The stars are different here

[got_gud]

Who| Alexander and anyone
What| A new arrival contemplates his choices and the strange new world he finds himself in
Where| Observation deck
When| N/A 
Warnings/Notes| N/A

Little over an hour ago, if one had by chance wandered near the Med Bay, they might have heard one of several exasperated exchanges such as this:

"His vitals have completely flat-lined! We need to get him to the emergency room immediately!"

"Lass, listen, please, I am Undead. I do not have 'vitals', apparently. This is the fifth time this has happened since I have awoken here. Earlier one of your comrades tried to wheel me off to some 'morgue' while I lay unconscious. Please, just leave me be."

He could not entirely blame them, though. This realm was apparently fraught with many dangers, but the curse of Undeath was not among them. To them, he was as much an oddity as this world was to him.

After trying to explain his peculiar condition multiple times to a rather excitable if well meaning medical staff, it was then he met the man, R.J. Brand. The portly gentleman explained the situation to him, about the loss of so many warriors, and the need for more -- thus the impetus to recruit numerous beings like himself, pulled here from other worlds -- if they were to have any hope of protecting the realm long enough to find a way to send everyone home.

And so it was that Alexander of Astora, once Chosen Undead and now the so-called Dark Lord, found himself in the Observation Deck, staring out onto the shining world below and what, to him, seemed like an endless night sky. An oddly anachronistic sight, the tall figure wearing a simple arming doublet and other padding meant to be worn beneath ancient styles of plated armor. He had been told the rest of his arms and armor would be held in safe keeping for the moment. It kept him ill at ease though, as being unarmed for a warrior like him was as if he were wandering around completely naked.

He told Brand that he would think about the offer. Truthfully, the idea seemed strange to him. He did not feel comfortable taking the title of 'hero' for himself, even if it was a so-called tradition for this Legion. Even the thought of fighting alongside others like him, after wandering through the ruins of Lordran alone for so long, felt strange.

Even so, he thought to himself, if he still had strength and powers beyond that of mortal men, he felt compelled to use that strength in defense of the helpless. After all, the world could be cruel, at times the only comfort it offered was that which men like him had once fought hard to maintain.

He stood there, arms crossed, still staring out into the vast ocean of stars before him. He had much to think on.

Comments

[whyarewehere]

"Hey buddy. They pull you out of a reenactment or what?"

That was Grif. Grif was in the process of misusing a chair, slouched with his back across one arm and a leg over the other. He'd been lazily poking at his omnicomm, at least until this possibly-more-interesting person arrived.

Who knew, maybe he'd get to add another name under Saralegui and that Zuko kid on the list of people he'd told about the wonderful modern world of science.

[got_gud]

Alexander shot Grif a look of mild confusion, mixed with a slight expression saying 'what, are you stupid?'

"A reenactment of what?"

He paused, considering the question to be of little importance, and moved on, looking back out onto the stars.

"I am one of the warriors brought here from another world," he replied simply.

[whyarewehere]

Grif sat up, tucking the comm back in his pocket, and leaned forward with elbows on knees to look at Alexander more intently.

"People dress up and hit each other with fake swords and pretend to guys that died like a billion years ago. It's probably the most hopelessly nerdy thing a person can do," he explained.

"But I'm guessing you're one of the actual dead guys, so nevermind."

[got_gud]

Fake swords? 'Nerdy'? What kind of nonsense was he talking about?

But that last bit half-piqued his curiosity.

"You are familiar with the Undead, then?"

...some wordplay might just go right over his head from time to time.

[whyarewehere]

"What, you mean like zombies?" Grif asked.

It took another second for an important thought to hit him.

"...Please tell me zombies aren't real where you come from, I don't even want to be in a universe where there's a possible chance they exist."

[got_gud]

He'd take that as a no.

"I have no idea what a 'zombie' is. I mean the Undead. One who is cursed to be undying, to a point."

He gives Grif a slightly curious look.

"I suppose your realm has not been burdened with such a curse. As an Undead myself, I am envious."

[whyarewehere]

"And I'm talking about zombies. They rot and stuff," Grif replied, a little confused but firmly clinging to his preferred understanding of the situation. "You look pretty alive to me. That and they're not real, which is good, because fuck that."

[enthraller]

When Saralegui wandered onto the Observation Deck that evening -- was it evening? He still had a hard time keeping track of the hour when the sky outside was constantly dark -- a new arrival awaited him. The doublet was certainly out of place in this new world, but it was a familiar sight for him from years of quietly watching the guards at work and training, all too welcome in this still-strange space world.

The man had an imposing stature, but luckily, it had been a long time since Saralegui could be described as "shy".

"Are you a soldier, sir?" he asked upon careful approach, cautiously optimistic for a teammate as out-of-place as himself. "A knight?"

[got_gud]

Alexander momentarily glanced over at the young man now speaking to him.

"I was a knight, once, long ago," he replied. "Now I suppose the best word to describe myself would simply be 'warrior'."

He hardly remembered much of his life before turning Undead. He knew he was a knight held in high esteem for the kingdom of Astora, but he knew not what Lord he served, nor the names and faces of his comrades.

Over the years, his memory faded more and more. He wondered if one day he will even forget his own name.

[enthraller]

The corners of Saralegui's mouth twitched into a slight smile, pleased with himself at a good guess, and he joined the man at the window.

"In a world very unlike this one, I'd wager," he said, carefully probing. The man had looked as lost as he'd felt, when first waking up here.

[got_gud]

"Quite different, to be sure. I am no stranger to being pulled into other worlds, but rarely for so long, and never one so...strange."

He looked over at Saralegui again, quietly sizing him up for a moment.

"I am Alexander of Astora. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

[enthraller]

He was of an average enough height for a young man his age, but his slight build and the mostly-adult company he'd kept back home always made him look smaller. He'd learned quickly enough how to make the most of his height, to choose boots with slight heels, to radiate regality so as to not be pushed around.

But he needed none of that here. Saralegui just smiled pleasantly, embracing his delicate image for the time being.

"Saralegui of Small Shimaron," he offered in return, and his smile went a bit wry. "But I'd guess that means as little to you as the name of your home does to me. Unless your trips into 'other worlds' might have taken you my way at some point?"

[got_gud]

"Sadly not. My travels were limited to those worlds nearly identical to my own, the primary difference being who had been chosen by fate instead of myself."

It had always been odd, seeing the worlds of other Chosen Undead, and how they had been affected by their choices. Like a surreal, distorted mirror of his own world.

"I suppose that means that you are...or at least were in the same situation as I. Tell me, did you accept the offer of the gentleman, Brand? To join his 'Legion'?"

[enthraller]

"Mm. However odd the circumstances, no decent person with the power to help could ignore those in need." Phrased just so, because he knew very well how much more noble a response that was, and saying it like that neatly avoided an actual lie. "Besides, helping them helps us return home sooner."

And he certainly had reasons to want to go home, however fascinating this world was at times. But no need to dwell on that. He turned a curious stare on the man, piercing golden eyes softened only slightly by his tinted glasses.

"But what do you mean, 'chosen by fate'?"

[wherenoonegoes]

"Kind of mindblowing, isn't it? That we're actually out here in the stars."

Alexander's outfit was fairly recognizable as not being modern, even to the Viking who was, culturally speaking, from a couple of centuries before him. Hiccup was set to introduce himself, before Toothess sniffed at the air and growled, haunches raising.

"Bud, what is it?" Hiccup said, backing up slightly, and placing his hand on Toothless's shoulder, trying to calm the dragon. Toothless chuffed, and gestured his head over towards Alexander.

The Viking gave the warrior a wary glance. "...he, ah, thinks you smell off."

[got_gud]

Alexander was about to reply, before seeing the young dragon nearby. He seemed to visibly tense, mostly due to the fact that his normal arms and armor were elsewhere.

As it was, his hand settled near a small knife at his hip, an unconscious, instinctive move.

"A drakeling, is it not?" he finally said. "Tame, hopefully. Dragons and the like in my world have a habit of slaughtering anything in their path, living or...not."

He had faced several in his time. Even the meekest of the dragon-kin were not to be trifled with. The idea of a tame dragon seemed absurd, but the creature wasn't immediately attacking him, and the boy seemed at ease with it. He felt attempting to preemptively defend himself would not be a prudent option, given the situation.

[wherenoonegoes]

"Near full grown, actually. I think, anyways, I've never actually seen any other members of his species, so I can't be sure." Hiccup saw Alex's hand go to his hip, and winced. "Don't pull the knife, you'll just make things worse. He doesn't like people he hasn't met before carrying weapons around him."

Hiccup kept petting the dragon, whispering to him. "It's okay Toothless, he's not going to do anything, I'm fine, I can take care of myself, remember?"

The talking and having Hiccup in a position where he could get in front of the Viking to protect him seemed to calm the dragon, though he still kept shooting glares at Alexander.

"He's about as tame as you and I are, with everything that implies." Hiccup said, by way of explanation.

[got_gud]

Alexander didn't seem any less tense, but he seemed more cognizant of his actions.

"You'll have to forgive my caution," he replied, with a somewhat weary, tired tone. "The Dragons of my world, true Dragons, are willfully malevolent. Their lesser cousins, the drakes, are highly aggressive and prone to attacking everything in sight."

He tries to adopt a less-threatening posture, even though he is still visibly disturbed by the dragon's presence.

"I am Alexander of Astora. I apologize for my brusqueness. Centuries of instinct are difficult to overcome."

[wherenoonegoes]

Hiccup was fairly good at working things out from relatively few facts. Toothless's reaction to Alexander's smell, his somewhat odd comment that dragons in his world killed things that weren't alive, and the claim of centuries of instinct...

"...oh gods you're a draugr," Hiccup gasped, looking jut as disturbed at Alexander's presence as the other man was of Toothless's.

[got_gud]

"I am Undead, if that is what that word means."

He did not seem overly surprised by Hiccup's reaction. Undead weren't exactly well liked in his own world, but he felt no need to hide his identity as one.

"You've no need to fear, though. I am quite far from Hollowing at the moment, so you are in no more danger from me than I am from your...companion. Besides, I am much reduced in power compared to how I am back home. I have little more strength than an average warrior."

[captainbuzzkill]

Dipper had been around Medbay when Alexander had been making his complaints. He was still having issues controlling his telekinesis, so they'd done more scans and well...

He heard it all.

So now he was creeping around, following the new guy. He was undead. A zombie. Any minute now he was probably going to try to eat someone's brains.

And even if he wasn't, he was a zombie. Dipper's natural curiosity meant that he wanted to find out more about him. So he crept into the area that held the observation deck, hiding behind a console and peeking around the corner with his omnicom, filming him, waiting for him to do...something.

He could have respected the guy's privacy and asked him directly about what he was, but...

Nah.

[got_gud]

Alexander had lived long enough to be keenly aware whenever eyes were upon him. He'd been stalked and hunted before, and unfortunately for Dipper, the boy wasn't nearly as stealthy as he thought.

He pretended not to notice him at first, so as not to give himself away. Instead, he raised his arms to cross them. In the process of doing so, he palmed a Prism Stone from his pocket in the hand Dipper didn't have line of sight to. The stone, though brilliantly sparkling when it catches the light, was otherwise as normal as any other rock. Still, it could be useful as a distraction.

After waiting a few minutes, he turned and started walking away, still pretending not to notice the boy spying on him. Despite his size, he walked with careful, measured steps that hardly made any noise, instinct burned into him from centuries of fighting in hostile territory.

It would, of course, also help him listen for anyone following him, like a particular nosy 13 year old.

[captainbuzzkill]

Dipper was pretty sneaky so he still thought that the zombie hadn't picked up that he was there. He sneakily crept after him, his omnicom held up and filming, moving from cover to cover as he went.

[got_gud]

Soon enough, Alexander came upon a turnoff to a nearby hallway. With a fluidity of motion that came from spending centuries fighting, he spun, tossing the prism stone so that it would just barely graze past Dipper's head.

In the same motion, he quickly darted down the hallway, but only just enough that Dipper would lose sight of him. He quickly turned and waited for the boy, who, Alexander was sure, in his sudden panic between the stone missing his head and losing sight of his target, would likely chase after him without thinking.

Where Alexander would be waiting for him, looming above the boy at nearly six and a half feet tall.

[captainbuzzkill]

"Man."

Stupid stone. He ducked to avoid getting clunked in the face and started running along, trying to find the zombie again, hoping he could find him and creep up behind him again.

What he wasn't expecting to do was chase after him and run right into him.

Dipper bounced right off, landing on his butt, and looked up at the huge zombie looming over him.

"Uh. Hi? I was just --"

What was a good lie?

"Walking. Down. This hallway."