[Action / Voice] evening + morning

[selfhelp]

[...This doesn't look like Prison #42. At least, not as he recalls it. Billy pushes himself upright in the grass, squinting in the early evening light, and absently lifts a shaking hand to his ears. There's no device there, nothing to prevent him from casting any spells... a fact he proves to himself with a wave of his hand, conjouring up a shirt to go with the unfamiliar white pants he finds himself in. What's all this about, exactly? Some new trick that Stark and Richards came up with to keep their prisoners placated? Or has he - against all odds - been freed and dumped somewhere in the wild?

What've you gotten yourself into now, Kaplan?

Cautiously he lets his magic take him up to the tree line, resting on a high branch to get a better look around. Up ahead, not far in the distance, he can see a village, but it's so small and old-fashioned that he doesn't recognize it at all. Wherever he is, it's pretty remote.

Well, whatever. What does location matter to a witch who can teleport? His priority is finding Cap and the rest of the Young Avengers. Teddy's probably flipping out right about now. Dropping back into a crouch, he sits himself down on the branch, cross-legged, and lifts his hands again, letting the glow return to them, and begins chanting under his breath-]

"IwanttobeinNewYorkIwanttobeinNewYork..."

[Yeah, he's pretty noticeable like that. Especially since he'll be there until he's discovered, pointedly not teleporting to New York. Awkward.]


[In the morning, however, things are a bit different- he's settled (sort of), he's rested (a bit), he's informed (just enough). And he's sorted out how to use the journal. Thus, around mid-afternoon, he sends out a message:]

Okay, this is weird, but... let's give it a try. Hey, uh, whoever's listening out there. I've heard there are people from all over the galaxy, and lots from Earth, especially. That's where I'm from, too. I was wondering, though- are there people living here who'd be considered "super heroes"? Here or on your own world, I mean. I'm actually-

[Actually... he really shouldn't just announce it. What if someone from the Initiative is here and remembers him when they get back to Earth? Even a slim chance isn't worth the risk.]

...I'm actually a huge fan of the superheroes from Earth! You know, heroes like Captain America, Iron Man, Spider-man... I've been a fan since I was a kid. Though I guess it's not unusual for someone from New York. There's a ton of superheroes living in the city these days.

Sorry for rambling so much. To be honest, I'm just nervous... I've never been to another world before.

[....]

Teddy? You here?


[ooc: first dibs to action (chronologically) goes to Buffy, otherwise he is free to be met wherever/whenever. Also if you could have a look at his permissions post I would be much obliged!]

Comments

[selfhelp]

[...Wh...

...did he just get damsel'd by Buffy the Vampire Slayer?

He totally just did.

Teddy is going to flip. When he rescues me. I'm probably gonna need to be rescued. Totally still in prison here.

He gives her a quick once-over - she still looks way too real to be a dream, but Iron Lad's training simulations had admittedly been pretty real, too - then tries to shake off his shock, scuffing a hand through his hair. Wow. Embarrassing, much?]

...Yeah, uh... thanks. About the tree-climbing thing? I kinda lied.

[herotypical]

Lemme guess. You're new and your shiny, glowy, new butt got dumped in the trees. It's better than showing up in the fountain.

[selfhelp]

New? To the area, yeah- I mean, I've never seen this place before, and you- [He pauses, his gaze suddenly drifting to her back. Okay, dream or not, something is definitely not right about that.]

[herotypical]

Like'em? I hope so. You have your own pair. Sorry if I nudged'em on your way down. They sometimes smart at first.

[selfhelp]

[Still staring, he reaches over his shoulder with an idle hand to poke.






oh.]

That... would explain why my back's been hurting since I woke up.

[Maybe it's a drug. Is that how they're keeping him locked up now? Hooked up to a nice big IV line of hallucination-inducing happy juice. He's totally drooling on a lab table right now. There is something wrong in Tony Stark's head.]

[herotypical]

...You must have a lot of questions.

[ so she starts with one of her own! ] Did you, uhm, find your -- book? Thing? Journal? 'Cause it looks like you found your clothes.

[selfhelp]

[The biggest question is "how do I wake myself up", but he can't expect a hallucination to know the answer to that one.]

Journal? I didn't have one.

[...Did he? Was he supposed to have one? Maybe they're researching, too. He ignores the clothing bit, too- can't just say he waved his hand and made it appear, can he?]

[herotypical]

Everyone has one.

[ she kicks at some detritus -- then glances up at the branches. ] It's like a welcoming fruit basket only minus the fruit and the basket and the welcome.

[selfhelp]

So it's like "ing"?

[Lame, he knows, but he's pretty sure he has a good excuse. He's still riding on the surrealism of talking to a cosplaying movie star in a fever dream while imprisoned in an alternate universe.

Being a super hero is weird, okay.]

Maybe it's back where I woke up. Hang on, lemme check.

[He steps away from her awkwardly, poking around in the bushes. He can't help but glance back at her as he looks, though, wondering if she's just going to disappear. Or maybe be replaced by a fire-breathing lizard or something. He's never been on drugs before but it's supposed to be weird like that, right?]

[herotypical]

[ nope. no disappearing. just....following. ]

W-wait. You didn't wake up in the tree?

[selfhelp]

[.....oh

that

was not smart.

He goes still immediately, crouched beside a bush with one hand half-stretched for the journal hidden between the low branches. His body is tense, like he's about to pounce- or run. He's checking his options before he decides. He may be small, but he could take out a cosplayer, right?]

...Okay, look. I'm pretty sure this isn't real- [Because she caught him from thirty feet and she's a movie star talking to him and hello, they have wings-] But in case it is, you should forget you ever saw me and go home right now. That's the only way you'll be safe.

[It's not exactly a threat, but it's close enough. And he's ready to start muttering a teleportation spell if he has to.]

[herotypical]

[ she laughs... ]

Oh, no. Safe? I think I'll be fine.

[selfhelp]

[Did she just laugh at him?

Why that-

....

Well, okay, he deserved that. If their roles were reversed and he was being threatened (however vaguely) by someone his size, he'd probably laugh too. But it's still less than dignifying.]

I'm serious! If I'm found here by the wrong people and they think you're helping me, you could get hurt! Even killed!

[herotypical]

Trust me -- [ her tone grows dry ] -- won't help. Don't worry about the wrong people, kid. I can handle the wrong people.

[selfhelp]

[This isn't supposed to be funny. Scowling darkly, he turns to face her, letting his hands fall to his sides and dropping the journal back to the ground. With a slight push, he lets the blue light flare between his fingers once more, lightning crackling a little. Not enough to even get close to her, not even for an attack. But enough that it ought to scare her.]

This isn't a game, and I'm not playing.

[herotypical]

[ all at once, her face grows...cold. certain. confident. green eyes don't even blink. ]

Good. 'Cause people who play with me? Generally lose. [ magic, though. interesting. ]

[selfhelp]

[That... is not the reaction he'd expected. It's enough to make him pause, the light in his hands fizzling again. He blinks at her, baffled by the way she's not screaming and running away.]

You're... not scared?

[herotypical]

That depends entirely on whether you're planning to hit me with that whammy or not. And even then? Eh. I've been hit by my share of whammies.

[selfhelp]

You...

[Okay, the surrealism of this just got a whole lot more surreal. Geez...]

You're not acting like a- ...well, an actress. You're acting like...

[Like she's actually Buffy. Not even an extremely good cosplayer who can roleplay, too. Like she's the genuine article.

Which is kind of impossible. Unless Joss Whedon is secretly a reality TV director.

Seriously though, what?]

[herotypical]

...You think this is an act?

[selfhelp]

...Um, yeah. What else could it be?

[herotypical]

Well? I was gonna go with reality.

[selfhelp]

Reality? Are you kidding? You're holding a stake. This isn't Sunnydale, you know.

[It's a dry, disbelieving tone, and he can't help but glance around; maybe he's stumbled upon a movie/TV show set and they've got some kind of reunion tour going on. Or Whedon's finally managed to get Season 8 to run live-action.

...God forbid.]

1/2

[herotypical]

I know it's not...

2/2

[herotypical]

[ this kid knows sunnydale. and magic. ]

Who are you? Really?