You're at the gym, fiddling with a new electronic leg press machine.  Its interesting with its electromagnet pull, but you're not sure its going to replace weights and cables.

Its got the 'Scriff Inside' logo like so many other new computational devices you've seen around for the last few months.  Scriff is something that helps speed computers up is all you really know, other than its a golden liquid.  The information on it is held confidnential for business reasons.

You're doing an easy six hundred pounds, and then there is a half-second power out.  Your machine comes back on, and its smoking.  Golden liquid is dribbling out of it,a nd down onto your chest.

"Ungghhh" you groan as the machine goes to some sort of 'default' at 1600 pounds after rebooting.  You try to hold it, and then your right leg snaps.  The bar slams down on you, and you're sure you're dead...

===================================================================

You wake. A fine grit is on your left cheekbone. Your eyes are closed.  The smell of the shoreline is in your nose.  Your feet bob up and down in water every few seconds.

You hear 'shush-shush' and the chatter of something like a parrot, but no words.

You feel fine.  Your right leg does not hurt.

PT

I sit up slowly so as not to jog anything loose. I seemed to remember being in the gym working out, yet I smell water and feel sand..... this is different. I might be in heaven, or possibly be dreaming this all while I'm being worked on by doctors....

I slowly stand up to test out my leg and look around at this dream-like place.

Your leg is wet up to the knee from the waves of the ocean, and you dust off your face from the wet clumps of beach sand.  Rotting lines of seaweed stagger down the dark, thin beach making way for the jungle but ten feet from water's edge.

Your leg is fine, like it's never been injured.

In the distance, a few miles away, you can see the perfect cone of a volcano rising above the tropical jungle.  A wisp of smoke rises into the crystalline blue sky.

To your right, and left you feel as if you...left something there, or there's something familar there.

PT

Taking a few minutes to watch the volcano as the smoke rises from it's cone. I look around and try to decide which direction to go in.  Taking a quarter from my pocket I flip it. heads left, tails right. Catching the coin in my had I look at what it turned up as.

Heads it is, left I go.

Putting the coin back in my pocket I start to walk towards the left.

You're walking away from the volcano through moderately heavy sand.  No sign of land breaks the ocean horizon.

After a hundred, perhaps a hundred fifty yards you turn a corner in the sand and walk into a small cove protected by a line of rocks across the mouth of the cove.

A dark-haired female in blue jeans, and a terry cloth pullover shirt of dark blue is walking toward you.  She is struggling with a heavy suitcase in the sand, and does not see you.

The really weird part is she feels in some strange way familar, but you're fairly sure you've never met her before.

PT

rying to shake off the feeling of familiarity I approach the woman.

Excuse me miss, this may sound a bit odd but... where am I?

She startles, and looks worried for a second, but then takes your look in and calms until you ask your question.

"I have no idea.  I was messing with my Lark computer and big flash of light...and I'm on a beach.  And truth to tell, I don't really like beaches."

She pushes her bangs out of her eyes, and looks at you in the eyes.

"I'm Jenny Malcolm, and you're....I hope you're not God or an angel."

PT

I laugh a little and shake my head.

No jenny, I'm not an angel or god. My name is Valiant Brooker. I got here pretty much the same way you did, I was working out and teh machine went all hay-wire and I woke up here.

She'd like to tag along with you finding reassurance and safety in numbers.  But, if she's going to keep up with you, she's definitely going to need help with her suitcase which seems to be about sixty pounds.

"Lots of my favorite novels, and my laptop."  She says apologetically.  "I'm a sportswriter for the New Culloden Times."  She gives you a small side glance that people who are mildly famous give to see if you've heard of them.  You haven't.  "I suppose this is my chance to work on the novel I've been meaning to finish."

As you trek about the curve of the cove, you see a man appear at the other end of the cove.  He's small, thin, and in a uniform.  He's carrying a slightly curved sword.

PT

I Help her with the suitcase and begin to walk with her. I begin to wonder how she got all this stuff here when all I ended up with was what I had on me. I begin to wonder if maybe my stuff landed off to the right. Seems I remember liek there was something there that was mine.

So your a writer huh? fiction or a biography sort of deal? Hey looks like we have company

"I'm writing this mystery set in a resort town on the Carib coast.  Its the site of the national championships.  So you have all these teams, and coaches, and sponsors...all very ambitious...and a lot of them up to things they wouldn't want the folks back home to know about...and then people start dying..."

She continues to talk about it for as long as you're willing to listen.  Like most writers, she has a huge infrastructure of information in her mind, and she'd love to share it.

However the arrival of the slim Oriental man in uniform, and carrying a katana on his hip stops her mouth.

"You!" He pauses to make sure he has both of your attention. "You both will conduct me to the nearest radio facility or boat dock or airplane."  Its not even remotely a suggestion.

PT

Sorry Sir, but we don't know where the nearest boat dock or radio station is. Wish we could help but we can't.......nice Katana. I didn't know it was legal to carry those around without peacebond.

I'm a little leery of this stranger. A sword tooting man does not inspire trust.

He blinks at you perplexed.

"Peacebound? Never mind." He waves it off. His English is precise and clear.  "It was not a request.  I am Captain Tenchi Muramoto. You will assist me to the fullness of your ability until I no longer have need of your services. Come with me now."

He loosens the blade very slightly.  And you notice how his movements are fluid, and he's never been off-balance.  His eyes are filled with controlled anger.

Jenny jerks her shoulder and arm near her purse.

PT

I understand, no need to get violent.

I bow to him and spread my hands out in a guesture of peace.

I was only informing you that we do not knwo where it is and would therefore be of poor service to you

He nods accepting your reply.

The trio of you head off.  Near the end of the island as it curves about you meet two people.  The bronze-haired man is kneeling in front of a long-haired blonde helping her turn her blue jeans into cut-offs with a small penknife.

He doesn't look happy to see your group from jealousy it looks like.

The girl gives everyone a big smile, and waves her legs to make sure everyone gets a good look at how nice they are.

"I'm Sandra Fairhaven, and you are?"  She directs this to you having obviously decided that the Short, Skinny Guy and the Other Female are of no interest.  The man with the penknife scowls at you.

"I'm Dalton Dalrieux."  He says shortly. "Bondtrader on Oak Street."

PT

I give a small nod and smile to the two we've just come upon.

Names Valiant, this is Jen and this is a captain

There is some questions from each of them as to where they are, but no one knows.

The group continues onward around the curve, and enters another cove.

Above the tide line is a small geodesic dome made of bamboo and lashed together with vine ropes.  Its covered with banana leaves.

There is a tiny campfire which is barely coals about fifteen feet from the 'hut'.

A tall man with a beard crawls out of a flap door.

He looks up at your group rather startled.

"One of you wouldn't by chance have any coffee would you?"  His voice is a Southern growl.

"Come sit by the fire, introduce yourselves.  I'm Tadeusz, and you're...." He points at you.

PT

I think I should have brought a name-tag... or possibly his own sword then at least he could fight his way out.

I'm Valiant

He asks everyone to gather some short logs to make seats, and Jenny offers a small container of Halverson Coffee which brings a smile to Tad's face.  He begins to heat it in a metal pot over the woken up fire.

You didn't see him do anything to the fire.

"I've got something to tell you, but I think it best that I tell you in a roundabout way. Screaming hysterics are so messy."

As the fire heats the coffee, the smell fills the air.

"For me, in this time, its breakfast. I don'tknow about you.  Okay, Mr. Dalrieux, why don't you explain who the last five presidents were."

He looks at the bronze-haired man who scowls back at him.

"Its Mr. Dalton, and why don't you pick on someone else for your game show."

"All right, Mr. Valiant, if you would, sir.  And if you get the answer right, you win a free question of your own, as this is now a game show."  He gives Dalton a glare that has the Captain reaching for his blade for a moment.

PT

I look annoyed at the question and shrug.

I can't really recall right now and I don't care enough to try. I've never been one for game shows

"Ordinarily at this point, I'd tell you to go away for an hour or whatever until you jogged your memory, but..."

He scoops some sand into a tiny pool, and pours it full of water.  The water trembles with multiple wavefronts.

"We have very little time which only bothers me because I feel sorry for you lot."  He breathes in deep, and sighs. "You're immortal. You die, arrive elsewhen. Die again, repeat, rinse, recycle. Scriff is important. Rules vary per universe. Its all real, and you probably think I'm nuts which is why I like to do a nice, rational explanation to avoid that."

He points at the pool which is vibrating wildly now, and you can feel tremors under your feet.

"I'd estimate you have a minute until you know for sure. Happily it won't hurt. The pyroclastic cloud will be moving too fast for you to feel much pain."

PT

I look at bit confused then as if he was an idiot.

Your either insane or you know something I don't... I'm not immortal, only the gods are immortal. Since I'm not a god I therefore am mortal and will die. By the looks of that volcano I know my death is coming soon. Or this is just a bad dream.

"I know many things you don't, and I have no time to play show-and-tell....then again...." He pauses and looks at the Japanese man who screams from deep in his belly, and charges in an iajeutsu move as he snap draws his katana.

The stranger has a gladius in his hand which you did not notice before.  He snaps the blade aside, and buries it in the heart of his attacker.

He says something in Japanese.

The Japanese man vanishes into a tiny cloud of dust which vanishment includes his sword.

"Thirty seconds, and that will be you all."

Behind him you can see the pyroclastic cloud rushing down the volcano.  The ground buckles.  There is a roar like of a dozen freight trains.

Looking around in shock and curiosity I open and cloes my mouth as if to say something but never find the words.

I....What..... This has to be a dream....I don't understand this....

BOOOOMMMMM....

=====================

And you'll be starting in the Gather thread which is McCallister's Mob....

PT