Dark Side of the Moon [IC]

[GranspearZX]

Where am I...?

There was a distinct buzz of disorientation as Marcus felt himself regain consciousness. He was pretty sure he wasn't dreaming. The last thing he remembered was tossing and turning in his bed, and then the brief sensation of falling. He moved his right hand to push himself up off solid ground, eyes opening to see the half-inch high grass between his fingers. Unfamiliar woodland smells surrounded him; he rose slowly and brushed himself off, realizing he wasn't wearing much but a pair of ragged shorts.

Had he transformed and forgotten? How did he get here and not remember? The nature of his magic wasn't like that of lycanthropy, where he wouldn't have recalled where he'd been... or at least, that was how things had progressed so far. A chill breeze blew through the clearing, further cementing the idea that he was, in fact, not dreaming.

[GranspearZX]

Marcus didn't recognize anything. There was a faint twinge of familiarity, but for the moment, everything was dark. Moonlight illuminated the ground through sparse trees, and even the trees weren't like the ones in Wharton. He started to walk forward, nearly tripping on one of the large white stones nearby, circling the patch of otherwise unremarkable ground on which he'd awakened.

Did someone call me here? ...again? It occurred to him that this could be War-Earth again. As much as he liked the place, being sucked through the dimensions again to get there wasn't exactly ideal. He still had classes to attend, and he'd even started taking his art more seriously--after all, he was at Claremont on an art scholarship. He was starting to realize that his life was filled with distractions, and there were so many of them that he didn't know what he should have been focusing on anymore.

As he headed forward into the woods, he could hear rustling leaves and the occasional breaking of a branch. Marcus definitely wasn't alone...