Here begins the journey of our newest player Carl, GMed by Tadeusz.  :)

In reply to Tadeusz (msg # 1):

The not being able to bring stuff is fine, but I am not sure what you mean by bringing platonic spiritual items.  Constructs from the Idea realm of Plato?

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You're out walking, enjoying the sunlight after a rain storm when your cell phone chimes.  You take it out....telemarketer....aargh....a car drives by and right through a puddle...water splashes up...you feel water on your hand....see it on your phone...aaarrgh....and then an electric shock...

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You wake feeling a flat metal grate pressing into your back, the tang of ozone and sweat heavy in the air.

A male voice speaks cheerfully "Noob wakes up!"

What the...?

It wasn't making sense to me. Where was I? For that matter, when was I? Who knew how long I had been out cold, if I was waking up in a strange place that stank of ozone. That wasn't at all familiar.

Trying to lever myself up into a seated position, I look around for the speaker who said that.

In reply to Carl (msg # 3):

You sit up on a rusty metal grate floor.  Ten feet away is a wooden bench built into the solid stone wall.  A huge man with startlingly blue eyes, and long blond hair is looking at you with an amused smile.

To your left is another two men on a bench in the small room.  One is asleep and has bright green hair, and is wearing what might be black leathers, and the other is Oriental, and he bows holding his hands together.

Blinking a few times, I remember my manners (sort of), and try not to fall over as I put my hands together and make a slow bow back to the Oriental gentleman. Rather awkwardly, I'm afraid, doing it still sitting up rather than getting to my feet first.

The rusty nature of the metal bothers me, being reminded of the possibilities of both tetanus and of weakened bits of the grate breaking.

Do I notice anything odd about myself, or the lack of anything I would be used to seeing or feeling about myself? Is the air warm, cold, or something else in addition to the scents? Light sources in the room?

I try to say "Hello sir," hesitantly, but between my confused mental state and my lack of teeth what short vocalization I utter seems to come out wrong.

In reply to Carl (msg # 5):

You do a wobbling sort of bow which provokes a small grin from the Oriental gent and a loud laugh from the tall man.  As you get up, you don't notice anything odd about yourself (not sure why you would???), and the grate while rusty is very sturdy feeling.

You see through the floor a woman walk past on the lower floor with a very baroque robe.

The blond giant offers you some alcohol in a silver flask.  The gent  nods to a bench spot empty  if you want to sit down, and the green h aired guy wakes up, and you see one of his eyes is silver.  He blinks sleepily looks at you, and mutters.

"Hello, brother." He does not look remotely related to you.

"Hello," I try again, having heard the garble from my first attempt.

I didn't know what to make of the woman passing below. But I did know what to make of the giant offering a flask. Politely turn it down with a shake of my head (and cringe away if the smell of alcohol hits my nose from it). On the other hand, taking the proffered seat on the bench is with gratitude, minding that I don't crowd anyone else.

I look left. I look back at the others. I peer right. I look back at the others. Take quick looks at the ceiling, the wall behind us, and what can be seen of the room below through the grate, attention returning to the others with me between glances like a cat that has found itself in a very unfamiliar place among strangers.

The use of 'brother' reminds me of a character I had played in a Marvel Superheroes game, and of the scene when he'd first met Hercules and Jessica Jones, for some reason. I pay a bit more attention to the green-haired one.


OOC: Odd, as in, do I have my usual protections from the light (double sunglasses and cap, seeing as you described me as being out in the sun before versing out) and am I still wearing pants? No sore spots feeling injuries that I couldn't immediately explain away to myself?

In reply to Carl (msg # 7):

You cringe. The scent is strong.  He laughs.

There is plenty of room as the benches line the wall of the small stone room.  A door of metal is closed.

The ceiling is another metal grate through which you can see more grates.

You are wearing your cap and glasses, pants, etc is what I would like.  I don't really want nekkid versers.

The green haired man slips on a pair of mirrorshades, and offers a  hand.

"This is my fourth world.  My name is Gecko.  I left Earth in 2074, when did you leave?"

More above us? Up continues ever up, and down continues down. The tower built by Mobius is one eternal round. But if you wish to leave this place of endless cheer and woe, think of the times before you came and thither you must go. The remembered verse ran through my head briefly upon seeing grates beyond grates, implying more such chambers.

"C-Carl," I answered, taking the proffered hand by the wrist to shake, rather than grasping the flat of his palm. It occurred to me that what he said has some disturbing implications.

"Fourth... world? What do you mean, Gecko?" The first explanation that came to mind was ludicrous (Darkseid), and the fact he'd named a date 50+ years in my future was not helping my mind adjust to this situation.