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[walk_ins]

In a dark room, there is a door. On the other side of the door, it's mid-afternoon; on this side, it's early morning. Time between this world and that rarely runs in synch, and time on this side never runs smooth, anymore.

It's a mechanical door, not a magical one, and lights flicker and turbines grind as the ancient mechanism tries to access its counterpart. Finally, time here and there comes together, and the door lights up; gets a little more solid.

No one comes through. Their welcoming party is late (the train is broken down again, and they're walking, and cursing) and so are the new arrivals.

Time passes, and this is more accurate than you may think. If you think of the time here and the time there as two ships passing in the eternal night of todash space... well, they're drifting apart.

And then the door flies open and spills them out, the gunslinger, the wizard, the mad girl and the Rose Bride. The effects of such mechanical gateways are always nauseating in these days since the world moved on, and with the two doors nearly out of synch--and the destruction of the door they came through, almost simultaneous with their transmission--the effects are much much worse.

And before they can recover, the earthquake comes, the Beamquake, as time hitches forward and the life of Chloe's Beam runs out. They stumble, fall; sparks fly, and some of the monitors in the wall explode.

Darkness takes them all, and hours pass.

---

They awake in a place completely unfamiliar. It's somewhere inside a building, and it's dark...except for the ghostly light spilled out on the floor by television monitors. Thirty of them, a few shattered. Twenty-one show pictures that Roland Deschain might find familiar, if he had time to look.

Only there's not much time to take in the sights.

There's sound coming from outside the door.

"WELCOME TO ARC QUADRANT OUTPOST 16. THIS IS A MEDIUM SECURITY OUTPOST. PLEASE GIVE -- "

Roland stiffens; the voice sounds like that of Blaine the Mono, and he knows where Arc Quadrant Outpost 16 is --

"Ninety-nine, you sack of shit! Come on! Open the goddam door!"

"THANK YOU."

Roland has time to draw his gun. "Humans. Taheen. Mayhap can-toi. Expect them -- "

The door opens.

Comments

[young_tmriddle]

*Tom staggers slightly and reaches for his wand, and then for his vial of reinvigoration potion. Secretly he's more than a little relieved he was able to Open this far and away. Wherever this might be.

Opening is easier now, though his head is ringing a bit. He swallows the potion and stands ready, wand out.*

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

Anthy stands frozen, just behind River.

Her eyes are locked on the opening door, and they widen as it does.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland's gun is drawn and ready.

He moves to one side behind a console. "Find cover. Canda. Make sure they can't take two of us out with one shot."

[river_meimei]

The door behind them is shut, but the one before them is opening, and there's no time for thought yet, no time for anything --

River is behind a second console now, gun in one hand and shoving Anthy behind herself with her free arm, crouched pale and sharp-eyed. She hasn't relaxed yet; she's moving in swift efficient darts like a wild animal, with absolute stillness between, breathing fast.

[walk_ins]

The door comes open, and they walk in, with absolutely no clue of what is going to happen to them.

In the lead is an ugly cat-taheen, with a strut and stagger in his walk that he has no right to. Most of his miserable ka-tet is a pack of inbred humes, but lurking in the back is a pale vampire, wrapped in a pale aura.

To their credit, it only takes the Graduates's welcoming committee a moment to realize things haven't gone according to plan.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland moves.

Five of the humes are gone -- shot through the chest, the throat, the head. He wings the taheen.

And ducks down and reloads.

Five minutes of blood and stupidity, and this will be at an end. God and the Man Jesus. Back in fucking Calla Bryn Sturgis.

Ka is a wheel.

[walk_ins]

Marken o' Devlin squalls and takes cover, blood running down his arm. He just lost more than half his force, and now one of the remaining idiots is charging the gunslinger, firing blindly.

Someone has fucked up hugely. He doesn't think it's him, but he suspects he's going to pay the price for it anyway.

From cover he lobs a sneetch at the dark-skinned she-hume; it warbles and zips towards her like a fat murderous bumblebee.

[young_tmriddle]

*Tom repels the sneetch with a Banishing charm and it bounces right back to the one who lobbed it.

He stuns five more, these monsters who remind him of the Eelfinn and Aelfinn of the Tower of Ghenjei. He hopes he's killed them.

They feel wrong in his head, which is aching still from the stress of Opening.

Behind them, something lurks that feels worse. Much worse. It has the feel of the vampires and Dementors of his old world and the Velvets of his new.

He shudders.*

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

Still pressed against the wall, Anthy breathes again.

She's lucky not to inhale any of the spray of blood and bits of cat.

[walk_ins]

There's not much left; the vampire and one last hume; they both leap forward together, both betting against the other's life.

The vampire, armed with an electric sword, attacks the gunslinger, aiming at his pistol with the buzzing and sparking weapon; the human fires an enormous Dirty Harry handgun into the wizard, then wheels to point it at the dark-haired girl.

[river_meimei]

He's still wheeling towards her when the bullets catch him, a double-tap to the center of his chest and (as his head keeps turning) the left side of his forehead.

River doesn't spare him a further glance. "Tom--" Her voice is high with tension, and with the last of the Discordia-bondsmen dead, the calm she's been fighting so hard for so long to keep is starting to crack.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland feints, moving to the side and away.

Then he shoots the vampire's hand. The sword falls out of his hand, and onto the floor. Roland shoots it again for good measure, bellowing, "TOM!"

Tom had one of his spells cast on him -- the one that repels bullets.

"DEAL WITH HIM!"

Roland hopes Tom is okay. He truly does.

He's facing a vampire, and he has no magic.

[walk_ins]

The vampire is not a type three vampire, easily killed but relatively bright; he's a more bestial type two, and nothing but a stake in the heart and his head cut off will stop him.

Once upon a time his name was Bango Skank, and he went seeking the Crimson King, who called to him in his dreams. He was an artist, of sorts.

He's a horror now, one of the King's broken-helm undead ronin, and he claws at Roland's throat, going for the jugular, his skin waxy and cold and his nails like talons.

[young_tmriddle]

*The charm worked, but the bullet didn't slow down as much as the one from the gun Bar had given him.

It hits him in the ribs and stings like bloody blue blazes. The skin isn't broken, but there will be a bruise there; he can feel it blooming already.

He only has a moment to stand there, stunned, as the vampire attacks Roland.

He rushes over, wand thrust out before him.*

Expecto Patronum!

*A blinding white light flows out of his wand and takes the shape of a king cobra, coiling up to strike out at the undead creature.*

[walk_ins]

The vampire snarls and flails at the misty glowing serpent; it drives him back, away from the gunslinger and towards Tom.

Hopefully the Patronus knows what it's doing.

[young_tmriddle]

*If the Patronus does know what it's doing, it hasn't shared the knowledge with Tom.

However, Tom has an idea as the vampire shambles backwards. There are many ways to deal with the many kinds of vmpires of the many worlds.

This one usually works for them all. He thrusts his wand into its back as hard as he can, in the approximate location of its heart.

If that doesn't work, he can always explode it with a spell from the inside out.*

[walk_ins]

The vampire screetches and shrivels, but fails to turn to dust; it falls to the ground, paralyzed, its eyes angry and the only mobile part of it.

RELEASE ME. Its mind reaches out, searching for a vulnerable mind to command.

Gunslinger Gunslinger Legilimens--Anthy.

RELEASE ME.

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

And Anthy rises, eyes unfocused, and moves dreamily toward him.

[river_meimei]

"Anthy!"

Anthy halts, her face starting to clear, but not enough; she's still dazed and dreamy-eyed.

River grabs her wrist, half-standing, pulling Anthy towards her.

"I need the sword!"

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

Anthy wavers.

Not for long. River's the engaged. She lets River pull her back, and though the words are under her breath, too quiet to be heard, she summons the sword.

The light is blinding.

Her eyes close, her back arches, and the sword handle rises.

[river_meimei]

River catches her, arm circling her back and supporting her like one dancer dipping another. But she's not dancing right now -- her movements are swift and smooth, but her face is intent, not alight with joy. The calm mask of a gunslinger in battle; the calm mask of someone who cannot begin to falter or she will crash, down and down.

She doesn't falter.

The sword handle is in her hand -- blinding light pooling around the two small slim girls, glinting off the bright-edged blade.

Gently, she shifts Anthy to lean against a console.

And then two steps forward, and the blade arcs downwards in a blur, towards the snarling thing on the floor.

[walk_ins]

Decapitated, the vampire dissolves into dust and teeth, leaving Tom's wand lying in the center.

[lastgunslinger]

And as Tom goes to pick it up, Roland reloads his gun.

"We're in Calla Bryn Sturgis," he tells them calmly. "And I know where. There are friends here, once we get across the river. I'll take a look outside, and then...then we either wait here for a while, or we go."

Though how they're going to get back to Milliways...

Roland will cross that bridge when he comes to it.

He heads for the door, to look outside.

[river_meimei]

River follows, Anthy trailing after her. The sword glows in her hand, thinning and turning to translucent light, before it flows away and back to Anthy's chest. River hardly notices.

The coast is clear. Roland steps outside, motioning them after.

They stand on a cracked and ancient concrete driveway in the fading light of late afternoon. The air is hot and arid, and the harsh sunlight gilds dusty ground and, farther up a rocky hill, huge organ-pipe cacti; they cast a tangy, bitter scent into the air, like juniper and brine.

River does not so much relax as slump, swaying a little as her head bows. Between one breath and the next, she goes from sharp-eyed and intent to sudden and utter exhaustion, and a trembling relief.

[anthy-rosebride.livejournal.com]

Anthy's face is set and stiff now, and she stands rigid for a few moments.

They're outside, there's no fighting, and River's -- not relaxed, no, but no longer struggling to stay on guard.

Her expression doesn't change, but Anthy turns to River, with a quiet, shaky sigh, and slips into her arms just as she slipped into Maggie's. Instead of drawing a sword, though, she puts her own arms around River, and she buries her face in River's shoulder.