No Place Like Home [IC]

[alderwitch]

(GM post)

Once upon a time - for that's how these things always start - the band of unlikely heroes known as the Interceptors found themselves waking in a world even more unusual than the admittedly extraordinary Freedom City. This world, in fact, was in technicolor.

They woke with around a small campfire in wooded hollow that looked like something straight out of an old movie set. The clothing too was that mix of theatrical take on some vague medieval era that never existed. If one, however, was a theater buff, it wasn't too hard to place their respective roles. Grim's long dress and trailing sleeves were a somehow untarnished white. Entirely unsuited for a jaunt through a forest and decidedly bridal, with Jill O' Cure dressed in suitable handmaiden's wear.

As for the other Interceptors, it wasn't too hard to divide them down to the appropriate roles of Hero (Colt), Kid (Dynamo), Stalwart Friend (Fulcrum) and Dark Loner (Jack of All Blades.

In the distance, the more keen of hearing would hear the baying of hounds and the distant sound of a hunting horn.

[Gizmo]

Taking in the scene in the clearing at a glance, Jack of all Blades sat up on his bed roll and sighed, placing a hand over his eyes. "Not again..." The swashbuckler paused as he withdrew his hand, blinking with his one uncovered eye. "Huh. Eye patch." He did indeed have a black leather cover over one eye, a thin cord looping around and under his cropped, dusty brown hair. His piratical, royal blue greatcoat lay nearby while the rest of his outfit consisted of a loose black shirt with a deeply cut neck crisscrossed with string and fitted pants of a similarly dark hue secured with a broad belt and tucked into tall boots folded over into cuffs. With his customary stubble intact, it hadn't taken much to make him the very picture of an outlaw swordsman.

Nearby, his sister had not been so fortunate, looking her attire over with a flat, "What." Jill O'Cure found herself adorned in a spun wool apron atop a deep red skirt that reached down to her feet, with a crimson corset over a billowing black blouse which look suspiciously like it had been borrowed from her elder sibling's new wardrobe. A pale grey linen head completed the uniform, managing to keep her unruly hair out of her face for once. "I do not do dresses, I do not do camping and I do not do camping in dresses because that is stupid."

Jack shrugged as he stood and donned his high collared coat, rolling his shoulders to drop the sleeves into place. "We do some sort of weird, fairy tale dress-up thing like once every six months or so," he explained to the disgruntled teen. "Dunno. I mostly blame Lynn." Waving his hand in front of him, he mentally tugged at the crackling campfire, satisfying himself that his powers were still functioning properly. With a frown, he cocked his head slightly. "Did anybody hear something?"

[Geez3r]

Eli for his part was sprawled out on the ground, face down blades of grass stuck to his face. He lifted his head just an inch or two off the ground, cracking an eyeball to see what was going on. His only response was a long, drawn out sigh, as if he wanted nothing more than to go back to bed. After a moment he stirred, sitting himself up right. He was wearing a woolen set of trousers, and a disgustingly dark shade of green to boot. He had on a long sleeved dark brown tunic that looked like a definite hand me down, given the number of patches on it, which made an ironic looking lightning bolt shape on his chest, and the fact that it looked a little too big for Eli, going several inches past his fingers and down to his knees. He also had a straw hat with quite a few holes in it attached by a draw string dangling off his neck. A hat he would probably wear when he was what a world without gel had done to his hair. "The heck do you suppose they want?" he said standing up, craning his head to see if he could find a clear spot through the trees.

[Dariusprime]

"It's Hollywood wanting their costumes back," joked Fulcrum as she emerged from behind a tree, bedroll over one shoulder and quarterstaff in hand.

Let's just say the book didn't know how to handle a Middle Easterner. Apparently Robin Hood stories and 1,001 Arabian Nights were liberally raided for inspiration. Her normal costume was traded for flowing navy-blue desert robes, a gold headscarf and a variety of colorful gems and jewelry. Combined with high, pointy-toed boots, she looked the part of a desert warrior princess.

Like Jack, she looked to be taking the whole ordeal in stride, bemused expression firmly fixed on her face. If anything her square-shouldered and alert pose almost looked fantasy heroic, almost like she short of dug the threads. Or maybe she was just glad she didn't end up in a dress. Sinbad-esque Little John was fine with her.

As for something moving about, she squinted through the trees and said nothing. "Morgan Freeman eat your heart out," she muttered to herself.

[Heritage]

I think I'm wearing a girdle. :evil:

Grim slowly stood up, her ridicuouly long sleeve things trailing down past her waist; if she pinwheeled her arms, she'd probably be airborne. To be honest, the dress was actually gorgeous, and she knew her dark brown hair looked good spilling down the length of her back in its natural curls. It just wasn't...her.

"We do some sort of weird, fairy tale dress-up thing like once every six months or so," he explained to the disgruntled teen. "Dunno. I mostly blame Lynn."

The changeling scowled at this not-very-serious accustation. "Hey, more than likely this is not my fault! It's probably has something to do with that darn book Talya brought over. Alright, these silly little slippers have to go..."

At least as a shapeshifter she had some control over what she wore; with but a thought, Grim's elfin figure was surrounding by swirling mist, which parted to reveal...the exact same outfit.

"What? No way!"

She tried again and again and again, but the dress remained; she melted down to goo, made herself into a pixie, a panther and chest of drawers, but whenever she assumed human form again, the Maid Marian look returned. The tiny princess stomped her foot in frustration.

"Argh! Not fair! Fine, y'know what, whatever; I'll deal." She did not look happy as she gracefully stepped to Colt's side, helping him to his feet. "How're ya doin', hon?"

When the others commented on the sounds in the dstance, she nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I hear 'em, too; sounds like one of those English fox hunts."

[quotemyname]

"Argh! Not fair! Fine, y'know what, whatever; I'll deal." She did not look happy as she gracefully stepped to Colt's side, helping him to his feet. "How're ya doin', hon?"

"Well, I reckon I could be'a mite better." said Colt from the side of the clearing opposite Fulcrum. He had been relaxing with his back against a tree before Grim had helped him up. "Y'know how'a get when I get ma guns taken'a way. But all th'same. Ain't no reason why I cain't make this work." Colt patted the side of his right leg, which was covered in close-fitting brown rough spun, as he said this. The rest of his team knew that this was where he normally strapped the holster for his pistol. There was a strap, and a holster, but it held arrows instead of a gun. A green tunic with bronze buckles lay across his chest. As he stood, he lifted a length of wood easily as tall as he was and propped it up next to him. "Ain't no where near's pretty's yours," He told Grim, "But I'll live all th'same." He propped the wood behind his leg, and bent it across his knee. He pulled a thin length of a wire-like material from one of the many pockets on his tunic. He looped one end around the bottom of the wood, and the other around the top. The length of wire stretched taught as he released the wood.

"All'n all, though," Colt remarked as he lifted the small green pointed hat from his head, and flicked at the feather it held with his finger, "I ain't too fond'a th'yankee doodle thing'a got here."

When the others commented on the sounds in the dstance, she nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I hear 'em, too; sounds like one of those English fox hunts."

"Well," Colt responded to his teammates, "If'n it's a hunt they're wantin', what say we go'n have'a bit'a fun? Let's give'em one!" Colt smiled. Despite the odd dress, the lack of guns, and the mixed opinions of his teammates, it seemed that he was determined to have some fun.

[Geez3r]

"Yeah, I'm going to go ahead and second Colt on that one there." said Eli slowly. "Looks like a hunting party, but they've got swords and crossbows, so I think they're hunting stuff that's a little less furry and a little more us-y." he explained. He also quickly added "Shut up. It's a word. They use "ye olde" here, it'll fit right in. So yeah, more go fast, we need it."

He paused for a moment as he scanned what his allies were wearing. "And why did I get stuck with the lamest outfit? Why do I have to be a dork in this universe?"

[Gizmo]

Giving Eli a long look from his one uncovered eye, Jack ultimately shook his head. "Too, too easy," he decided with a lopsided smirk as he turned to look in the direction the others had indicated. The swordsman couldn't see anything yet, particularly though the heavy foliage, but he readied himself to move nonetheless. "Not that we couldn't take a bunch of guys who've never herd of toilet paper, but we're kinda flying blind here. Stay and fight or move a regroup?"

"No sympathy," Jill grumbled sullenly to speedster as she lifted her heavy skirt up just high enough to move around the campsite without tripping on every loose stick or stone. "Not even a little." Taking stock of the situation, the teenage girl's expression set into resigned professionalism. "So what, we figure they're after the pretty pixie princess here? If we're getting our fairy tale on, we're probably supposed to make a run for it."

[quotemyname]

"That there sure is'a good suggestion," Colt opined, "I reckon I'm see'n'a small problem wit' it, though. Dynamo c'n run'n Grim'n Fulcrum c'n fly. But there ain't no MAVERIC here'n I got'a notion't wit'out wheels, th'rest'a us ain't so mobile." Colt shrugged helplessly.

Colt gazed towards the sound of the horns, "If'n they're fixin' on huntin', odds're they got them some horses. I know I ain't as fast's no horse. Hell, on'y horse I riden in ages's made'a iron. But that don't mean I don't know how'ta stop one." Colt drew an arrow out of the quiver strapped to his leg. "Here's my thinkin': Dynamo, Grim, Fulcrum. Y'all spread out'n see what'cha c'n find. We need ta know where we are 'fore we c'n go 'nywhere. Runnin' blind'll just get us caught faster'n a rabbit by'a coursin' dog." Colt knocked the arrow. "Jack'n Jill. Y'all're wit' me. Ambush time." Colt looked around expectantly, eager to see what they thought of his plan.

The Interceptors had no official leader. More often than not, they defaulted to whichever member blurted out the best plan fastest. After all, how many times had they found themselves in situations where they had very little time to react? Quick thinking had saved their hides more times than any one of their amazing powers. Colt was hoping to see that track record hold.

[Dariusprime]

Fulcrum just chuckled at the antics, nodded to Colt's suggestions and tried to lift off. Yes, tried. Which resulted in her hopping a good three feet straight up. Now that isn't an easy feat for mere mortals but did get the attention of the normally airborne heroine. She stood there, dumbly looking around, like her arm had fallen off or something.

"Okay, I don't like this world either now. Jack, how do you deal with stuff like this?" she grumbled, hopping around like a kangaroo reaching vainly for the heavens. After a moment, she sighed, "Looks like I'm with the hoofin' crowd."

Just as she turned toward Colt, looking defeated, she stopped suddenly. A fight with her bedroll ensued, during which she looked equal parts amused and angry. Sure enough, wrapped around the drab bedding was a woven carpet, richly patterned with gold and red motifs. "You've got to be %&@$ing kidding me."

Dropping it on the grass, she unrolled it with one foot, "I'm almost afraid to try."

[Heritage]

"And why did I get stuck with the lamest outfit? Why do I have to be a dork in this universe?"

Grim frowned and she looked at both her own and the younger Espadas' outfits.

"Mmm, I'm thinkin' you don't get to talk, Scarecrow of Oz; you cannot begin to understand how annoying this is."

"So what, we figure they're after the pretty pixie princess here? If we're getting our fairy tale on, we're probably supposed to make a run for it."

The shapeshifter made a disgusted face. "Ugh, I hope not, but you might be right. We better not be so trapped in our roles that I'm somehow not allowed to beat people up, because then I will frickin' flip out."

"Here's my thinkin': Dynamo, Grim, Fulcrum. Y'all spread out'n see what'cha c'n find. We need ta know where we are 'fore we c'n go 'nywhere. Runnin' blind'll just get us caught faster'n a rabbit by'a coursin' dog."

Sparkle Magic Princess Grim nodded. "Yeah, that works for me; we can do a lot more damage if we're airborne."

"You've got to be %&@$ing kidding me."

Dropping it on the grass, she unrolled it with one foot, "I'm almost afraid to try."

At the sight of the carpet, Grim's eyes went huge as she giddly jumped up and down, one hand thrust in the air. "Omigod, ohmigod, I call 'shotgun'! I've only wanted to be Princess Jasmine since I was five!" :awesome:

[Dariusprime]

Sailor!Fulcrum looked up from the carpet and smiled to Grim. With a great sweep of her hands, she said, "Your majesty, if you can get her to fly, by all means take her for a spin."

Stepping gingerly onto the ornate rug, she added, mostly to herself, "Because I have no idea what to do."

Though she did try a few tricks. Just willing it to fly didn't help. She just looked angry. Surfing it did nothing either. Telling it to "Go!" or "Fly"? Nottathing.

Listening to the approaching party, she looked back to Grim, still smiling, but with a defeated sigh, "Okay, Grim, she is all yours."

[Heritage]

"Okay, Grim, she is all yours."

Grim shook her head in mock disappointment.

"Nope, see you're not getting it; first off, it's your carpet, so you have to fly it. And second of all, you've gotta to sit on it, kinda towards the back, with your arms and legs folded and bellow out something like, 'Carpet, I command you to arise!' Y'know, get it the spirit of the thing; and don't be afraid to look stupid, because we're all bozos on this bus, as my dad likes to say."

She then seated herself at the front of the ornate rug with her legs primly folded, and shook out her hair so that it would blow dramatically over her shoulders once they were airborne.

"Ready for take-off, Cap'n Puffypants!"

[Dariusprime]

Despite their situation, Mona couldn't help but laugh, albeit quietly. She smiled and replied, "Looking stupid is my specialty. If I didn't do the whole 'flying hero' bit, people would start to ask why I end up flung headfirst through so many walls."

Fulcrum decided to get serious. Rubbing her hands together, she sat down on the rear of the carpet and crossed her arms and legs. In a serious, authoritative tone, she stated, "Carpet, I command you to arise!"

Nothing happened. She glanced around in uncertainty. Then her eyes lit up. She whispered to Grim, "Better hold on."

Then something was uttered, with just as much authority, but in Persian. The ornate rug shimmied and rippled for a moment...and took off like a jet plane.

[quotemyname]

"Well, I reckon y'all don't see that ev'ry day." Colt whistled as he watched that particular fairy tale in action. Like many things he'd encountered in this line of work over the past year, he'd just learned to accept, and not ask questions.

Colt heard the sound of thundering hooves in the distance. "Places, ev'ryone!" He quickly searched for a tree that would suit his needs. Finding one with some low hanging branches, and just enough but not too much foliage, he began to scale it. He climbed more like a monkey than anything else, putting his acrobatic skill to good use. Once he was high enough, he un-slung his longbow and knocked an arrow. There he sat, waiting to ambush their pursuers, hoping he wouldn't have to.