faith is a knowledge...beyond the reach of proof.

[selfmade_crouch]

Barty had gone home to change, and left again immediately. It was the benefit of having a mother who was weak and desperately possessive and a father who was entirely absorbed in conquering politics, which was as worthless a pursuit as one could possibly find. Ministers came and went. Barty was a part of something permanent

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[sinfuldemise]

Regulus had just finished all the work he was going to accomplish on his and Snape's hut today. He felt sweaty and gross and was on his way to take a dip in the ocean to relax when out of fucking NOWHERE appeared a far too familiar face.

Oh fuck me, he thought bitterly. It wasn't that he didn't like Barty, because he liked him just fine when he was alive. It all just depended on when Barty was from and to be honest, Regulus didn't care to find out. He paused on the path and tried to figure out places he could hide when he realized he was about ten feet from the man and probably had no chance at all. Fuck. "'Lo there," he managed. Maybe he could pretend he didn't recognize him.

[selfmade_crouch]

Barty turned, eyes widening to pale pools of incredulity.

"Regulus?" he breathed. Regulus Black was dead, and as such it probably wouldn't be best to greet the man- who looked strange, darker and unflatteringly...rugged- with dismay. "Where are we."

[sinfuldemise]

Fuck. Barty would recognize him, wouldn't he. Regulus sighed and carded his hand through his hair. "You're on an island, Barty. A strange fucked up island with no way off of it."

[selfmade_crouch]

"How inconvenient," he remarked, still looking the other man over. It was hot out, he was beginning to notice, particularly under his autumn wear.

"How did we get here?" He rather thought he would have noticed if he'd died. He also didn't believe in an afterlife, which would have made the present situation rather awkward if he had.

[i_am_snape]

There were some days where Snape wished he had never even gotten out of bed.

This happened to be one of them.

Because there, in the middle of the sand, oh, fucking hell, popped Barty Crouch. A very young and still alive Barty Crouch, and Snape wondered if it was too late to start pretending to believe in some deity somewhere to get him the hell out of here before he was noticed.

As it was, though, he simply stood and scowled, drawing himself up to his full height and trying to not look like his entire life was going to go to hell with the arrival of another Death Eater.

[selfmade_crouch]

Barty finished his slow circle, though he was aware there was someone behind him, before his eyes settled on Severus. He frowned, warily, glancing the man over. Something about the hooked nose and the sallow complexion seemed familiar.

He didn't say anything, either.

[i_am_snape]

He watched and waited as Barty stared at him. It took them a while to guess, usually. All of the people grabbed here from his past seemed to take an inordinately long time to connect his present appearance with his 20-year old self.

He didn't look that much different. A little grayer, a lot more tired. And with shittier clothes, here.

With a sigh, he folded his arms across his chest, left sleeve slipping up just a bit to reveal a tad of the Dark Mark emblazoned there.

[selfmade_crouch]

Barty's expression merely flickered more toward frowning before it cleared.

"Severus?" he asked, tone edging toward the disbelieving, but then, Barty was rarely wrong, so he had to assume he was right.

In this instance.

"Why are you... old?"

[loserofmillions]

Mac had been walking down the path, set for the beach, when some guy seemed to pop into existence further down, his back to her. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, because really, she always seemed to get stuck with people even newer than her, she headed down the path, stopping a few feet away from him. "Hey, you okay?" she asked his back.

[selfmade_crouch]

Barty was already frowning as he turned, taking in the girl's strange appearance as well as a step back. Muggle. Oh dear.

"I'm quite well," he said. "Where are we?"

[loserofmillions]

And this was the part Mac sucked at. "Well, it's a bit of a long story. But this is an island. Most people call it Tabula Rasa."

[selfmade_crouch]

He fixed her with a very disconcerting stare. It was not amused in the slightest.

"I may need the somewhat longer version," he said.

[pawnoffenric]

Ace hummed under her breath as she walked towards the beach - well, limped. She still wasn't walking so well, unless she was where someone could see her, and then she did everything she could to not look like-

Person.

In the path. She was relatively certain that the last time she'd looked up, there'd not been a person standing there, and now-

Which meant one thing.

"Hullo, then! Where're you from?" She was in an off-the-shoulder green shirt that screamed 1983, as did her black skirt and tights, but what gave away that they were from the same relative time and country was most certainly the west Londoner accent.

[selfmade_crouch]

The opposite end of where you are, he thought. She seemed awfully cheerful and, comparing the surroundings with her... general self, not likely to be a native.

"England," he said impeccably, but pulled himself back a little, and swallowed, looking more furtive, less angry. "Where are we?"

[pawnoffenric]

He was from home. Back home, actually, and- and there was something about that that was both comforting and disconcerting.

He wasn't from the ancient past, or from some weird 'This is when we shoot lasers' kind of place. It was.... Nice, even if he sounded like- well. Bug up his butt, he had.

"It's an island." She paused. "It's hard to believe, but there's something there that pulls people from all sorts of space and time and universes and drops them here. Makes you human if you weren't, but there's a settlement- people have been here for a year and a half."

That was her personal spiel. You go through it, then you peer up at the person you were telling it too just to make sure they wouldn't faint.

[selfmade_crouch]

"I don't understand," Barty said. "How does it... pull you? What kind of magic is it?" She was horrifically clothed, but speaking of non-humans with a degree of rational that he didn't attribute to muggles.

[smilelikesteel]

The sunburn had faded, and Jo was on her way to the beach, ready to brave the sun again in hopes of becoming more used to it. The change from being practically nocturnal to being on a tropical island full-time was a little shocking. But she'd used the sunscreen this time, and had even found a pair of shorts in the clothes box. Granted, they were a little too big, and hung low on her narrow hips, but she'd take what she could get.

Just ahead of her, a guy seemed to materialize from thin air. Was that what it looked like when she did it? "Hey!" she called out, waving to him, remembering her own all-too-recent freak-out. He'd want someone to talk to, and, well, she could try to be helpful.

[selfmade_crouch]

Barty turned sharply, eyes widening at the familiar sort of call, looking vaguely affronted.

"Yes?" he said, frowning, wand still raised.

[smilelikesteel]

Still walking towards the water, Jo smiled, raising a hand in greeting as she neared the stranger. He was pointing some sort of stick at her... well, she couldn't blame him. She'd almost shot Veronica with rock salt, after all.

"Hey," she said, a bit quieter. "You just... appeared, didn't you? I thought I'd say hi."

[selfmade_crouch]

"Yes, I apparated," he said, frowning at her further.

"Hello. Where are we?"