You did fall asleep.

Maybe that was perfectly natural and normal.   Right in the place where you usually do that.
Or maybe it wasn't.   And happened somewhere that would've made it different, odd, perplexing, kind of crazy, or flat out dangerous.   If you were still there.

But you aren't.

Blackness...full, utter, complete.   Are your eyes shut-?  Not as far as you can tell. Indeed, although there is nothing else to be seen, you can still see yourself, when you glance downward, in spite of the fact there's no apparent source of light.

Neither is this all-encompassing void cold.  Right at perfect room temperature, you would swear.

And your body sure feels solid, if you check; seeming to rule out spontaneous astral projection, or the plucking of your spirit from your corporeal form.

No...wherever the hell you are, you are there wholly, as best you can discern.   Garbed in whatever way is typical when you right wrongs, fight crime, or otherwise strut your stuff.

And suddenly light...some indeterminable distance in front of you...flashes into being.  Silvery-white, strong but neither glaring nor harsh, and coalescing swiftly into the shape of a man.

And even more suddenly, there is a man...
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:34, Tue 09 Aug 2022.

Stately, tall but not towering, and distinguished.  Clad in a distinctive, red and gold-trimmed cloak, azure garments, with an orange sash that matches the shade of his fitted gloves.

A round, golden amulet glints at his throat.

“Hello to all five of you.“ 

Yes...there are four others... you can see them now;  arrayed with you, in a semi-circle, about your host.

“Some of you may know me.  Sort of.    And for any who don’t...I’m Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme of my native reality.   I’ve brought you here because I -- no, scratch that -- this is in no way personal -- billions upon billions of beings need your help.    My spell drew you here because you are well suited to provide that help.”

https://i.imgur.com/lCqECA6.jpg"  data-lightbox="images-msg-2">https://i.imgur.com/lCqECA6.jpg"  align='right' alt=''>Strange gestured, spoke a single syllable, and following a play of light about his hand, there was now an hourglass in it.     Which he placed off to his left, where it hung quite steadily.

“So much you should know -- and a limited amount of time in which I have to convey it.”

The sands in the glass started trickling down...

Welcome to the game!   

**Requirement in order to post**   You must have a description of your character in your cast box --  this can be a written description (doesn't have to be overly wordy, as long as it gives a full impression), or a picture, or both.

Once that's done, when you're ready (there is no rush) please write a first post that includes your initial reaction to all of this.

Obviously, you can't include a reaction to any of your cohorts who haven't posted their description yet.   You are welcome to hold off until all characters have a description. But, you may also choose to defer that to your second (or later) post, if your preference is to dive in and get going.

If anyone tries to change their location: you'll find that you can, either by just willing yourself to move, or flying, or by making swimming like movements (which is still doing the first thing, you just believe it helps).  However, you cannot move more than a few feet in any direction -- not close enough to touch anyone else.   
This message was last edited by the player at 22:33, Tue 09 Aug 2022.

Mark's expression darkened as this 'Strange' fellow spoke. He had been abducted. He had been taken from the bunker where he lived and transported to who-knew-where, at the whim of this man who claimed that billions of lives were in some manner of jeopardy.

Mark could set aside his ego for the moment. He had to know if Strange was telling the truth. If so, Mark would help. If not... well... Strange would come to regret his high-handedness.

"Tell me more," he said.

The nondescript young man (was his hair dirty blond? Light brown?) looked wholly out of place amidst this preternatural void. Amidst this magical spectacle, a man so forgettable that he seemed almost .… inhuman.

Despite his appearance, on his bland face was an unmistakable look of wary recognition. This was not his first experience with magic.

“Aye. I know you. Or, of you at least. State your purpose plainly, sorcerer. Spare us your riddles.”

Mordred tightens his grip on his staff as this Strange Sorcerer speaks his piece. He stares at the summoner, grateful that the shock on his face is concealed by the shadows of his hood. He listens quietly and carefully, for magic is something he has learned deserves one's full attention.

"You have my attention, Sorcerer Supreme," Mordred says in his light voice. "I'll not waste your time."

The man in the red sunglasses listened as the Sorcerer said his piece, then leaned back in a relaxed position. Appearing strangely comfortable in this otherworldly Limbo-- even sleepy-- he gave a yawn. When their host had finished, he shrugged and muttered:

"Yeah. I figured it was something like that."

“Yeah, I thought you were still tied up with that nasty business with Silver Dagger back in New York.” A gorgeous blonde in casual wear and a biker jacket stepped forward. Her voice sounded smooth, if husky from love of whiskey. Her blonde hair worn in two loose braids, she looked over the men with a bemused smirk. “Nice shades,” she told the other biker with a chuckle.

She appraised his jacket, and the patches with less levity. Perhaps recognizing a kindred spirit on some level. “Mmm. I do like the jacket.”

"That was thirty years ago, in my reality," Strange replied to the blonde.    And spent no more time in preamble:

"What's occurred is something that was astronomically unlikely. In terms of the knowledge and ability required to pull it off.   There is a being called Eternity --  a personification and a sort of steward of the universe -- or one of the most central, at least.  And Eternity has its own exterior dimension, from where it oversees that universe.  Further, it periodically withdraws into a kind of sub-cosmos, to do the equivalent of resting."

Strange pauses just briefly, "So someone caught Eternity while it was sleeping, you could say -- and performed a very dire theft.  Part of Eternity's essence is a particular star, that might be likened to its heart.  This should have been near impossible -- but that doesn't matter!  It's been done, and the consequences beyond catastrophic if it isn't reclaimed and restored."   

"I do know where it is, thank the Vishanti --  a pocket dimension, named Sundown City; incredibly hard to locate and far harder to access.   Save by those who happen to match its requirements for residency." He indicated the group with a gesture.

"There is nothing anyone would want to do with this thing inside the city.  Except to hide, and hold onto it...and wait until the unthinkable occurs.  Fortunately, time passes more slowly there, than most places.  Because I've no clue where in the city it is -- you would have to find it."

For clarity, Strange added:  "I've called this thing a 'star,' but like the being it was taken from, its existence is abstract.   And on the physical plane, is likely no bigger than a large stone."   

"No one has to go. I can send you straight home. I can cast the net again --  but each time, those it brings will be less well suited." 
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 01:05, Thu 11 Aug 2022.

The nondescript man's demeanour takes on a more relaxed and less defensive mien, "You're mad. Sundown City is a myth. An desperate hope of those with nowhere left to go."

Though, a scintilla of doubt remains in his voice, "What are you playing at, Wizard?"

“Hold it.” The blonde in the leather jacket held up her hand. “What he said might sound far out, but Dr. Strange isn’t a liar.”

Strange smiled faintly, wryly.

“And so many might say of an anthropomorphic representation of the universe, with a stolen heart.  But like Eternity, I assure you that Sundown City does exist. Through the years, I’ve helped a small number avail of what it offers.” 

He smiled, more fully this time. "And thank you for that, Val.  But I do understand where Mr. Ramsey is coming from."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:32, Thu 11 Aug 2022.

Cipher snorts derisively, "Lying is like breathing to the powerful. Besides, your Dr. Strange may not lie, but we know nothing about the Strange in front of us."

Barbara snapped back. “Why don’t you stop riding his ass and give him a chance to earn our trust?” She glared at the sullen in warning. “Stop hassling him before I make you stop.” Barbara held eye contact long enough to get her point across.


Then, she looked at Dr. Strange. “What is Sundown City, Stephen?” Although a Dr. Strange of a parallel universe, he reminded Barbara of the man she knew. Powerful, but possessing a power tempered by hard-won wisdom. Barbara knew something of hidden worlds, though that knowledge was the memory of another.

“How can we enter the City, when the Sorcerer Supreme can’t?”

Mordred listened carefully to the Sorcerer's words, not once taking his eyes off him. Some of his warning made little sense to him, but rang familiar of Merlin's endeavors and Morgan's aims. Mordred's lips tugged into a smirk at the mention of Sundown City. A place hard to locate and even harder to access sounded like a challenge, and retrieving something integral to existence was a cause worthy of a knight.

Mordred's hand strayed toward the sword hanging at his side. His fingers brushed the scabbard, not the hilt. It was a pensive gesture, as if touching the item helped conjure memories of better times.

"It seems you propose a quest, Sorcerer Supreme," Mordred answered, dropping to one knee. "One of impossible odds yet great importance. I would make for a poor Knight of Camelot if I refused such a call."

"Thank you, Sir Mordred," he said with sincerity.   Then regarded Cipher. Gesturing at the utter, infinite blackness that surrounded all six of them.

"If I am a liar, you're in a bad position, are you not?"   His eyes strayed to the hourglass - more specifically the sand - then back again.

"But the truth is, you're soon going one of two places.  Back home...or Sundown City."

Then looked again at Barbara.  "Even I don't know how it got there, or who was the hand behind it.  It's existed a long time.  And it's purpose is twofold;  providing succor and a real home to those who need it most, or whose native reality may have been transient, or grown unstable.  And, it's also a catch-all for more problematic sorts of people.  I believe the intent is that some of them may change, through living there."

"And you can get in because you all fit the criteria for residency, in some way.  Though that may have more to do with your future, than your present."

When Mordred referenced Camelot, Barbara’s ears perked up. His words appealed to the one who resided in her soul, and embed her body with supernatural power. She looked at, truly looked at him with a sight that went beyond the empirical. She listened to Strange’s answers, but every now and then, she stole a look at Mordred. Barbara was a member of a unique “motorcycle club” who were actually superhuman vigilantes.

However, Barbara’s Patroness belonged in a Sisterhood of immortal warriors who dated even further back than Camelot. Both fellowships held a place of honor among the scholars of Antiquity. Barbara’s source of power was also the source of the name she wore on her jacket: Valkyrie.

Barbara smirked when Stephen pointed out the bad news for his heckler if he indeed turned out to be untrustworthy. She considered what he said about the kind of people who could walk Sundown City. Hands on hips, she chuckled. “Heh! Well, you could definitely call my reality ‘Transient’!”

Then, she looked into his eyes with the special sight of a Chooser of The Slain. Her joking ceased as a faint shadow that only she could see passed over everyone present. “This is Bad News, huh? If we don’t find this Heart of Eternity, it’s wipe out for every living being, huh?”

"The way I see it," started the teen in the white jumpsuit as he floated up about a foot off the floor to get everyone's attention, "We have two questions before us: One, do we believe? and two, do we help?

"I, for one, believe that we have been told the truth, and there is such a crisis. And if that's the case, I have no choice but to help."

He may have meant that last part literally. It wasn't easy to tell.

"Thank you, Mark."   Again, the acknowledgement was given with sincerity.

And then to Barbara: "Not everyone, no...some other universes have their own Eternity, and the effects on them will be minimal.  Unless, of course, they happen to border the one laid waste by this.  In which case, they'll suffer something of a sink-drain effect, and likewise be pulled into oblivion.  And no, in case anyone's wondering -- I've no way of knowing whether your own home will be exempt." 

He went on to add, "You of course will have an enemy to deal with.  And based on what was done, this is no mortal occultist.  Fortunately, Sundown City has some virtues, in that regard.  Magic over a certain power range doesn't work at all. And likewise some powers of the mind.   But, I caution you greatly against underestimating the cunning of any being who can perpetrate something such as this."   

"As I said, I've helped a few people arrive there. You won't be entirely without guidance, or allies.  One in particular will meet you there, and knows more about the place than I." 
This message was last edited by the player at 17:20, Thu 11 Aug 2022.

The man in the red glasses and biker jacket underwent no change of expression as the Valkyrie commented on his get-up. Between his silence and the unreadable expression on his face, one might get the sense that there was annoyance or even anger in the eyes behind those opaque lenses. Had something she said offended him somehow? And if so, what was about to happen? He stood and turned toward her, moving through the void by sheer force of will until he was eye-level with the warrior woman who had dared address him...

... And then he cracked a smile. "Thanks," he said. "My girlfriend gave it to me."

He turned his head, continuing to listen as the others weighed in on the Sorcerer's proposal. When there was a pause, he pointed a finger at Dr. Strange and addressed him next:

"The demon told me about you. Warned me not to trust you. Said you'd interfere in our mission. And if you know who I am, then you know who I serve..." Once again, a strange tension filled the room as the dark-suited man floated toward the sorcerer, appearing so utterly focused on getting to him that one got the sense he might even succeed. A hand reached out toward their host, grasping for-- what? The amulet Strange wore around his neck? Or the wizard's very throat?

Neither. The man was trying to shake Strange's hand. "... But then again, the demon's kind of an asshole. Name's Specter. I'd be happy to help."

Cipher watches Dr. Strange warily, "My vulnerability doesn't in any way affect whether you're telling the truth. And for the record, I called you mad, not a liar. You definitely seem to believe that Sundown City exits. I, however, remain skeptical."

Cipher sighs deeply, "Well it seems we're about to embark on an amazing journey. Or a short painful one. What more can you tell us about this shard of Eternity? Will it have any effect those around it? Or on space and time, such as they are in Sundown?"

As Specter approached him, Strange appeared unconcerned - apparently either sensing or knowing there was no threat, or none that could be executed here - and accepted the offered handshake.

"The incantation used to bring you here imparted some knowledge about each of you.  I know who you are," he nodded.  "And the identity of the demon you mention.  Sometimes fire is best fought by fire.  And in more than one reality, the power of that demon has been redirected to good ends, by the will of its host.  You wouldn't have arrived if that wasn't probable."   

He then turned to Cipher, "Ah, Mr. Ramsey...I believe I do feel sorry for the wait staff, if you happen to partake of any dining establishments in Sundown City.  The shard, as you called it, is almost surely within some container, or vessel, being that it isn't the easiest sort of thing to hold onto.  Most probably one which obscures its luminosity, and other emanations.  Most of the properties it would have, elsewhere, will be nulled in Sundown City.  Due to the restriction on magic I mentioned."

Again, his eyes flicked to the hourglass.  It was plain the opportunity for questioning the Doctor was growing short...

"Is there anything else I may answer-?"

When the man in the red sunglasses walked up on Valkyrie, she didn’t flinch. She met his stare, arching an eyebrow with a bemused smirk. The way Specter approached Stephen, though, Barbara watched him intently. Her hand drifted toward her hip where her sword hung. She watched the Sorcerer protectively, but relaxed her hand when he just shook hands.

The urgency with which Stephen watched the hourglass impressed the weight of their mission upon Barbara. Although different from the man she knew, the man before her shared a dedicated sense of stewardship for humanity. Barbara shook her head. “No, Stephen. We will find the rest of the answers in Sundown City. For this mission, you will have the help of the Valkyrie.”

Mordred stood back up as he waited to hear the others' responses. He noted the blonde woman's occasional glances at his person. He tilted his head in her direction, his dark eyes silently scanning her. He recognized her bearing as that of a warrior despite her strange clothes. Her sword was clearly no decoration. He nodded to her, a gesture acknowledging her as an equal, before returning his attention to the discussion.

Mordred did his best to follow the discussion. Some of the others summoned by this Dr. Strange at least seem familiar with who the Sorcerer is, and their responses provide insight into the candor of their host as well as the quality of their character. The flying youth's recognition of the severity of the situation is commendable. The man in similar dress to the woman's drew his suspicion upon mentioning a demon. His Aunt had occasionally dealt with such beings, and Mordred knew better than to place trust in such entities. The other human---or perhaps metallic homunculus---appeared reticent to accept the Sorcerer's charge. He would need more time to determine what gave him pause.

Mordred raised an eyebrow when the woman mentioned "Valkyrie." The Saxons told tales of such mythological beings. It appeared such tales held some truth.

Mordred returned his attention to the hourglass. He was well acquainted with the inflexibility of magic's limits. Those who dared press past them often regretted the trespass---should they happen to survive it.

"I've two questions," Mordred said. "What is the name of your ally, and will we be able to send word to you?"

"And I thank you deeply for that pledge," he replied to the steadfast warrior woman.  "We don't know each other completely.  But, I know well the essence of who you are. And it makes that pledge vastly reassuring."    Regarding next the man from Camelot:

"And I think you are cut from a similar cloth, Sir Mordred. Yes, the name of the ally..." Strange bit his lip some and for the first time...looked a little uncomfortable?

"His name is Aaron English.  But he rarely goes by that.  In my world, the Valkyrie knew him well as Dollar Bill.   He will not be what you expect, I'm sure.  But judge not a book by its cover; he is trustworthy, and can inform and connect you with others. That's all that matters."   

"And unfortunately, it's unlikely you'll have any more communication with myself; not till this is done.   Due both to the difficulty, and the risk of detection it poses."   
This message was last edited by the player at 22:29, Fri 12 Aug 2022.

Cipher's wariness continues to drain away as the excitement of a new job, and a chance to do some good, begins to take hold of his imagination, "Any factions within the city we can rely on? Any we should avoid? And what do we do with the shard when we find it?"

Strange's smile was slight, but hinted at his satisfaction in that shift of attitude; in keeping with what he believed Cipher's better nature was, beneath the pain the man had endured.

"I can only tell you what Sundown City is, in general, and virtually no specifics about what lies within.  I've never been inside, and making one communication - to procure aid you'll have to have - was difficult, costly, and risky.   Dollar Bill, and those he advises you to trust, must be your informants."   The next smile was the wry kind, again.

"Part of me would like to say trust no one -- but that would make your task impossible. I can only exhort you to use your very best judgement.   Once you have the star-heart, open whatever vessel contains it, and call out to me.  By that point, one way or the next, it will no longer matter if the enemy knows I've sent you to retrieve it."   

Mark was still called 'kid' by his government handlers, but he was grown up enough to make his own decisions. And having already made his decision, he was ready to move forward with the mission. A lot of questions (most of which were being answered with fancy versions of I don't know) were just superfluous.

Another thing his handlers called him? Impatient.

"Are we ready?" he asked.

"Shoot," Specter shrugged. "Too bad Doc can't recommend us a good place to eat. Went to sleep on an empty stomach."

He nodded over at the kid in the corny-looking jumpsuit.

"Yeah. Let's do this."

“Enough talk. It’s time to shit or get off the pot.”

Mordred nodded.

"Understood," he said. Dr. Strange's faith in the Knight seemed to breathe new life in something hidden within Mordred. It was a spark of hope, and a flicker of relief. Despite the ill omen of his birth, this Sorcerer Supreme placed trust in him. That was something even he himself sometimes doubted. Mordred resolved not to let Strange's act of faith be made in vain.

"We shall not let you down."

"So be it.  I'd wish the Vishanti to watch over you, but even all-seeing Agamotto cannot pierce the veil which cloaks that place."   

So said, Strange began a chant in the sibilant tongue of the occult -- while simultaneously making almost weaving like gestures with his hands.   The same silver-white light that had flared when he'd first appeared coruscated one more --

-- and each of the five experienced a sense of utter disorientation.

As if the space they'd occupied was abruptly something else -- some other place, the laws of which were alien and incomprehensible.   There was intense light, that wasn't truly light;  hues and shades not seen with the eyes, but felt with the spirit.

Followed by a brief sense that they'd become everything and nothing at once.

And then just as suddenly, there was light -- sunlight, ground, gravity.  Substance.

And air.  A cool, pleasant seabreeze -- and the background smell of fossil-fuel burning vehicles, like one becomes accustomed to, in any major metropolis.

And the sights and sounds of such a place as well; perceived from what appeared to be more of its outskirts, not far from a picturesque beach.

A sun that was beginning its descent.   Did that surprise anyone-?

And someone approaching them --