Jorge groaned as the darkness behind his eyes remained unyielding before his vision. The water bender had been trying to wake himself up, to will away the blackness that had shown up after the strange incident in the restaurant, but his body refused to move for him. It was as if his brain had been wrapped in a comforting, fuzzy blanket and it had completely disabled his ability to move or really even think coherent thoughts. The last thing that the detective remembered was that funny sensation, like vertigo, that suddenly struck him and now…he felt nothing.

But slowly consciousness began to return to him. The blackness was still present but he could feel his skin at least. He knew he was feeling it because he felt something scratchy being pressed up against his cheek. And slowly but surely, he recognized that sensation of pain and achiness in his joints and limbs. He felt as if he had gone on some all night bender and he was just now feeling the effects. God, was he drugged? And if so…why? Who would spike water?

It was then that Jorge could feel himself connecting with his motor skills again. His toes twitched, his fingers curled, his eyes lids struggles to lift, he was feeling everything again but boy was it sore. Moving his hands so that he could place his palms flat, Jorge released finally that he was on the ground. But on top of that that prickly, scratchy sensation was still persistent. A second or two passed and finally he realized what he was feeling…

Grass? he thought.

All over his face, the palms of his hands, the sensation certainly felt like grass. And on top of that the smell was undeniable as well. But…where the hell was there grass in the restaurant? Did he somehow manage to stagger outside?

This was foolish. He needed to wake up and open his eyes…NOW!

With a gasped, Jorge clutched the grass, coughed and slowly pushed himself up from the ground. The lawn he had been laying in looked partially wild, like it had not been mowed in ages. Curious. Coughing, he continued to move himself into a sitting position as he squinted his eyes, trying to adjust them to the bright light of the day. Hadn’t he gone into the restaurant at nig—

He paused and looked around him as his vision began to focus. All around he saw rolling hills of grass, thick trees, and well worn, dirt road to his left that cut across the landscape. Curiously the detective gulped and remained seated, trying to make sense of the situation. This place…it definitely did not look like New York.

“What the f—?” he muttered as he slowly, very slowly, moved himself onto his two feet. Gaze looking across the strange an unfamiliar horizon, he could only ask himself one obvious and confused question… “Where the hell am I?”

Streak could tell that he was lying down. When did I lay down? he wondered. He tried to sit up. Pain waded over him like a ocean wave. He struggled to remember what had just happened and how he'd gotten here. Had he just been drugged or kidnapped again?

He'd never hear the end of this if he'd been kidnapped and taken somewhere. He tried to move again. The pain was less and he was finally able to start to feel his surroundings. It was a little itchy but relatively comfortable. Streak took a deep breath. It smelled... Clean. It definitely didn't smell like New York. It smelled like there was no smog, no car exhaust, no...nothing.

The sun beat down on Shawn and he felt the heat being pushed off him with the cool breeze. Streak slowly opened his eyes. He was staring at a very blue sky as not much else. The sun was blinding for a second; however, he was soon used to the light and slowly sat up groaning. "Wasn't it night just a second a go? It might have been however, he didn't know how long he'd been out. It could have been hours.

Streak ever so slowly got to his feet. The grass was long and looked wild. "Where am I? The mid-west?" He started to walk and he started to feel better the more he moved around. In the distance he thought he saw someone. From as far away as he was he couldn't make out who it was. It didn't matter if this person was someone he knew or not but he hoped that this person at least knew what was going on.

Jorge groaned as he stood, peering into the distance and trying to figure out exactly what had happened to him. He really had no clue what was going on. Just one look at his surroundings and it was clear that he was not in New York, or any part thereof. The buildings were gone, the ambient noise was pure nature, and every just felt so…clean. He was picking up traces of water in nearly every direction and all of it was cleaner than he had felt in years. Jorge simply could not understand what was going on.

Rubbing his sore back, Jorge turned left, turned right, and saw absolutely no one. The only sign of civilization was the well worn dirt road to the side and nothing else. That seemed just a little surprising that there would be so little signs of actually living people around. Humans were everywhere. What, was he thrown into some eco-sphere or something?

“Hello!” he shouted to the horizon.

The only answer he received was the twittering of birds in far off trees. He had never before felt so completely and utterly isolated. It was almost as if he was on another world entirely.

Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, Jorge checked the reception…and found that there was absolutely none. He tucked the phone back into his pocket as he peered down the length of the road and shrugged, finally deciding to walk. He was not going to get anywhere just standing around. Hopefully he could find someone, anyone that would be able to tell him where he was.

The sun beat warmly upon his brow but the cool breeze that flew across his cheeks cancelled out any of the heat he should have felt. He really did not understand it but he felt so invigorated by the world around. He didn’t fully understand why but it was a feeling that he was more than happy to accept. And he would have continued to have felt that way if it were not for the sudden feeling of being watched.

A glance off to the side and he found the source of his being watched…a rather large man in a red coat and tattered pants. The odd thing about his clothing was that it did not look at all like it was from this century. As a matter of fact, he almost looked as if he had stepped out of some Renaissance Fair or something. He twirled his mustache and rested his hand on a sword at lay against his hip.

“Dios Mio…” he muttered as he watched the man slowly advance on him. “Hello there,” Jorge said suspiciously. He could still feel his gun in its holster pressed against his hip. He prayed this guy was not just about to get violent.

“’Ello, Spaniard!” the man bellowed with a cackling grin. “You seem very far from your own shores. And by your lonesome.”

Jorge was already not liking where this was going. He tried to feel out usable sources of water but sadly there was nothing close enough or sufficient enough for him to use. Subtly he slipped into a more ready position so he could grab his gun if need be.

“Such…amusing garb you wear,” the man announced as he eyed Jorge up and down. “Must have cost a fair amount of gold. Me thinks you…have a heavy purse…”

Out the sword was drawn.

Quickly Jorge reached into his coat and pulled his standard issue glock 9mm. He held the gun at the ready and pointed directly at the man. He had a clear shot and he could take the man down if he so much as tried to step towards him with that glorified letter opener he carried.

“One more step, pal,” Jorge growled, “And I’ll make sure you’re never able to dress up for one of these cheesy fairs again! Now! Where the hell am I?”

The man eyed the gun in Jorge’s hand and chuckled. Whether or not he believed that Jorge’s trinket was dangerous, it did not matter. He snapped his fingers and instantly, from the hills surrounding the road, Jorge watched as several armed men, bandits, revealed themselves with arrows pulled back tight in their bows.

Jorge groaned. He was not liking this one bit…

For some odd reason Streak felt invigorated now that he was up and moving. The soreness had worn off and he was now ready and rearing to go. Maybe it was the fresh air, or maybe it was the sun beating down without any hint of Global Warming to threaten him or maybe it was just the fact that he wasn't sure what was going on, that was affecting him. There had to be someone around to help him out. He'd never gone this long without seeing anyone in a long time. The last time he'd gone this long he was helping his faminly out of the farm.

The person, Streak saw in the distance was not alone anymore. Someone else had stepped out of the nearby trees. Did they both come from the trees? He wondered as he drew closer. As far as he could tell they were just talking...That is until he saw something familiar.

With the sun shining the way it was it was easy for Streak to see that the one closest to the forest had just drawn a sword. He'd been in enough altercations with police and military to know what that stance was. Someone had just drawn a gun. Streak began to hurry down the dirt road to see what was going on. Unfortunately he couldn't clear the distance in time so he decided to take a different approach. Streak created a silver bow and arrow, stopped his running, aimed and fired it high. After the arrow was launched he slung the bow around his body and continued running towards the two.

The arrow got there first of course, and it landed right between the two men. From his closer distance he could make out a few more features of the men. One was wearing a red coat and pants, from his distance he couldn't see the tears in the pants. The other was wearing pants and a jacket of some kind. At least that what it looked like.

Finally, after what seemed like minutes he was close enough to make out the one with the gun. It was Jorge. "Finally a familar face." Hopefully he wasn't to distracting, although he had to admit that arrown in between the two was probably a good enough starter distraction that his arrival wouldn't be that big of a deal.

Jorge sighed as he looked around the trees and hill. Several men were surrounding him, maybe five or six in total, all of which had arrows notched and aimed in his direction. It was really not the type of predicament that Jorge wanted to be in. He was confused, he didn’t know what was going on, and judging by the looks of these men, they were not play acting. Those arrows looked real enough but seriously, what the hell was going on? Why was he in the wild with several renaissance dressed men, all with murderous intent in their eyes.

Jorge narrowed his gaze as he kept his gun trained on the leader. His gaze glanced from left to right but he saw really no way out of this problem. At least no way that he was happy with.

“Which crown do you owe allegiance to, Spaniard?” the man in red grinned.

Jorge did not show any fear in his eyes. Instead he kept the gun trained on the leader of this band of thieves while he tried to think of something that would help him.

“Sorry, never been to England,” Jorge replied. “Especially not if people like you are from there.”

A look of confusion washed over the men’s faces as they looked and muttered to each other. Before long they began to laugh heartily, to the point that Jorge felt only partially offended. He didn’t think he had said anything that funny, but for some reason they were just laughing hysterically.

It was then that the leader just grinned and shook his head.

“Hear that, boys? It looks as if we stumbled upon an out right drunkard! Bwa hahahaha!” the leader chuckled. “Spaniard, how much ale have you had? Do you not even know WHERE you are?”

It was Jorge’s turn to be confused. He lifted his gaze to the man, his gun lowering just a little as he let the words sink it. At first he found it odd that they were accusing him of not realizing that he was in England. But it was then that he started to realize that something must have happened back at the restaurant. For whatever reason, Jorge was in England. The looks on their faces and the sounds of their laughter was all the proof he needed to accept this as fact.

“England…”

But before he would think too hard on the issue, suddenly there was the sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. Something swift and shiny sliced through the air before suddenly embedding between himself at the leader of the band of cutthroats.

For a second Jorge believed that maybe one of the bandits had accidentally fired early. But one look at the arrow showed that it shimmered and reflected quite brightly…like silver.

“What in the world…?” he started to say.

“Oi! Who have you got watching your back side?!” the leader shouted as he instantly drew his sword. “Tell them to back off! Or we’ll make sure each and every arrow is driven into your belly!”

“If I knew who they were, I would gladly do so,” Jorge replied. Talking was going to get them nowhere. It was obvious they didn’t believe that he was threatening enough so maybe…he would have to try something a little more drastic.

“Five seconds, Spaniard! Call your archers off or you shall die in their stead!”

Jorge closed his eyes and concentrated as quickly and as hard as he could. He let the sound of rushing waters and the feeling of ocean spray fill his mind. Instantly he could already feel the liquid taking over his body, the water form that wanted to be unleashed…

“Fire!” the leader shouted.

The first couple of arrows flew and Jorge heard the tear of his clothing, felt the initial piercing, but then felt nothing as each arrow simply displaced water in the shape of a man. Jorge smirked to himself as he opened his eyes. Quickly his clothes fell off of his form as a new, watery creature now stood where his body had once men. The constantly, swirling mass of liquid made him sound like walking tidal wave but Jorge only grinned as he looked between the now terrified men who readied themselves to reload.

He’d put the fear of god in them yet. But he hoped that whoever it was that had shot the arrow would appear so he did not harm him in the process…

"Merlin's bead! He's a sorcerer!"

Streak had arrived just in time apparently. He slowed his run and walked up next to Jorge. His silver bow was still slung across his shoulder and over his back. The arrows flew at Jorge and Streak was sure that Jorge was about to get impaled until he turned into water. Streak didn't know he could do that. He'd seen Jorge's powers before but he hadn't seen all of what he could do. This was definitely a new trick that Streak was seeing.

Streak couldn't help but laugh at the people. They'd obviously never seen a mutant before and he was willing to bet that they definitely hadn't seen two mutants before. His powers weren't being used right now but it didn't mean that he couldn't use them any time he wanted. " What is going on here?!" Streak exclaimed as he noted all the men starting to reload their bows. He'd only just arrived at the tail end of this Mexican Standoff and he was pretty sure that Jorge was about to win. He was a detective after all, he didn't really need Streaks help.

The young man took his bow off his back and held it ready to produce another arrow if he needed. It should have struck these men as odd that he was not only carrying a silver bow but he was also NOT carrying any extra arrows. It should have begged the question of where he'd gotten the first one from but he supposed that they were still a little too shocked at seeing a man turn into water to be thinking straight.

"We were just having a little chat with your finely dressed friend here. And I see your just as exquisitely dressed. Must be a fair bit of gold in your purse too me thinks." The red coated leader said turning his attention to Streak.

This didn't seem to be going anywhere good. Apparently they were more interested in gold than they were their lives. So Streak tried to convince them. "Haven't you noticed that you didn't hurt my friend at all? What makes you think that I will be intimidated by you or your archers either? But seeing as you folks have failed to see that you we're dealing with the greatest sorcerer in the whole world maybe I shouldn't stop him from sending you all to the see Davy Jones." Ok so maybe they didn't get all the references but he was in the zone and he was hoping that they would at least buy the act he was putting on.

Now it was true. He would get hit with a few arrows before he would be able to make a shield but him turning into silver along wi Jorge turning into water might be enough to scare them if they decided to press their luck any further.

>> "Merlin's bead! He's a sorcerer!"

Jorge grinned in his water form as he swirled and towered near the terrified men and their notched arrows. He didn’t know why he found this funny. It was as if these people had never seen a mutant before. But even if, why were they dressed like this and carrying around such crude weaponry? It was as if they really were stuck playing out some medieval characters out of some Monsters and Mazes roleplay or something.

The detective had heard of LARPing before but these people were simply carrying things too far.

Unable to speak in his watery form, the detective simply tried his best to play the part of an intimidating creature. The water swirled and splashed all around him but quickly slithered back in an attempt to stay attached to his body. His cold, blue gaps for eyes peered between each man, willing them to try attacking him again.

Yeah, these guys were SO under arrest.

But before any move could be made, a sudden and familiar voice bellowed out from the woods behind him…

>> " What is going on here?!"[/color]

>> "We were just having a little chat with your finely dressed friend here. And I see your just as exquisitely dressed. Must be a fair bit of gold in your purse too me thinks."

Jorge glanced over to see Shawn had arrived on the scene. So, the X-Man was actually carried away with him? Interesting turn of events. The last he remembered Shawn was seating next to him at the bar, enjoying some conversation when that strange sensation over took him. He wondered if Shawn too had been the victim of some drugging, and if so, why were they carried all the way over to England? If he even was in England. After all, bandits were supposed to be liars, correct?

Turning back to the conversation, Jorge watched as the men still had their arrows notched and aiming them all directly at both him and Shawn now. Though a smart man would have run away at the sight of a being made completely out of water, it was obvious that these were not exactly geniuses. The only thing they could focus on was the drooling thought of money.

Damn fools, Jorge thought as he began to stretch to his full height. Thankfully the water was able to stretch must making him look that much taller and that much more intimidating.

The water gurgled in a growling type sound as it bubbled around his throat.

>> "Haven't you noticed that you didn't hurt my friend at all? What makes you think that I will be intimidated by you or your archers either? But seeing as you folks have failed to see that you we're dealing with the greatest sorcerer in the whole world maybe I shouldn't stop him from sending you all to the see Davy Jones."[/color]

If water had eyebrows, it arched at the moment. Jorge glanced over his shoulder at Shawn and tried to stifle back a chuckle (or, in this case, a gurgle). Davy Jones? Greatest Sorcerer? It seemed like someone was watching too many movies. But the detective didn’t say anything, and not just because he couldn’t. It was obviously that whoever these people were, they were completely deluisional.

Playing along, Jorge leaned menacingly forward, the water churning and swirling within him to dangerous levels. Suddenly he pounded the dirt before the leader’s feet and let out another loud gurgle.

It was with that the bandits screamed and began to run.

The good news was that Jorge played a long. The thing that was even better was that he pulled it off. Jorge made himself larger and more intimidating in the wake of Streak's word. Soon Jorge pounded the ground in front of the leader. That seemed to be enough to get the bandits running.

Streak waited just a minute as they all ran away in terror. Once they were far enough away Streak started to laugh. It was just to funny. How could these people be so stupid as to have actually believed that he was a sorcerer. Maybe they were on some kind of drugs or something. "Alright Jorge I think were good man you can come back to normal."

It was obvious that Jorge could hear him because it worked earlier. "Ya know they never answered my question. I still have no idea what's going on." Streak commented as he waited for Jorge to return to normal.

The menacing water elemental watched as the gathering of bandits screamed and ran away from him. Jorge was not surprised since he was sure that he made quite an intimidating sight. Though he wished that one or two of them had managed to stay long enough for them to at least be able to learn what the hell was going on. All he was able to gather was that they really acted like he was part of this roleplay, renaissance faire type thing, and that they accused him of not realizing that they actually were in England. But that was crazy, right? How could he get to England and not realize it?

He let the thoughts pass as he continued to gurgle menacingly until the bandits were completely gone from sight. Once they were, and a moment or two passed, he heard Shawn laughing off to his side.

>> "Alright Jorge I think were good man you can come back to normal."[/color]

The large, watery head nodded as he pulled himself back to a smaller stature and focused. A second passed as the water took on a more solid shape before the crystal clear man that once stood there became dark with flesh colored tones. Before long Jorge had returned to his normal, human appearance…sans clothing.

Thankfully he had shifted back to human form a little behind Shawn and quickly grabbed his pants and slipped them on. He really, really needed to learn how to start shifting his clothes into water as well. Once his pants and shoes were on, Jorge relaxed a bit as he strolled over to Shawn’s side and started to button up his shirt again…

>> "Ya know they never answered my question. I still have no idea what's going on." [/color]

Jorge shook his head, a small grin on his face from the fact that he had still managed to scare the hell out of that group.

“I talked with that leader a little but…none of it made sense,” Jorge explained. “He said that we were in England and then he just kept going on about under which ‘crown’ I served. It’s like they were really into this Renaissance Faire deal, you know?”

As he said this, he stepped back to realize his foot was jabbing against something that was stuck fast into the ground. Tilted his head, he glanced over to see that he was staring at a large arrow that was embedded there, one of the ones that the bandits had attempted to skewer him with. Leaning down, he plucked it out of the ground and arched a brow as he looked it over.

Damn…it really…really looked authentic.

He held the wooden shaft up, twirled it and watched the sun above his head reflect its rays off the polished metal that made the arrow head. Confused, he held it out for Shawn to inspect, if he wanted to.

“I…think maybe we should get walking,” Jorge said as he pulled out his cell phone again. Again…still not reception. “There has to be other people besides that fun little group. Maybe…I dunno…maybe someone will know what’s going on…”

Streak was glad that Jorge had finally turned back to normal. It was way easier to hold a conversation with someone that could actually talk back. When Jorge slid up next to Streak, and finished getting dressed, he started to explain what he knew.

“I talked with that leader a little but…none of it made sense,”
“He said that we were in England and then he just kept going on about under which ‘crown’ I served. It’s like they were really into this Renaissance Faire deal, you know?”

"Ya it sure seems like their into something weird. I didn't realize people that LARP'd took things so seriously." Streak said before what Jorge had said really sunk in. "Wait did you just say we were in England? So...this isn't the mid west. Man I was WAY off." Streak said with a little chuckle.

Streak looked around as Jorge picked up the arrow that had been hot at him. After he was done looking at it Streak took it and examined it. [color-silver]"Well I hate to say this Jorge but it this arrow is real. It seemed that they're either too into this Renaissance Fair or we've been taken to some place where these people still think that this wold is stuck in the Renaissance age. Ya know like those people that believe it's like 1700 and they're pilgrims or something."[/color]

“I…think maybe we should get walking,”
“There has to be other people besides that fun little group. Maybe…I dunno…maybe someone will know what’s going on…”

There had to be a reason that Jorge wasn't getting any signal. Streak nodded. It was definitely a good idea to not stay here. If anything the bandits would probably come back with more people. "Ya let's get out of here before Robin Hood and his not so merry men come back." He could only hope that they would find someone that could tell them what was going on. Though one thing still puzzled Streak. Even if they had just encountered a group of people LARPing why wouldn't they have just called a time out or something to explain what was going on. And why did they act like they'd never seen a mutant before. Even if they were just Role playing one would think that they at least would act like they weren't so afraid of mutants.

Shawn looked to be just as confused about the situation as he was. How could be blame him? From what they remembered, mere moments ago they were both sitting at a bar, joking and talking when suddenly their worlds flipped upside down and they found themselves here. Shawn said it was the mid-west, Jorge heard the bandit leader say it was the England. The detective really had no idea which option to believe. All he knew was that when he looked up…it didn’t look like the skies above New York, Miami, or even California. This sky was different some how…

He glanced to Shawn and the X-Man seemed just as unsure as he was. But there was little they would accomplish just standing still.

The arrow was handed back…with the knowledge that it was the real deal. Jorge shook his head as he looked up to where the bandits had run off. They had REALLY just tried to kill him. If it had not been for his water form, he probably would be dead right now, riddled with a volley of arrows in his chest.

The whole thing was just getting too weird. These people, they really seemed to have no idea that he was a mutant, nor that he was a police officer and you simply don’t fire arrows at a police officer. The whole situation was giving him a very, eerie feeling.

>> "Ya let's get out of here before Robin Hood and his not so merry men come back." [/color]

Jorge nodded.

“Why don’t we try the other direction? That way, we won’t have to worry about running into them straight off,” Jorge explained as he turned in the opposite direction that the bandits had gone. If there was one thing he was not in the mood for, it was running into that lot again anytime soon.

Jorge sighed as he began to march in the other direction with Shawn at his side. It was odd, not hearing the ambient noise of civilization. It was truly like being isolated. He hoped that the next group of people they ran into was not going to be more LARPers.

As he walked, he arched his brow curiously as he felt more air flow than normal on his person. He glanced down and thought he saw a glimmer of grass through his clothing. He paused in his walking and pulled his shirt up to get a closer look. It was then that he sighed and muttered under his breath. Holding up the edge of his shirt, he showed Shawn the several holes that had been torn through thanks to volley of arrows that had been unleashed upon him.

“Can you believe this?” he asked as he dropped the edge of his shirt and shook his head, continuing the march on. “I’m so arresting someone…”

Streak was glad to see that Jorge was just as confused as he was. Until they ran into someone that didn't want to take their money they probably wouldn't get a straight answer. Streak followed Jorge's advice. Not standing around would be a great improvement over their current state.

Going in the other direction sounded even better than just standing around. After a minute or so of traveling Streak realized that he didn't hear the normal hustle and bustle of city traffic. It was even a little eerie how quiet things were. Stream liked nature but this seemed a bit much.

Streak looked at Jorge's shirt as he made an exasperated comment. "Just be glad that it's only the shirt that has holes in it and not you." Sure it wasn't much of a bright side especially considering they didn't know where they were or how they were going to get some replacement clothes.

"Any ideas what city we may actually have ended up in?" Streak was so confused that if they didn't meet someone soon he might just have a conniption.

>> "Just be glad that it's only the shirt that has holes in it and not you."[/color]

“You have a point there,” the detective agreed.

Jorge had to nod and agree with that statement. That was definitely one of the bright ways of looking at the situation. Since meeting that group, Jorge had simply assumed that they were a just a bunch of roleplayers, or something. The second that they had raised their arrows to him, though, he knew that something had to be off. He wanted to assume that they were merely plastic, that they were just carrying their game of pretend too far and that they were going to be hit with the solid reality of attacking a cop at any second.

But instead…the arrows flew. The last second Jorge took the caution of turning himself into water, just for precautionary reasons; and it was a damn good thing he did. Shawn was right, if he had not had listened to that little voice in the back of his head that was telling him that something was wrong, Jorge was sure that he would be dead now.

He shook his head as he glanced at his shirt once again. Arrests would most definitely be happening.

Onward they continued, stalking through the path. Jorge knew that moving was dangerous, especially when they were somewhere that they did not know. Remaining still made it easier for them to be found, but the last thing that either of them wanted was to be found by that crazed group of bandits again. So moving was their only option and the detective hoped that they could stumble upon something, anything that was useful.

Jorge sighed as he stalked up a small hill that the road roamed over. As he took the lead, he heard Shawn behind him…

>> "Any ideas what city we may actually have ended up in?" [/color]

Jorge shook his head. “I have no clue.” he admitted as he climbed to the top of the hill and turned away from looking at Shawn to survey their new landscape. “All I know for sure is—“

There was only stunned silence on his lips. He looked forward, momentarily completely forgetting that Shawn had been here at all, and simply could not believe what he was looking at. The road wound onward, through the fields of green before it paused on what he could only describe as a medieval settlement. Tall, stone walls surrounded the settlement of cheap houses while men in armor stood guard. The most shocking of all was that past all of the small, homemade homes, and stone structures, Jorge could see the tall, faded view of a massive castle with flags (each carrying the same coat-of-arms) wavering from its ramparts.

“You’ve…got…to be…kidding me…” Jorge muttered in a dumbfounded manner. All this was getting weird…to worse…

Streak was actually enjoying the walk they were taking. Not necessarily because of he company but mainly because he felt like he was in a cleaner place than New York and the feeling of being somewhere clean seemed to revitalize him. He listened to Jorge talk as they continued to walk through the grass. He noted the dirt road they seemed to be somewhat following as their journey continued. It was interesting that there was a dirt road but no people anywhere.

When Jorge came over the hill just shortly before Streak did he was almost run over by Streak himself. Currently he didn't see the giant structure that made Jorge stop so suddenly because as of right now he was getting a very in depth study of the back of his companions head.

"Yo use some break lights if your going to stop suddenly like that." Streak joked, moving to stand next to Jorge. As he did he saw the medieval village come into view.

He was in shock just like Jorge was. There was no sensible reason for this fully fortified place be here in this day and age. Unless they weren't in their day and age. "Hey this may sound like a dumb question but what year do you think it is?"

He'd never even seen a fake castle in real life let alone a real one. This was crazy. The silvermancer began to wonder if they should risk venturing closer or if they should try and go around it. Either decision could have serious consequences. "Is...is that what I think it is?" Streak asked not really believing what was in front of them.

"Maybe we should go in and see if anyone can offer us some help." Shawn suggested. After all they couldn't really get anymore confused than they already were...Could they?

>> "Yo use some break lights if your going to stop suddenly like that."[/color]

The words fell on deaf ears for Jorge Cervantes. The man stood there, staring at the impossible; a huge, medieval castle loomed in the distance ahead of him. He barely felt Shawn anymore, or any sense of who he was. Instead his mind warped into overdrive as he tried to make heads or tails of the situation. The man had never seen a castle in real life but she sure as hell knew that whatever that structure was ahead of them, it was not something that a bunch of LARPers paid for. That was simply too much to comprehend of.

The detective shook his head as he looked far ahead. He could see the tiny dots of people as they marched the ramparts, even those that were walking around outside the massive gates of the structure. It really was just….he didn’t have words anymore…

>> "Hey this may sound like a dumb question but what year do you think it is?"[/color]

Jorge blinked as he tried to make sense of what Shawn was asking him. The year? Obviously, he knew that. It was 2012. But looking at the castle with the people running around it, he had an inkling of what Shawn was trying to suggest.

Time travel? he thought to himself. There…but…it was impossible…right?

He shook his head in response to the X-man’s question.

>> "Is...is that what I think it is?"[/color]

“If you’re thinking you are looking at a castle, then yes, I’d think we’re on the same page.” he replied as he just continued to gawk at the image.

Jorge had seen movies like this, hadn’t he? Some unsuspecting person or a mad scientist or kid gets transporting into the past for whatever reason? Wasn’t one of the rules that you are not supposed to touch anything? The detective had read H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine, though that novel did not involve traveling back in time, only forward. But what if something he did in the past had grave ramifications to the future? There were just too many unknowns for him to feel comfortable, but it was not like they could just sit here on their hands.

>> "Maybe we should go in and see if anyone can offer us some help."[/color]

The detective sighed. He wished that he knew if the rules of time travel were definite or not. Though some small part of him wanted to remain skeptical, he knew that as the minutes ticked on that h3 had to accept the truth…maybe, just maybe they really were in the past. After all, if he could control water and Shawn here could coat himself in silver, who’s to say that some mutant cannot time travel? It would explain a lot.

Finally he just nodded to Shawn.

“Yeah…maybe you are right,” he said with a nod. Then he noticed their clothes. Those bandits had made some comments that made them stick out like a sore thumb. How would an entire castle and village react to seeing them? “Maybe…um…I dunno, maybe we should find clothes, something so that we don’t stick out so much.”