It was about half an hour before sunset when Harriet stepped into her greenhouse, sunglasses over her eyes and watering can in hand. She shuffled about, attending to all her lovely flowers. Her arthritis had been acting up badly that day, keeping her from her usual walk around the park, so it was all the exercise she was likely to get. The thought brushed through her mind that some day, it may get so bad she wouldn’t be able to do even that.
She chuckled the thought away. When she could no longer attend to her plants, it was probably time to get the shovel. Finishing her rounds, she turned and headed back inside.
Upon closing the door, her eyes not yet adjusted to the dimmer light, she thought she saw the silhouette of a small person, yet it seemed too small for any child capable of standing upright. What’s more, since her husband passed away, Henrietta lived alone.
Perplexed, she swept off her sunglasses, and was greeted by a smiling face she hadn’t seen since she was five: there, standing by itself in the middle of her kitchen stood her old rag doll, Josephine.
Any question as to how this could be was quickly dashed from her mind as the doll took a single step forward, and raised its fingerless hand up toward her. Where a thread of red yarn sat to suggest a smile, the fabric tore open to release stuffing and a single word: “Why?”
All around the city, folks began seeing strange sights. Eyes peering at them from around corners. Homeless people who were sleeping against the wall of a building when you glanced first, but gone when you looked again. Small dead animals getting up briefly to walk around, behaving as if nothing was amiss. Along one street, onlookers stared aghast as what appeared to be a baby with the exposed bones of its legs extended to three times their normal length ran the length of the street, making no sound.
Though the citizens of Gotham suspected some new experiment by Scarecrow, to those who saw it and had dealt with a boogeyman before, it felt all too familiar. There were a few, and they might have been so unlucky as to have witnessed a few of these events personally.
One might even have encountered a cat, killed more than a week ago by a bad encounter with a dog and already partially consumed by rats, crows, and decay. It walked up to them on its hind legs, like a human but limping horribly. Its remaining eye pleading, it reached its out with its forepaws and in a voice like a small child, managed to croak out “Please hold me. It hurts.”
One generally does not knock the door of public buildings, but the odd fellow that stood at the front door seemed a bit at a loss of what else to do. While clearly human, he’s covered in noteworthy details. Scars upon scars over dark-tan skin, enough muscles to suggest long days of fighting and labor, clothes reminiscent of a proper, well-kept gentleman, and finally, a blue gem set in the man’s collarbone.
He pushes up his glasses with a quiet sigh, and doublechecks the letter in hand.
Well, this seems to be the address. He gives a second, more confident knock at the door. In the meantime, he adjusts a cartboard box over one arm. Something about all of this felt a little ridiculous and strange. When was the last time Sakura had sent him on an errand like this?…
No matter. If it means keeping the crazed woman bedbound at home, and to properly recover as a result, so be it.
“Is anyone there?” His voice is deep, rumbling, and he speaks with a strange non-native accent. Rumbles mixed in with hisses, but it was by no means unpleasant. He at least, sounds as if he could get a few creative tones with that voice.
An anxious glance is given to a passer-by, before he looks back to the door. “Is this the residence of Jervis Tetch?”
It had been only 2 days since they recovered Dimitri from the alternate world. 2 days since they witness the Creator and his shadow army decimate, swallow, and destroy the entire plane of existence seconds before they had fled back to Furrae.
Sai still has a lot of work to do.
Tears flow from his face after he gives his wife a goodbye kiss – it would be a while before the two would be able to be together again. And without his usual flair, the sorcerer vanishes with the fog that rolled over the island.
As he steps from grass to cobblestone, he nearly looses it. He doubles over, screaming from his private study in the sharp emotional pain of the sacrifices he would have to make over the next couple of weeks just to make sure his wife and children would be safe from the Creator.
It takes minutes, but he calms himself. His eyes fall upon his desk, filled with numerous plans and drawings. These thousands of plans were doomed to fail – he had foreseen it. But he knows there has to be a way. There is always a way. Plan after plan, he goes through hundreds in seconds to determine their fate. Using every ounce of power he can invest into it, he searches and hunts for his answer.
Until at last it comes to him.
He paused. He goes over it again, every detail he could muster. Once he confirms it, he smiles wearily. He has a plan – it is still very risky, but it is better than the other plans he had come up with. Too tired to do anything about it now, he sits and meditates, gathering power. He is going to have to make a few calls in the morning…
[[Please note that in the Silverion Multiverse, each plane has a different ‘Ultimate Being’ of sorts - each one refers to themself by a title. The Vanguard and The Creator, for example. The Creator is by no means intended to be a religous reference.]]
It came as a blip on the radar, a quick jolt in the air. A moment where there was nothing but clouds hanging over the ocean, and then suddenly, a thing appeared in the sky.
A rather large thing.
It phased in through the air, at first as a multi-colored silhouette. It was large, and shaped like a wooden seaship. Once the thing took form, it proved to be in fact, rather ship-esque. But it hung in the air, and glided amongst the clouds; with translucent fish-fin sails catching the wind, and the under-hull riding nothing but air. It was an airship, through and through.
And it just phased into this world, from another realm beyond.
The ship was managed by a sole passenger. If the airship itself didn’t seem otherworldly, the vessel’s owner certainly did. She stood at the edge of the deck, arms crossed over the railing. Humanoid by all means, but the ressemblance to human stopped short at the possession of a face, arms, and hands.
The details were as followed: Sky blue peach-fuzz fur covered her entire body. A pair of curved ram horns crowned her head, and curled under pointed, swiveling ears. Reddish-violet hair was cut short, with a white patch of premature white. Her eyes were mismatched; the right yellow, the left blue, and either one holding green flecks of color over a grey-freckled face. On her back, a pair of white wings, the feathers turning more and more pastel green as they reached the tips. Moving on lower, she possessed a long chameleon-tail, spotted to the style of a snow leopard. Digitigrade paws finish off this alienoid being’s bodily details.
Oh, and breasts of course, for those who pay attention to these things.
The figure seemed clad in a royal blue longcoat, stylized to a noble’s taste. A green dress-shirt underneath, and black pants over her legs. An assortment of belts seem to carry pouches, a knife or two, and most likely a few other hidden weapons. Goggles at her neck, she seemed to be fitted for practicality, save for the extra necklaces and bracelets.
There was one last noteworthy detail about this freak of nature. A strange item was held in her hand. It looked to be some kind of elaborate, large pocketwatch. She would click it open, and observe the dials within. A soft glow emited from the device, soon to reveal two types of floating map displays.
Prince-Admiral Sakura Tama gave it a thoughtful stare.