Summary:Arrow and Phoenix venture into the unknown.. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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STATEN ISLAND:
This time of night, even though there are many SHIELD workers about, it seems scarce in the form of conversation. This particular anomaly was something unique in so much that when Jean asked Charles if she could investigate on her own, he readily and happily gave her permission, with a very large interest on reporting what she finds.
And if she can help, good.
Though the option was left up to her to reveal her identity to their SHIELD counterparts, which she readily declined. So the basics were put forth to conceal such, with a very pointed mask that covers her eyes, the typical soft green skirt uniform with the emblazoned phoenix stamped across her chest. Granted, she looks like a gogo dancer, and she hated it, but she was most recognized in this form.
Her thick, red hair remains in perfected waves that dance along the middle of her back, trimmed yet in need of a cut. And as she stands near to the outer edge of the barrier inside of the safe zone, she considers a few things. Should she go in alone.. or.. take a partner..
When SHIELD reached out to the Green Arrow, he was initially reluctant to respond, much less cooperate. He's not exactly known for being a team player. But to be fair, he's well-equipped to handle the environment in question, so he's agreed to occasionally serve as an escort for their agents and affiliates.
The warrant officer who briefed him this evening was sparse with the details. Show up. Keep people alive. Report back to HQ.
After a brief discussion about giving orders, taking orders, and his position outside of SHIELD's command structure, he showed up on site at the appointed place and time. He's quiet when he approaches, but it's the tread of a man who always moves silently rather than a purposeful stalk. "Nice outfit," he says by way of greeting.
"It's not my choice." Actually it is, in fact, she's been out of the game for so long that she -is- due for another upgrade. "Plus, it's the only one we have in my size." Great. From what she's read of the reports and the briefing, what she currently wears won't matter. It was just that the hope that the fantastical anomaly would change it into something more.. gown like.
Finally, she turns to address her escort, her smile warm, necklace missing from her neck but a permanent scorch mark of ice left in the shape of the stone there..
Her skin was pale enough, the damage (emotional as well) harsh enough for it to remain.
"Call me Phoenix. Or P. Or Pho. Though, I do want Pho right now.." She kids, a half laugh and a smile, her gloved hand reaching out to possibly hold his. She doesn't shake..
"You're Green Arrow?"
Stupid psychics..
As always, the Arrow is spectacularly green, albeit in a darker, more foresty shade. His bow is slung over his shoulder and he has a belt bag at the small of his back in addition to his usual gear. Otherwise, he seems at ease for a man about to dive headfirst into a fantasy realm.
He glances down at the offered hand, then takes it, and gives it a quick squeeze. "Per the outfit," he verifies. "But Arrow will do."
He's already looking at the barrier again. "You're a psychic, among other things." It isn't a question. "I do my homework. I'm going to assume you know who I am, but I wouldn't take any uninvited trips upstairs." He pauses for a glance back at the Phoenix and points to his hood. "You wouldn't like the ambiance. So. You ready to get medieval?"
"That's actually a lot better." Jean comments, attempting to keep it all light. "You wouldn't call me Red Phoenix or Blue Phoenix.." Her jokes were falling flat, mostly like they usually would, but as he releases her hand, she puts them to the side and turns around.
It only took a bit to step back so that they could stand shoulder to shoulder, then slowly nods as he confirms her 'gifts'.
"I do know who you are, but it's a professional courtesy to not actually say." At least she admitted it! "And.. really, the ambiance is a way bit better than what I'm used to." She smiles sadly at that, a ghost of a one that he possibly didn't see. "But.. lets go. We have our stones from SHIELD, we probably have six hours to get in and get out before they fail and we're lost."
Though the vigilante's face is mostly obscured by his hood, something about Phoenix's words brings about a barely visible smile. "You'll do, Phoenix. You're right, let's go."
Without further ado, he steps through and changes… really not all that much. Oh, the outfit is equal parts Assassin's Creed and Robin Hood, but that could've been said about him a moment ago. He's still hooded and clad in green leather, although the kevlar from his costume has been traded out for cleverly placed armor plates to guard his vitals. A pauldron protects his left shoulder, but his right side is unencumbered. The band of grease paint across his eyes and cheeks has changed into a more elegant mask, and all in all he's a great deal more ornate.
Beneath the mask, though. Fire. Acid. A blade. The scars might have been made by one or another, but all of the above seems far more likely. He is, in a word, grotesque.
Jean smiles, though it was long after he went through the portal. She takes a moment to glance around, unsure, then slowly follows him through…
On the other side, her transformation was slight. Not by the way of clothing, but by the way of physical appearance. The mask upon her face disappears, the green color of it melding with her eyes to make them nearly glow and more sharp. Her ears, elongated and pointed at the top which gives her an elfen appearance. Her dress, emerald green, makes her somewhat of royalty. Though, she wasn't royalty, just a higher class citizen with a few that would fit into the in-betweeners setting. The scar upon her chest was still there, now forming into a heart, one that nearly glows and beats with intensity upon first passing.
That blue, icy light fades into nothingness, as well as the light within her eyes.
She takes that moment to study herself, then to study Oliver, she had no weapons on her person, which makes her slightly regret leaving everything behind.
"Goddamn it."
"My Queen, such language." Though they can't be seen, the scars must extend down to the Arrow's throat, because his voice is as harsh as it was when it was digitally scrambled. He touches his face and his brow furrows with concentration. Briefly, the scars disappear, but as soon as he relaxes, they return. "Interesting."
Like his ensemble, his gear has undergone fairly minimal changes except for his quiver, which holds the same number of arrows but is easily twice as wide as before. And rather than strapped across his back as it usually is, his sword is rakishly displayed at his hip. He brushes his thumb along the pommel, which now includes a garishly large emerald. "Alright, we need to move. You okay?"
"Tah!" Jean barks out in a half laugh, her gaze flitting across the horizon. Sure, there were people about that she could tell, but not outwardly in the open. There were tracks there, gone off in many directions. It seems as if they weren't the first to arrive. Clearly!
"Yes. I'm alright, it's all a little bit jarring." She confesses. "From the reports that I've received from SHIELD, it states that there's close to a two hour trek north. I don't know if anyones ventured east or if that's where the perimeter of the barrier is.. but.." She glances around, her eyes squinting, then gestures towards the large, dark woods.
"I'm very sure no one has ventured that far. It looks to be north by north-east." Yeah, cause who in their right mind would hit the spooky woods?
"Sounds fun." Who in their right mind, indeed? Ollie jerks his head in that direction. "Let's see how exciting this place gets."
An hour later…
"What are we supposed to be reconnoitering here?" he asks, scuffing at a pebble with his toe in passing. "It's been at least an hour and all I've seen is mud, trees, and some alarmingly large ants. For a fantasy, it's pretty boring."
…this was boring as hell.
Jean walks as best as she could, often times stumbling over her long gown, hiking it up so that she could walk occasionally, becoming increasingly hot.. cooling down..
She almost looks a right mess, clearly she doesn't belong here and was made for city living. But she makes due with a straight face and a stiff upper lip.
"So far, -my- orders may be different from yours. Observe, examine, report back, wait for orders.." She stops, then huffs. "However, my direction for adventure seems to be shot." Jean has to laugh at the irony, then gestures off to the distance. "I do see a clearing wide enough that forms a path, lets get on it. I feel like if I have to hop another fallen tree trunk I'm going to rip this dress to smithereens."
This elicits a snort from the Arrow. "Hold up." When he approaches Jean, he's holding one of his throwing knives. "Relax. This'll just take a sec. And I have similar orders. Mostly, keep you alive and report back on anything I see."
He kneels, tilts his head consideringly, then picks a spot at mid-thigh and slips the tip of his knife through a seam in her gown. A quick jerk and he has it slit open so she can at least take normal steps. Another slice and the dragging hem is removed. "There. Very fetching. Let's grab that path, we're burning through our time."
"At least we're on the same page." Granted, they were quiet most of the time, but at least Jean was in good company. She did what he suggested, she didn't pry or dive into his mind unannounced, and her empathy towards him was much on par with her own feelings. Meaning, they both were bored as hell.
As he begins to rip up her dress, there was a small sniggering fit, a clear laugh that sounds impossibly enchanting given her current 'guise'. She was an elf, which was clear, everything about them was magical.
"Who the heck uses the word 'fetching' now a da.." She pauses, then shuts up. "Alright, over here.."
The walk was quick, now that she could move with greater strides, the path leading to at least a ten house village that looks as old as the woods, haunted and worn down. Chickens that seem too skinny to produce any meat were wandering around, picking at dead branches and ruined leaves, dogs that limp about.. the errant, ragged cat hisses as they slowly venture forth..
"This place must be deserted.." Jean murmurs, then stops in her tracks. "I'm going to do a quick check to see if I sense anyone in the area." She wasn't going to tell Oliver what to do, the glimpse that she did get from him, he was more than capable..
Capable enough that he's already disappeared. A few seconds later, a soft whistle sounds out from high and to the left. He's found a cottage that while dilapidated, will hold his weight enough for him to stand overwatch. He waves to Jean, then flattens himself against the roof to minimize his profile. Close at hand, his bow already has an arrow knocked. There doesn't seem to be much to fire at, though. A bony cow looks up from a mostly dry patch of grass and MOOs mournfully.
"Christ, this place is depressing," the well-to-do hero mutters under his breath. "Though… that makes sense."
The only other immediate activity comes from a rat peeking out from between two ill-fitting shingles, but a glare and an angry puff of air from Oliver sends it scurrying back under the eaves.
All was quiet. Jean's eyes close as she feels the spark of the mind of Oliver leave her side. She's able to track his movements, her slight awareness for him leaves nothing but a tiny shiver or chill up his spine.
Her lips quirk as she continues to search, seeking out the darkness, the pit of death and heaviness, a feeling that she had felt once before, decades ago..
"Oh no.. OLIVER!" Jean screams out, which was hidden by the horrid shriek of something otherworldly, and a giant fireball that sails in her direction at atomic speeds…
TBC….