Triviis

Chopper didn't show any fear towards the moving robot. In fact the sudden appearance of the robot appeared to make Chopper incredibly surprised and happy. He stomped his hooves a few times, indenting the soft dirt, in excitement. "A robot?!?" He restated "that's so awesome!" Chopper himself had a friend who was a cyborg, which was close enough to a robot to make him excited to see one. At times his friend would make beeps and bops just to entertain the crew. But he doubted that this robot had the same amount of human personality and emotion as his friend does.

Medic put a hand on Scout's shoulder, and drew him to the side so he could see the waking machine. It was also an attempt to calm him. Having known Scout as long as he had, the doctor could tell when the youth was edgy. This turn of events had done nothing but fray everyone's nerves, and another exciting event could send anyone over the edge. A bunch of unstable teammates was the last thing he needed right now.

"Uh, hello," Medic said calmly, addressing the robot. He had never met any machines that exhibited sentience before. This was fascinating. He hoped it was friendly, although if it wasn't, he didn't doubt Engineer's ability to find a weakness before it could do any serious damage. Or at least he hoped so, as Medic doubted that his own weapons would be much good against metal.

Leo grinned even more when he farther studied the man. Even though he hadn't read the Sherlock books he still knew who he was. Sherlock's friend who was basically like his right-hand man. He stepped forward, "Well, i guess you're Watson!" he gave him a cheeky grin before turning to Sherlock to reply to his answer. "Yeah, i guess you're right.  I don't want to hear about people killing me. However i think my fan base is high."

Leo was quiet a moment, looking around, before continuing to speak. "So do you guys want to try and leave or what? Because I want to get back and finish eating and i was working on a huge project for Camp Half-Blood. Let's just say it's like that time i reprogrammed all the signs at Times Square to say, 'ALL DA LADIES LUV LEO!'" He was quiet again and took out a little concoction from his tool belt, then, and began fiddling with it. It was a bunch of pipe cleaners of various colors. He turned it into a item that looked like a mini gun then back to a wad of pipe cleaners and repeated the process. He really needed something to do with his hands for the time being. All this excitement building up and not getting it out was nerve-wrecking.

Kongu

Kongu was surprised that whatever these mushy things were, even spoke English, or at least some sort of it. The doctor seemed to have an odd accent.

Kongu began to think very hard. They were nothing like the creatures that he knew of. The robes make them look like a turaga... Although, how can they be be turaga if they're this tall? All of them have some sort of robe, even the youngest looking one. He tossed the suspicion that they were turaga into his mental recycling bin. They might not even be animal at all since they're so squishy looking. Only the plants look that fleshy. But how could a plant act this civilized? And plants don't even have that color skin...

Something wasn't right to Kongu. He got up with no trouble at all, and stood over all of them. He asked in his deep voice, "What are you things?" When his lips moved, they revealed flat matte metal with what seemed like a socket that wires could have been plugged into in the center. His voice was emitted from that small hole. The beings that he stared at looked nothing like the ones that he was accustomed to. He thought to himself as another thing to ponder, Where am I anyway?

Scout gave a very confused look to the robot, which he was still slightly scared of, not that he would admit it. It was tall, after all. He didn't understand how a robot could not know what a human was. Didn't humans make robots? Maybe it was something else... He didn't know.

He did know, however, that it had no right to be asking questions. "Whaddaya mean what are we?" he asked indignantly. "We're not things, we're people!" he said before getting to the real question, "What are you?"

Chopper sunk back a little, only now realizing how large the robot was. Chopper was much more accustomed to humorous cyborgs that ran off of carbonated beverages. This robot seemed a bit more serious and hostile. What was odd was that the robot clearly didn't know what a human was. Which raised the question, without humans who made the robot. Chopper decided to not think about that to avoid confusing himself. He quickly glanced at the red clad humans near him, wondering if any of them would take on a giant robot if it was truly hostile.

That made him wonder if he would be able to defend himself. He knew he wouldn't be able to do much fighting is the form he was currently in, which spelt trouble.

Ezio was staring at Deadpool with a look that was equal parts confusion, disgust, and amusement. This Deadpool guy was really annoying him, almost to the point where he wanted to kill him. But Ezio would never kill an innocent man, and extreme annoyance wasn't exactly a crime against humanity. Then, of course, Deadpool mentioned the Apple of Eden, which officially gave Ezio a good reason to kill him. Ezio grabbed the apple out of his pocket, and held it out in front of Deadpool.

"You wanna know what it does?" Ezio asked "Okay! I will be glad to inform you!" The Apple began to glow golden, and it made a high shrieking noise as it powered up. The Doctor took a few steps back, and scanned the device with the Sonic Screwdriver. Hm. he thought Silurian technology. This day is getting more and more interesting. Of course, The Doctor now realized that there was no reason to stop Ezio from blasting away at Deadpool, because he could heal himself. So, The Doctor simply watched amusedly to wait for Ezio's freak attack when Deadpool didn't die.

"Ah yes, I remember Cable!" The Doctor said in an upbeat manner as the apple charged "I met him in New New York one time not too long ago. Well, technically, it's been destroyed so many times that you should call it New New New New New New New New York, but that's inconsequential. It's actually quite an interesting city, or at least it was before a drug-transmitted virus called Bliss kill everyone. Yes, always keep track of your emotions or they will indeed kill you. I remember one time back on Skarro-" As The Doctor droned on, the Apple charged and Ezio blasted Deadpool in the chest with a beam of pure energy, sending the red vigilante flying ten feet backwards where he skidded across the grass. To make sure he was indeed dead, Ezio ran across the field and drove his hidden blade through Deadpool's temples. There was absolutely no way Deadpool could survive that one. The Doctor figured that it would be best to go find someone else to talk to while the two of them duked it out, so he walked away towards more gunfire.



"No no, there's a...a mechanism." John began about Leo "He's a demigod, a son of... Hephaestus. You know, God of forges and fire and...stuff". John was fairly certain that he had read one or two of Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson books, explaining how he knew this, though the name Leo didn't jump out at him. Then he realized...the rest of their company. Some sort of crazy lunatic was firing weapons at the group and apparently failing due to some sort of forcefield, and now there seemed to be another Sherlock-type character in their midst now. Just great, two Sherlocks he thought. Though, he was almost certain that Sherlock would have a reason for all of this.

"So what's the reason, Sherlock?" John asked, looking around at the chaos "What's the reason? Shared drug induced hallucination; Baskerville drug, maybe? Perhaps just some trick of Moriarty's and the chick with the gun is firing blanks? I mean, there's no possible way that we're really in a parallel universe with book characters and stuff, right?"

"Not entirely, Mister Watson!" A friendly Scottish voice piped up. The Doctor came ambling across the grass towards the crowd containing Leo, Jinx, Sylar, Sherlock, and John with a smug grin on his face and screwdriver in hand. He was absolutely beaming with joy as he saw John and Sherlock standing there with the others. He was actually looking at Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. John blinked in bewilderment as he looked back at the Timelord who was smiling so happily. Eventually, The Doctor extended his hand to John, who grabbed it half-heartedly due to shock.

"Mister John Watson!" The Doctor said "It really is a pleasure to meet you! I'm the Doctor!"

"The Doctor, yes, I...know." John said, still amazed at the fact that he was having a conversation with The Doctor "Sherlock! Look at this! It's actually him; the Doctor! The guy from Doctor Who!"

"Doctor what?" The Doctor asked back curiously.

"You...you're from the television show on BBC, Doctor Who. You go on adventures and fight aliens and travel around in the...the box-thingy. The TARDIS. Say, where is that anyways? Did you hide it in a fobwatch or something?"

"Ah, I'm afraid my TARDIS has gone missing. I got in the crossfire of a fight between the Sontarans and the Cybermen. You said a television show?"

"Yeah, I watch it all the time while Sherlock rants about Dalek speech patterns and why you don't just bash the Weeping Angels in the head with a sledgehammer to kill them instead of running from them".

"That's not a bad idea, actually." The Doctor said, smiling a little brighter. He then moved to engage Sherlock. "Mr.Sherlock Holmes! It is an honor to meet you! I'm The Doctor!"

(Behold the 2,389 word long wall of verboseness. I think I've officially given myself carpel tunnel.)

For anyone who does not wish to read all 2,389 words of this post, if you scroll down to the red arrow, that's where Sherlock first says anything. I will not be offended if you don't want to read all the boring conjecture stuff I enjoy writing, apparently a little too much.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as the 'Telekinetic Etc.' corrected him on the mind reading assumption. Even though he had mostly said that to prove to John just how ridiculous this whole situation was, he mentally kicked himself for getting that wrong. Normally, this would be followed by him muttering angrily to himself about how there was always something he'd miss, or in this case, misinterpret, however it was when this mystery person -who he could swear that he saw in some silly superhero/mutant movie or TV show but hadn't seen the importance of so deleted almost all memory of it- didn't give their name, exactly as the blue haired serial killer had done, along with nearly every really guilty person he'd met -which was a lot of people-, that he became suspicious and decided that probably wasn't altogether a smart move. However, this person was different than her in that he was dressed like a normal person, albeit he did seem to have a preference for darker colors, -which, he wasn't really one to judge as he did the exact same thing- and was a bit over clean as if he was there to make a specific impression -again, he really shouldn't be judging on that. At least the stranger probably didn't go so far as to wear a suit and trench coat to the beach on more than one occasion, even if those occasions were because of dead bodies washing up onshore- but other than that, the telekinetic seemed completely at ease with the situation. Even thought that almost defiantly meant that he had been in situations at least as weird and potentially unpleasant as this -which, given his mutant status was only to be expected-, it hardly merited the assumption that he was the antagonist in his story.

So, Sherlock decided to put forth a small test to see just why this stranger omitted stating his name even though he was providing key information that he probably wanted to be accredited with as was standard behavior amongst human beings. However, when the cyborg woman spoke up, he decided the test could wait until later based upon how well the information she provided correlated with the Telekinetic's.

True Night wrote:

Er yes, I am gathering information of everyone."

Good, no second intentions there, bit unhappy with being called out like that but at least she's inclined so far to be honest even if it is a bit uncomfortable, now what information does she have?

True Night wrote:

"According to the extranet you're a recreation of a classic detective from the 1800's that is set in what you four call modern times. To me that was over 200 years ago."

Okay, that's interesting. It would indicate an intermediate universe containing all the writers, script writers and story tellers separate from the universes of their fictitious characters with nothing truly interesting happening inside in order for them to bother with recreating someone like myself or Watson. That's probably not the universe we're in now though, both because it sounds far to adventurous to harbor people bored enough to write these kinds of stories and since, as stated by the Telekinetic, we're not the first nor will we be the last but something's happened to the other characters from other stories, probably nothing good if we're not the first or the last. It suggest that we're replacements for something and will be replaced soon after we're no longer serving the intended purpose of why were were brought here. Hopefully that just means we get sent back, but that's a bit doubtfully seeing the type of people that have been brought here include such things as serial killers and major protagonists... I truly hope this isn't some sort of trans-universal roman gladiator type situation. I only have so much Thermite and Chloroform on hand...

True Night wrote:

"Her name is Jinx and she's from a game called League of Legends. It says that her character was influenced DC characters by the name of Joker and Harley Quinn. No idea who those two are, or what DC is, but I could find out."

At this, Sherlock had a much better idea as to how to test the honesty of the telekinetic, he'd simply ask her to search the extranet for him and find at least a name, or a pseudonym, but not before he had tested whether or not the telekinetic would supply him with his real name or a pseudonym to start with, basically to determine how much he could trust him and to be able to better predict his actions in the future. However, he really didn't want to ask the cyborg in front of the Telekinetic as that would raise unnecessary suspicion that he really wasn't in the mood to deal with.

True Night wrote:

"Oh yes. I'm Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, but you can call me Tali."

Honest, if not a bit forgetful of social norms, possibly because of the way she was raised or because of societal status. That is a rather popular plot device writers like to use in Sci-fi fiction.

Sherlock decided that it was probably a social norm to respond to people when they introduce themselves, even if they don't actually do any introduction themselves and just state interesting, but still 'background facts' about the environment. He looked pointedly at the Telekinetic again, but realized he was being extremely hypocritical as that was exactly the same way he generally introduced himself, sometimes because he forgot to say who he is because generally people don't care or he doesn't want them to know, but more often than not he wanted to see if anyone else knew who he was. Egotistical yes, but it could be entertaining in situations like the conversation he had with Leo a few minutes ago. He didn't seem to notice that Tali hadn't so much as looked away from her holographic readout once. Probably because he was much to same way with his phone when it had access to the internet.

However, for the third time today, just as he was about to say something very long and planned out to the end detailing an answer to Leo's question about the plausibility of leaving and a response to both Tali and the Telekinetic's statements, he was rudely interrupted. This time by John, demanding a reason for why they were 'seeing things' before proposing a ridiculous yet understandable theory about Moriarty and the Baskerville Hallucinogenics, despite the fact that the Baskerville experiments were pretty much the only case they'd had in which Moriarty didn't have a finger, either his or that of some poor sod who was currently missing a digit, in the pie before it was even fully cooked.

However, before he could finish amending his, dare he say it, speech to include an answer to that, he was usurped by the 10th reincarnation of The Doctor. Now THIS was going to be entertaining.

Death wrote:

"Mister John Watson!" The Doctor said "It really is a pleasure to meet you! I'm the Doctor!"

Sherlock snickered a little when John practically melted into a fan girl puddle on the floor and from then on believed whatever The Doctor said, including that there was 'Not entirely' no possible way that this could be a parallel universe, that the TARDIS wasn't here, that it had been lost in a battle against Cybermen and Sontarans, which Sherlock thought sounded much more ridiculous than how he would have explained it. He also found it ironic that John was so ready to believe anything The Doctor said, as one of his so-called 'rules' was that The Doctor tells lies. So why wouldn't an imagined one do the same? However, apparently fangirlism is a logic inhibitor so that probably never crossed John's mind.

Either way, standing before him looking a bit over eager was a perfect opportunity to correct every error he'd either seen or heard from another room in the entirety of the silly TV show.

First on his list were Daleks since John had already stated how he thought the Doctor and his various companions should have gone about defeating the Stone Angels.

He gave Leo, Tali and the Telekinetic an apologetic look, making a mental note to answer them next before turning back to look at The Doctor and launching into what he considered, a short, and socially acceptable 'assessment' of a few of the things that could have been done better in regard to the Daleks;


---->


"I think you can tell from the way John here has melted into a fan girl puddle on the floor that the honor goes both ways. Although I do know of a few discrepancies that have occurred in your show/universe that I believe could have been handled better. An example being the fact that your time machine is capable of space warpage and a teleporter link in order for it to appear to be, as all of your companions incorrectly assume; 'Bigger on the inside.' which, is untrue because technically the 'outside' is another ship entirely which is linked to the 'inside' which is, again, another ship in a self repeating time bubble somewhere undisclosed linked to the 'outside' through a teleporter construct -the ships door frame, I would think- thus why it is exceedingly hard to break into the Tardis because you'd be trying to open two sets of doors that exist in the same spot but seperated by time so you're really trying to open the door to the tele-"

He cut himself off, realizing a little belatedly that he'd gotten side tracked and gone off on a tangent, before amending his mistake and continuing;

"Anyway, you already know that so I'll get to my point; If your ship can warp space time to that extent, -which I'm sure takes a massive amount of power to do- and also contains several sets of teleporters, how come you can't simply modify those to be able to teleport objects from outside your ship inside after scanning them to get exact data on their molecular structures? It wouldn't take any more power than it does every time your ship travels 5 minutes into the future, and could be used to great effect against Daleks, Cybermen and anything with a distinct organic controlling section that is required to make the mechanical segments function. So, what's stopping you from simply teleporting the brains out of Cybermen and the squid out of a Dalek? Their individual suits wouldn't have enough power to prevent an object from being teleported both in or out of their suits seeing as a large burst of gamma energy -as was clearly being used in the episode 'The Stolen Earth' by Rose Tyler- can punch a massive hole in them which I'd attribute to the fact that gamma radiation moves at the speed of light. Although that isn't how they pictured it in the TV show as it would likely be anticlimactic if the massive, and I quote John here: "Badass" gun appeared as though it wasn't shooting anything at all. Also, while I'm on the subject of Daleks, why don't you guys just wear mirrored suits when fighting them? Their poorly explained 'extermination ray' exhibits no traits of any thermal heating on the targets they hit, instead it appears to be some kind of radiation and laser combination in which case a lead layer in the mirrored suit would render their death rays pointless."

Sherlock stopped, apparently finished with his 'short assessment', and looked The Doctor over skeptically before adding;

"Although I don't suppose anything I'm saying now would be used in future as it would destroy much of the melodrama of the show as well as kill off a good many future plots."

Then, still having Leo's question about the possibility of leaving to answer and a experiment to run on Mystery man, he figured since everyone would view The Doctor as the more experienced one in the aria of getting stuck in alternate universes, he figured he should probably answer only half the question and leave the rest of it up to The Doctor to finish.

"Oh, Leo, Tali and-" he paused, looking over at the Telekinetic and feigned -a bit to sarcastically to be very convincing- trying to think back to remember if the Telekinetic had given his name or not, before continuing with a vague gesture in his direction saying "-Mystery man here, were discussing what we're likely here for and if we can leave within any decent time limit. I'm thinking that we most likely can leave one of two ways:

(1: Given the full cooperation of everyone here and a rather large amount of time to set up some way of getting back your TARDIS, I believe we could pull off a rather messy escape seeing as a few of us are of the serial killer variety."

He shot a look towards Jinx, leaning over and picking up the short metal 'walking stick' from where he'd set it on the ground, pulling a plug out of the top identical to the ones inside the bag he'd stashed in his coat pocket, and removing the bag containing the grey powder and poured some of it inside the 'walking stick' before sticking the top back on before continuing talking.

"(2: Given that everything goes to hell in a hand basket because, as Mystery man stated earlier; 'We're not the first group to come here, nor will we be the last' that makes it look an awful lot like we're the replacements for the first group and they'll be replacements for us when we stop serving whatever purpose whoever brought us here intends for us to serve, which, given the fact that-" He looked around almost sarcastically as if it was somehow funny- "I don't see anyone from the first group, anywhere, I would hazard a guess that whatever we're here for will probably end with us leaving -albeit not the way I originally implied- even if option 1 doesn't pan out."

Of course by that he meant that they'd probably all die horribly but at the moment he was more concerned about seeing how Mystery man would react to his new pseudonym and what The Doctor had the think about the issue than eminent death.

Engineer and Kongu

Engineer was dumbfounded that so far the robot seemed to have a personality. He needed to learn these things from this robot, perhaps what kind of metal it's made of, who programmed it, how it's able to have such a human-like personality. Those questions needed to be answered. He wouldn't rest until he found out all of those things. With that knowledge, he could make Redmund the victor of the gravel wars. He chuckled at the thought of controlling one of those bots and beating the crap out of that good for nothing frenchie on the BLU team.

Kongu stared at the Engineer. His look of confusion intensified. He had no experience with these kind of beings. He assumed they were like him since they were sentient, but he could have been wrong. Kongu responded to scout, "I am the Toa Inika of air. You may call me Kongu." His green kanohi looked rather angry. He didn't try to look that way, it was just how his mask was formed.

Ankha

Ankha was strolling for a considerably fair distance. She grew tired of walking. The cat came behind the REDs and tugged on Medic's lab coat, "Why, excuse me dear peasant, but do you know where we are? I wish to go home. Since I am the only figure of authority here, I suppose you'll have to follow the empress's orders." She shouted an order at Medic, "Carry me, peasant!" She put her nose high in the air and tried to look fancy.

Engineer

Engi noticed the small cat barking, or rather "mewing" orders at Medic. He smiled and thought it was cute, "Ain't you the cutest little thing." He chuckled.

Kongu

Kongu was about to answer when he saw another creature. It looked fluffier than the others. A blue spark crawled up his neck, signifying that his powers were coming back.

When Medic introduced himself to the robot Chopper suddenly got really excited. He kept rather quiet however, maybe still fearing the robot even after it introduced itself. Instead Chopper just kind of blissfully shifted his weight from one side of his body to the other, swaying. It wasn't often that he ran into other doctors. Yep that's right, the reindeer has a degree in medicine. He hardly even notice the talking cat. Because to a reindeer all animals are talking ones.

Scout spun around, spotting Ankha, who appeared to want Medic to carry her. He rolled his eyes. So apparently she thought they were peasants. That irked Scout a bit, but he let it slide for the moment. There were so many strange people around, some of them not even human, and he wasn't sure what to think. None of the nearby ones seemed to want to kill him, but... He still seriously disliked the whole situation.

"I don't get it," was all he mumbled, failing to elaborate on what exactly he didn't get. That would be just about everything, at the moment. He hoped they could go home soon, as he felt no need to learn why they were there or who any of these people were. He didn't generally feel the need to learn much of anything, and he could easily ask Medic or Engineer for any information he didn't have.

Chopper, growing tired of his current form, transformed back into his normal form with a poof of smoke.

Transformation yay:

He pranced over towards the medic, who he now regarded with a much more friendly tone. He tugged lightly on the hem of medic's coat, grinning up at the tall human. "Mister human! Mister human!" Chopper called up at him. "Are you really a doctor?" Chopper had a huge grin on his face, as if he was suddenly given the greatest gift in the world.

Chopper grinned, getting the answer he wanted. He walked around the medic, as if trying to prove he really was a doctor to himself. After sufficiently looking at the medic, Chopper stood infront of him, grinning. "Well I'm glad! 'Cause I'm a doctor too!" He took off his backpack, showing the white cross on the front of it. "I almost forgot that humans can be doctors too."

He paused his celebration to ask a question back. "What do you mean by type of doctor?"

Sylvanas Windrunner stood at what a circular table with several others. The table was actually a map, used for war tactics. It showed many lands that the Horde and the Alliance had captured and showed several neutral lands, as well. Among the others at the table was an orc who seemed of obvious high ranks, a troll, a tauren (which is a bovine –like humanoid), a panda-like humanoid known as a pandaren, and several others who seemed of high ranking in a military. Behind Sylvanas was a gruesome humanoid that was quite comparable to a zombie. Its skin was a sickly green color and its eyes literally blazed with magic. Some say its eyes had such a strange glow to them because it was its soul, a sign of life. Others say it is nothing more than dark magic, employed by none other than Sylvanas. The humanoid was apparently male and had dark blue hair that held in clumps on his deteriorating body. The humanoid had a torn jaw, yet didn’t seem to notice. He stood with an obvious slouch and even had a few bones protruding from his back. His clothing was in rags, revealing his non-existent stomach. By nonexistent, it is not over-exaggerated. Where the humanoid would have his stomach, instead it was caved in as it would for a rotting corpse, making his ribs severely perceptible. The creature was none other than one of the notorious Forsaken- undead, is what they’re also called. Souls that couldn’t escape the dead’s body are stuck in forms comparable to this one.

The group seemed to be arguing about something, and Sylvanas was in the center of the conflict. She seemed despite the evident sense of anger was directed at her, calm and sure of herself. Her face held a stern, no-nonsense look, though the side of her mouth would twitch every now and then as if she knew a secret about the others that gave her the upper hand in the predicament. This may have been, in any case, the truth.

“We hear that you are still going behind the horde’s backs and creating Forsaken from the souls of the dead, Sylvanas, instead of letting the process come naturally! Last time, we pointed it out yet did nothing to stop you because you did it due to the fact you may have lost the battle at that time if not for raising them. Now, however, we will not let it pass!” The orc who, as stated earlier, was the obvious one in charged, seemed to be the leader of the argument against Sylvanas. Several others around the table were casting weary glares in her way, as well. The orc continued talking, “This time it was just for the sake of your selfish yearning for revenge. You are becoming no different than the Lich king, who took soldiers from the battle fields- even your own undead- and tortured them to death, only to turn them into death knights for his own army! What ways are you different from him?!”

Sylvanas couldn’t help but smirk. “I’ll tell you now exactly what I said when you asked me before about this, Garrosh. The difference is that I serve the Horde.” She gave the orc we now know of as Garrosh a mock salute, just as she had done before. Garrosh was obviously displeased with it. “This is your one warning. Next time, remember that we won’t take kindly to this if you continue, nor will we hold back in considering you part of neither the Alliance nor the Horde and succeed in overthrowing you and finding a replacement for the undead in Undercity. You are now dismissed.”

Sylvanas walked out of the room, the Forsaken soldier following her. As they left, the undead humanoid spoke to her in a hoarse voice, “Well, Lady Sylvanas? What are you going to do in response?” She was glaring straight ahead at the portal to Undercity, the capital city for the Forsaken, with fire in her eyes that matched her red hood. “They can’t order me. They are well aware that I am perhaps the most powerful of all of them. However,” Sylvanas closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowing being the only sign of annoyance. “I will stop raising them for now- but only for the sake of the undead. If the situation sees fit for it, I shall use dark magic again.” “The best that I expected from the banshee queen.” Sylvanas merely nodded as she stepped into the portal, only instead of appearing in the Undercity, she found herself in laying in a field of… mostly humans.

Well, actually, where Sylvanas found herself at there were only humans. Two males, to be exact. One dead, one with a hood. These humans certainly seemed different. While the human race was part of the Alliance, these seemed to be lacking in the natural characteristics of both Alliance soldiers and commoners. They had unusual garb on them. While the one with the hood seemed closer to the natural human attire, it still was lacking in several properties. Such as magical properties, for example. And the only way it truly was alike was the hood. And even that was lacking in areas. They obviously weren’t a part of the Alliance, but also weren’t a part of the Horde. Sylvanas stood up, grabbing her bow that was lying right beside her. Ow, her head hurt. No matter- there were more important matters at hand. For example- she needed to get back to the Undercity and tend to several problems at hand. Trying to convince different neutral pandarens to join the Horde and the matter of facing the Alliance were some of the matters, along with other political problems and financial- not to mention war tactics. Those are always needed.

Sylvanas faced the one that was still living, unfazed by the dead, masked human, and sent him a threatening gaze, making her eyes glow by sending extra mana through her system- which is easy to do as she was, in some way, a Forsaken-and she let her voice ring out. “Tell me where I am, human, before you face the wrath of Sylvanas, the banshee queen.”
-
Leo
-
Leo sighed, the conversation getting all too boring as cello didn’t feel like posting a long post for him. “So,” he grinned, pulling out some taco shells from his tool belt, “Anyone hungry for some taco or veggie burgers? I could probably make something else, as well..... but I haven't tried any other types of food, yet.”

Chopper looked up at the medic with wide, kid in the candy store, eyes. He was a huge kid at heart, and was rather excitable. He rarely got to speak with other doctors, as many doctors hate talking to outlaws and were more likely to arrest him then have a nice talk. And to Chopper, the medic didn't really seem like a bad guy. To him all doctors had to have some sense of goodness. He looked at the bag in his hands, undoing the ties and dumping all of its contents onto the grass.

"Just some basic stuff, I appeared here with what was on my body. Most of my best medical equipment is back in my quarters."

He began to sort through the contents in the grass, reorganizing them. There was a large medkit, which popped open from suddenly being tossed to the ground. Inside were assorted bandages, herbs and a mortar and pestle. There was also a small clear bag with small golden balls in it. It was obvious by the stuff in his bag that the medicine in his world was rather undeveloped, unlike medic and his quick fix.