Jack was glad to be awake, and alive. It'd raised his hackles not to have anyone keeping watch, but there was no way to keep watch without whoever was outside falling prey to those shades. He'd wanted to keep his shock gloves on, but with the proximity of everyone else, that would've been a bad plan. If anyone rolled over in their sleep wrong theey would've gotten a three thousand volt nudge to the ribs. He'd thought that he'd been too nervous to sleep, right up until he'd woken up, the air under the blanket turned stifling. He apprently wasn't the only one who thought so, because someone then brought their cover down in a tangle, and after a few seconds of swearing and struggling, everyone broke out laughing.

With a hot cup of soycaf in hand, and the sun not quite high enough to start scorching the stone yet, the morning was almost pleasant. "My ammo pouches are waterproof. They wouldn't be my first choice to use as canteens, but not much to be done bout that. Just let me shift my extra clips to my pack."

It was amazing how bright the sun was, and how quiet Meneer was. He didn't want any of the hot drink, instead pulling out herbs from a pouch to make a tea with. He was also the first to hit the water and freshen up as Dogma inspected it to see it was clean. Within an hour, the team was ready to hit the road again, and another spirit was brought forth to aide in the journey. The day also proved uneventful as did the following night. At the end of the 3rd day, you find yourselves at the coast where crossing would be easiest at a mere 50 kilometers, assuming land masses didn't change much over the following few millenium. The horrors of the previous days seem to be more a thing of the past, replaced with aching muscles, sore feet, sunburnt skin, and a constant glare in the eyes that seems to remain even after dark. The world is so white during the day, and so dark at night without the advent of technology and lighting. The bland tasting food conjured by Gypsy sustains, but leaves alot to be desired, and by the end of the third day, the creamy colored substance seems more revolting than anything. Fortunately his water is plentiful, and his spells soothing against the pain of the sun once evenings set in.

"So...any ideas?" Rebo asks, staring at the ocean.

"So...any ideas?" Rebo asks, staring at the ocean.

"Yup, you start summoning a thought-form, then get together with Gypsy and work on those Levitation spells. Tevos, you get us a spirit to make us go faster, like we've been doing on land."

A large grin forms on Dogma's face. "Why swim when you can fly?"

Gypsy fights, not quite successfully, to hold back a grin as Dogma uses the word 'spells' in reference to the psionicist's abilities. In the sorcerer's opinion, Rebo spends way too much time and effort trying to convince others that his own unique and somewhat delusional outlook is actually correct. As far as the outlook itself, Gypsy didn't care just how the psychic warrior thought his magic worked, as long as it did the job.

Hiding his amusement, the elf steps over to the team's leader before Rebo has a chance to start his almost inevitable protest.

"What's to work on? We do our thing, then we're off! At the rate we've been going so far, it should only take us an hour or two till we hit land once again."

As he speaks, the sorcerer once again contemplates the strange link that exists between himself and the Great Dragon known in this time as Icewing, and he shifts his perception to the Astral to check in which direction the thread disappears now.

"If we got all the drones airborne at once, how much extra weight could they carry?" Jack asked Sleel. Anything to expediete their crossing even more. He couldn't remember if Megaladons came this far north, and the chip really didn't have anything useful about 4th world British sea monsters. However, hanging above the water struck him as a better idea than swimming their way through it.

Down by the seaside, Gypsy and the psionicist sit together, sipping their warm soykaf and discussing the logistics of their upcoming journey. After weighing the pros and cons of the various alternatives, they finally come up with what they think is the best solution.

Wandering back to the group, who have been busy with the drones and the camp, the sorcerer fills Dogma in on their plan.

"Since I don't need to deal with Spirits, or Thought Forms as Rebo calls them, I'll be using my magic to levitate four of us. That'll be myself, you, Slinky, and Sleel. Rebo will take care of himself, Tevos and Jack, as well as provide a Spir ... er Thought Form or two to accompany us. That leaves Tevos free to deal with other Spirits to help speed our movement, as well as provide some cover for us, should it be needed."

The elf pauses and looks around at the assembled group, attempting to gauge their reactions to the plan.

"Good. Do it."

"It sounds good to me. I can keep my drones airborne to avoid having any issues with them, as long as we're in daylight. I'm curious though, I know the spirits are going to help us be moving, but can they help my drones too, and will they even need to?"

"That all depends on Tevos' Spirits, of course, but I don't think it'll be necessary. From what I've seen of your drones, I'm sure they will be able to keep up without help."

"Right O. The faster we get off this rock the better."

Tevos wades knee deep into the water, scooping a handful of the sea water, and throwing it away from shore. The water in the shallows ceases to ebb and flow, creating an erie calm on the otherwise choppy channel. Even with his back turned to you, you can see the tell-tale elements of a shamanic mask, and the far away barking gives additional measure. Suddenly the water resumes its normal flow, lapping along the shore line. Tev seems to rise slightly, almost standing on the surface of the breaking waves, floating with the rolling water, before the sea around his feet erupts, sending a 20 foot spout of water and sand skywards, drenching the conjurer. Tevos drops his arms and the spire decays into a gentle salt water rain.

Tev walks the few feet back to shore with a modest sized fish in on hand, and his dripping shirt flung over the opposite shoulder. He drops the shirt and the fish on the sand, and shakes himself off like a dog. He takes a few deep breaths and walks a few feet away, raising his head to the sky. The wind picks up slightly, enough to blow just a little sand around. Tev falls backwards into the sand, chest heaving.

From a few feet away you can hear him grumble "Im getting too old for this..."

As the team members scatter to go about their various tasks in preperation for departure, Gypsy gets to work casting the series of Levitation spells, first on himself, then on each of the other three that will be under his control. His hands move together in a gesture vaguely resembling someone lifting a moderately heavy weight as he gathers the mana together and binds it to do his bidding.

"I hate to say this," Rebo says, "but Thought Forms aren't going to be very useful except maybe as scouts."

Rebo gets to work on the plan, using Telekinesis on everyone Gypsy mentioned and trying his damndest to concentrate on all of them so he doesn't drop anyone. Once that's done, he conjures two Thought Forms to use as advance scouts.

Jack didn't like the thought of getting heaved around via psionics any more than getting heaved around with magic, but unless a landbridge rose out of the sea in the next five minutes, it was the only way thay he'd be getting across. "How stable is the hold? If I start firing off my SMG, am I going to be hurling myself into a spin, or will it be like I'm standing on the ground?"
---------------------------

After a bit of effort, the group of adventurers find themselves hovering over the ground precariously. Their every move seems to risk a loss of balance, and thus altitude, but nonetheless, the group seems to hang on to their fragile grasp on the sky. Suddenly a wind picks up, and the group feels themselves being both pulled and pushed in the direction of the southeast. After a few moments, nothing is to be seen on any side except the vast ocean below and the sky above. You'd swear you could see giant forms moving under the water, and every once in awhile a fin or tail of an amphibious nature would break the water for a split second. After what seems like 2 hours, you still see no sight of land, and you begin to worry... did the island of the UK even exist in this age? Would you be forced to fly all the way past towards where the Netherlands exist in the future? Further? Land had to be somewhat close by though, the birds were starting to be seen on the horizon, and they weren't reptillian either, more like large seagulls. Then you see it.... coming through a cloudy haze is green. A hill covered with green, and even a tree on top of it. Within minutes you find yourselves nicely landed on a lush grassland that sets about 200 feet above the ocean water below. Why did this place have to be so cliff-like? But, nobody was really in the mood to be on the beach after seeing what was in the water. Cliffs were nice.

Jack might not have been too enthusiastic about getting hauled around by magic, but it was infinetely preferrable to bobbing around down there where he kept catching glimpses of immense siloheuettes. "Hey, maybe we should try for a little more altitude, just in case any of those things jump? Or has a really long neck." He couldn't help but think about the Loch Ness monster.

He crossed the sling of his SMG over his neck, making it impossible to drop, but forcing him to hold the Cobra a little tighter to his chest than was nominally comfortable. Getting out of sight made him hold it a little bit tighter. If anything went wrong, they were so far out that they'd be just as hosed with a sliver of terra firma on the horizon as without, but the psychological comfort of being able to see land. They saw nothing but water and more water for what seemed like the better part of forever.

Where was England? They knew it was there. Even if the mages hadn't scouted it with spirits ahead of time, they'd still have known where it was. It wasn't a volcanic island that had appeared one day amidst a bout of tectonic flatulance. Finally, land appeared on the opposite horizon, and Jack breathed a sigh of relief, one that he was surprised to hear echoed by everyone else. He checked the position of the sun, then his chronometer. How much time did they have until sundown? He, Tevos, and Rebo would be okay, but if they didn't hit the tops of those cliffs before the last ray of sun, a few of the team would be making a splash down.
-------------------------------------------------

Immensely relieved to finally make landfall, Gypsy drops the spells he has been struggling to sustain as soon as the last of his 'charges' touches down. Flopping himself down on the grassy plain, the elf stretches out his cramped and aching muscles, luxuriating in the feel of the living earth beneath him after his experiences with the strange landscape of the ancient Tir.

At first, Dogma finds the "air surfing" rather funny. It was like trying to stand up in a boat. He'd bob and hover, and then stabilize. He privately giggled at the funny sensation.

However, when they got to skimming over the water, a new kind of panic hit him. Dogma had never boated over any large surface of water. The thought of all that water below him made him feel vertigo. When he thought he saw a large... a gigantic... shape cruise below in the depths, he turned bleach white and cold sweat started to pour down his back. The rest of the team was chatting back and forth about this and that, but Dogma didn't say a word the entire trip. He hoped no one noticed his dread.

As soon as they hit that verdant land, Dogma found that his legs didn't support his weight right away and he faltered. Gypsy, who had landed nearby and was stretching all his cramped muscles, had time to notice the other elf's weakness. But it lasted only a second. The team leader quickly regained his composure, now that they were on land, and righted himself.

He turned around to watch the last of his team land on their little hill.

"Alright, good work guys. Let's rest a bit, then we'll scout, and try to head for a village or any sign of life"

Sleel was a bit surprised to get picked up again, but at least this time it wasn't while he was rushing toward the ground like a exec late for a meeting.

Flying wasn't new to Sleel, almost all the drones he'd ever used could fly. What was new was doing it in his own body. He felt, odd, like when you're at the top of a rollercoaster, just before it crests the top, when everything seems to hang for that split second. He didn't like that he wasn't in control either. He busied himself with checking on his drones, and monitoring his body position through their sensors. At least he was comfortable flying with them.

While flying, he quickly decided that ordering the drones to surround and protect the group would be a good idea. For the duration of the trip, there was a nice ring of drones around the party, keeping pace fairly easily, with Sleel using the strongest sensors to try to figure out what was showing under the waters.

Upon landing, Sleel realized too late that he was still jumped in a drone, and watched his body flop limply to the ground as the spell was let off. Wincing he hoped he didn't hurt anything too badly, and set to having his drones make a quick perimeter around the group before returning to his body to check on everyone.

Rebo uses his powers to levitate above the massive ocean, concentrating hard on everyone. He'd never carried so many people continuously for so long, and the thought of dropping one of his teammates struck a pang of fear into him.

Seeing the massive shapes of horrific ocean creatures below their feet made the psionicist redouble his efforts to keep his team aloft. He was extremely glad that he'd called those Thought Forms for scouting duty; an extra set of eyes never hurt.

Rebo's relief was beyond measure when he spotted the land mass his time called England. Gently lowering his teammates to the grassy land as soon as it was safe, Rebo dropped his duffel bag full of gear on the green land and splayed out on his back. No more cursed Ireland. No more shadow entities (he hoped). And hopefully, just maybe, a way back home.

As the ragged crew floats their way over the green, lush, not Ireland, Tevos breaths a sigh of relieve. They where safe, or at least less likely to get mountains dropped on them, get eaten by dragons, or have their souls ripped out.

"Thank you for your guidance and assistance in our travels oh spirit of the 4 winds." Tevos bows slightly and with a thought the steady wind at your backs stops.

"Let me be the first to say, LAND!!!"

Land. Not just land, a lush green grassland with trees. You take a break under what appears to be an overgrown oak tree, it's leaves providing a pleasant shelter from the alarmingly bright sun. It's just after mid-day, and a gnawing hunger sets in. Something that could surely be remedied by that slop Gypsy calls food, but the smells and sights around you create a craving to find real food. Small furry creatures are seen bounding through the grass in the distance, the grass being amazingly short for an uncivilized land. You are able to lay in it without it blocking your view. It's softness creating an enticing lure to sleep as butterflies flutter over your heads. Gazing upwards you see some sort of fruits hanging from the tree above you, just out of arms reach. Clouds roll in as if beckoned, blocking the brightness of the sun just as your eyes begin to feel heavy. You've finally made it to a nice land, for the first time in what feels like a year since your journey began, you feel safe and at peace. The drones showed Sleel that the entire landscape was perfectly safe, nothing to worry about for miles except for cute little squirrels, butterflies and lush grass with a tree here and there.

As they touched down, Jack fell to the ground, giving the Earth a great big hug. He was never doing that again. _Ever._ If they had to go back to Tir, he was going to swim. If anything tried to eat him, he was going to beat it with his fists until the candy started coming out.

"I don't think England has ever looked so much like paradise," he said, looking around at the green grass, flitting butterflies, and hanging fruit. "Anyone have any idea what this is?" he asked, pointing at the fruit, and wondering if he'd ever seen it on a shelf somewhere in a store. Squirrels scampered across the branches, and the sudden thought of having some real, actual fresh meat made his mouth water. He wondered what kind of ammunition you used to hunt squirrels: ExEx or Flechette? Which type would actually leave squirrel left over to eat?

After Ireland, this was so idyllic. He just wanted to lay back with a piece of fruit in one hand, and a squirrel in the other, kicking his heels up and enjoying the sunshine. Not a threat for kilometers.

So why did he feel a creeping sense of unease?

Jack had a creeping sense of unease because myths often spoke of tantalizing Edens with Damning Fruit. Myths hard-wired into the brains of even astraphobes like him. Myths that resonate in the gut with promise and warning in equal measure.

Slinky touches down lightly, weeping. She kneels, bow held lightly in her right hand, left hand spread in the thick grass. For her the ocean trip was very much that – a trip – filled with images of their passage and the feats that Myrminoth had accomplished. She presses a hand to her brow as she tries to separate the flight across the water from the flight of the gleaming bow’s arrows. Slowly her surroundings sink in and with them a deep, welling sense of relief at the vibrant growing land around them.

She stands suddenly and raises the bow skyward, reaching up in a pantomime of drawing, she can feel a taut string under her fingers and an arrow nocked and ready. With a smooth motion she draws, tension building in her chest and on the string that she sees glowing in her mind. She pauses, tense, thumb at the corner of her mouth, bow at full draw. Her shoulders are straining, a vidlink diagnostic ticks warnings in the corner of her vision. Energy, tension, anger, fear, happiness all mute in the suspended moment before fire and… release. Myrminoth’s arrow streaks upward carrying the girl’s senses with it and she screams a wild primal sound as the past burns away with the arrow’s skyward flight. She is reborn into this new and strange world. Slinky no longer. She collapses onto her knees, weeping still, a strange, peaceful smile on her face.

Dogma walks around the fertile landscape, amazed by the lush colours and teeming life. No park in Denver has this kind of life.

Moving towards one of the fruit trees, next to Jack, the elf picks a pear-looking fruit. He takes out his survival knife, cuts out a small piece and analyses the fruit's chemical composition with his cyber analyser. He looks at Jack. He's uneasy too. Either their damned shadowrunner nature doesn't allow them to trust goodness when they see it, or their damned shadowrunner nature is accurately telling them something is wrong.

As composition results begin streaming into his retinal dislay monitor, Slinky's cry rings out in the clear blue sky. ... the frag? thinks Dogma turning a worried glance towards his team mate.

She's holding that bow. Tears streaming down her face, but such a smile on her lips.

Jack jumps about a foot into the air at Slinky's sudden cry. "Well drek, I thought I was leading the 'who'd freak out first?' pool," he said, bewildered by the woman's sudden breakdown.

Rebo starts up as he hears Slinky's scream. She was holding that bow again, the one taken from Ireland.

Rebo decides to take a gander at this thing from aural space.

Something's up with that thing...

After resting momentarily, and revelling in the feel of the grass-covered earth beneath him, Gypsy moves to sit in the shade beneath one of the fruit trees. Eyeing the squirrels, and wondering just how good one or two of them would taste, he considers using his magic to stun a few for the team to prepare their first real meal in days.

Startled out of his leisurely contemplations by Slinky's sudden and unexpected scream, the elf leaps to his feet, ready to face whatever new threat that would prompt such a response from the tech-wiz. Spying th woman on her knees, her smiling face lined with tears, brings back to mind all of her strange behavior over the past few days. Gypsy relaxes slightly, looking around to check the reactions of his various companions. He casts his eyes towards Dogma, expecting the elven leader to finally take the time to deal with this complication. Sitting back down under the tree, the sorcerer wonders just how that new bow of hers fits in to all of this.

The disturbance caused by Slinky seems to break the tranquility of the place, and you could swear, just for a moment, that you were back on a barren rockland, resting under a tree that must have been dead and petrified a century before. But only for a moment, until your heart returns to its normal pace. Everything is so perfect here, you even notice that there's a bit of a stream next to you with fresh water, hidden in the grass and only made aware of due to it's trickling sound as it drains off the cliff face. As Rebo looks at Slinky, he can see the rainbow-like colors they share, they are so in union with each other that it makes the bond of a mage with a foci seems like enmity. Everything is perfect. You watch, all of you, as the bow seems to pull itself gently from Slinky's hand, floating in the air above her, her eyes still tear filled with happiness as if she herself had willed it into the air with a thought. Tevos looks down and notices he's got a fruit in his hand, although he didn't even realize he'd picked it, and a bite of it is lingering in his mouth. He swallows a bite, and although it feels a bit stuck in his throat, he finds it's the most perfectly flavored fruit he's ever had. Jack and Dogma are the only 2 that seem a bit out of place here. The look in their eyes indicate something seems wrong with paradise. But it's obvious that they just prefer darker scenarios. There is no need to pay attention to either of them. Gypsy surprises everyone, in his happiness, he decides to stand on his head, his feet in the air and a smile on his face. Like a kid, he's enjoying life to its utmost, and being playful about it. Surely any second now, he'll start doing cartwheels. He begins levitating in this position as he contemplates the bow that is also hovering above Slinky's head.

Dogma starts heading slowly towards Slinky, mentally preparing various ways to talk to the girl. He wasn't a psychologist, but close enough.

Forming a nice warm smile, he suddetly stops dead in his tracks when he sees the bow begin to fly over the girl's head. Wha...? The elf shakes his head and pinches his nose bridge, his head feeling heavy for a moment.

While shaking his head he could swear the world looked ashen, dead and rotting again, just for a brief moment. But no, it was still lush and green and juicy and fresh... Gypsy laughed and started doing children's acrobatics. Sleel laughed and clapped at his antics.

Dogma felt giddyness creep in on him, but he fought it. A sense of vertigo and nausea replaced the giddyness. The elf took a few stumbling steps, looking for something to hold on to. His drunken gaze found Jack, who also was perspiring and dead pale.

"Somethings... wrong..." tried to warn to everyone Dogma. They weren't listening. They turned their backs on him. Laughing at each other's playful antics.

Tevos has a grin plastered to his face that you couldent wipe off with a PAC.
God, this is a good peach... Didnt know they had peaches in England, but HEY, this isnt today, who knows.

Slinky lets out a primal scream and falls back into the grass, somewhere between crying and laughing. Strange girl, nice, and brillient, if a bit homely, but strange.
"Jack, mate, lighten up, have a peach. This is our little paradise. I swear, if we had a trid here I might consider not going home at all."

The flash of the real world is burned into Jack's memory, and he holds onto it tightly as the paradise overlays it again. Now he knew what was so very wrong. Tevos grinned at him. "Jack, mate, lighten up, have a peach. This is our little paradise. I swear, if we had a trid here I might consider not going home at all." His voice was jolly, but was Jack the only one who thought it sounded like the words were gasped out around something choking his throat shut? Something bad was going on, something magic. It'd take a mage to counteract, but all of there spell slingers and mind mushers seemed completely enraptured by the illusion. Could they be shocked out of it?

"This paradise is going to kill us!" he shouted, loud enough to capture everyones' attention. "We're all going to die here!" His face went pale as he shouted, then green, his hair looking like it was going greasy, and stringy. He shrieked, an inescapable, penetrating, high pitched knife sliding into everyone's inner ear, a sound he'd heard a firefly spirit make as it was enveloped by a fire elemental. His eyes started to sink back into his sockets, the skin around them looking black, and bruised.
----------------------

All thought of troubles and their precarious situation fall away from the sorcerer as Gypsy revels in the paradise in which the team has found themselves. His child-like glee is plainly evident on his face as he uses his magic to perform minor tricks for the sheer joy of it.

From his upsidedown position hovering in mid air, the elf ignores everyone and everything except the bow hanging above Slinky's head. The weapon seems to draw his eyes and thoughts in an almost hypnotic fashion.

"Yack, aie, ayen oh, aie ah ee. Ey i oui ei ayaaye, aye er, ey ee ah a i ee aye aye uh-i-eh au ohee oh ah ah", Jack mumbles as he stuffs his face with pear.

Backgammon and Sandoval only:


Rest:

Jack stands up, his face a rapture of delight, and he starts singing like only Mariah Carey can do. His voice melodic in nature as he pulls off pitches that just aren't humanly possible, except for by Mariah Carey of course. You are in awe at the way he sings, although there's something about the lyrics that are a bit... dark. However, when do words matter in music? Why do people always have to die in songs? He should sing something more pleasant about sunsets and flowers. Tevos lies down, and tries to sleep. The taste of peaches still lingering in his throat, tasting so good that he decides to see how long he can hold his breath to keep the taste in.

Sandoval

"Yack, aie, ayen oh, aie ah ee. Ey i oui ei ayaaye, aye er, ey ee ah a i ee aye aye uh-i-eh au ohee oh ah ah", Jack mumbles as he stuffs his face with pear.

Backgammon and Sandoval only:


Rest:

Jack stands up, his face a rapture of delight, and he starts singing like only Mariah Carey can do. His voice melodic in nature as he pulls off pitches that just aren't humanly possible, except for by Mariah Carey of course. You are in awe at the way he sings, although there's something about the lyrics that are a bit... dark. However, when do words matter in music? Why do people always have to die in songs? He should sing something more pleasant about sunsets and flowers. Tevos lies down, and tries to sleep. The taste of peaches still lingering in his throat, tasting so good that he decides to see how long he can hold his breath to keep the taste in.

Sandoval

What everyone sees:
Jack's song continues, a vertiable virtuoso performance. None of you ever realized that he could dance, but without losing a note he starts moving, his arms waving sinously. He'd kept it well hidden beneath a layer of distrust, caution, and mental disfunction, but deep inside he obviously had the soul of a performer.

What Jack sees: