around where the ball came from ripples. Though in the blink of an eye it's as though nothing happened. Apart from the ball bouncing around somewhere.
The next thing to appear is a stick. Half a stick, really. It prods the multiverse and swirls the patch of air. Distorting it like water. Testing the invisible portal.
After the stick returns from whence it came the next thing to appear is a hand. It flaps about for a bit, trying to find something to grab onto. When that is unsuccessful, it vanishes back into thin air.
Just when it seems like the hand is going to stay in its own dimension, a man steps through. The look on his face clearly showing just how uncertain he was that he'd be in one piece when he took that step. That is quickly replaced by surprise. And then, inevitably, he looks quite pleased with himself. Still keeping a hand on the hilt of the decorated shortsword strapped to his waist.
"Hm. Strange happenings still like me," he notes with amusement as he brushes off his simple white shirt. A distinct Spanish accent ringing clear. Despite his tan, he looks rather ill and pale.
The Sign isn't hard to spot (on the contrary, it's hard to avoid), but it makes the newcomer roll his eyes. What silly rules. Or perhaps it's the simply the idea of there being rules that irritates him. But fine, he'll humour the locals. He leans on one leg and stares upwards as he tries to think of a half decent question. "Alright. So... If you had the power to choose, but you had to choose, whose memories would you rather be stuck with? Or who would you not mind being possessed by as much as a complete stranger?"
The next thing to appear is a stick. Half a stick, really. It prods the multiverse and swirls the patch of air. Distorting it like water. Testing the invisible portal.
After the stick returns from whence it came the next thing to appear is a hand. It flaps about for a bit, trying to find something to grab onto. When that is unsuccessful, it vanishes back into thin air.
Just when it seems like the hand is going to stay in its own dimension, a man steps through. The look on his face clearly showing just how uncertain he was that he'd be in one piece when he took that step. That is quickly replaced by surprise. And then, inevitably, he looks quite pleased with himself. Still keeping a hand on the hilt of the decorated shortsword strapped to his waist.
"Hm. Strange happenings still like me," he notes with amusement as he brushes off his simple white shirt. A distinct Spanish accent ringing clear. Despite his tan, he looks rather ill and pale.
The Sign isn't hard to spot (on the contrary, it's hard to avoid), but it makes the newcomer roll his eyes. What silly rules. Or perhaps it's the simply the idea of there being rules that irritates him. But fine, he'll humour the locals. He leans on one leg and stares upwards as he tries to think of a half decent question. "Alright. So... If you had the power to choose, but you had to choose, whose memories would you rather be stuck with? Or who would you not mind being possessed by as much as a complete stranger?"