Part of the appeal of fanfic (at least for me) is the ability to see what you can do to the characters. How they can be stretched and twisted and shoved into new scenarios. Basically, all hail the Crossover! The previous chapter titled 'Exits' is a start of that. The problem is that there's so many possible endpoints that it becomes hard to choose just one. And there's so many possibilities for how the insertion of a Harry Potter into another story line could change it or improve it or even destabilize the second plot.
I mean even if it's just limited to stories where the characters have some type of portal, the sky is still the limit. X-Men have the Siege Perilous and Limbo's "Stepping Disks," the Stargate, The Guardian of Forever, the Wardrobe to Narnia, the bricked door of Coraline, and the list goes on and on.
And then we can add in those stories that are in places where fantastical things could just happen. Places like the Ringworld or The Land from the Chronicles of Thomas Covenant or even Oxford University from His Dark Materials.
And of course places like Cephiro has both. There is a portal (Tokyo Tower) as well as the fact that fantastical things can and do happen in Cephiro.
Thus, I was stuck with a way to get characters somewhere, but a glut of places to put them. Which meant I tossed out multiple versions. Thus you can view each of these bits as the ending scene to the previous chapter. In truth, I'm not certain which I like the best, but I've always rather enjoyed Star Wars...
−−− − •••• • •−• | • −••− •• − •••
−−− − •••• • •−• | • −••− •• − •••
−−− − •••• • •−• | • −••− •• − •••
Marvel
The Siege Perilous.
For millennia it had been a gateway to another existence. A forced refresh on a person's life, on their existence. A way to escape pain and suffering without the need to shuffle off ones own mortal coil. What was known was that it would appear in different places for different lengths time. And that walking through it allowed for a new life. One freed of the expectations and the memories of the old. It was also useful as a scrying gem: a way to see the past, the future and the might have beens.
It's creator was lost to the midst of time, but it was known that it was ancient when the Asgard walked among men the first time. It was a part of legend when the first brick was laid in what would become the Hanging Gardens.
Of course, since it worked outside of time as a linear construct, it is quite possible that it had not actually been made yet.
When the X-Men moved to Australia, they brought it with them; a gift from a grateful Roma. Most of the time it appeared as a rather gaudy jewel; a large princes cut ruby with a gold mounting. On occasion it would change size, becoming a mirror sized stone and on occasion a full doorway. When it was full sized is edges contained a series of odd carvings. Things that were almost letters but not quite pictures.
For the most part though, the mutants left it alone; they dismissed it merely as one more oddity in their lives; lives which were already filled with such oddities.
Thus, they were quite surprised when it expanded to full size on them. At least that it had done so unexpectedly
The five mutants, Wolverine, Havok, Dazzler, Polaris and Psylock, all stopped what they had been doing to focus on it. It seemed to twist in upon itself; a writhing sensation that was slightly nauseating to watch.
The crystal in its center flared brightly, then seemed to fill with smoke. Wind whipped up from nowhere, and pushed at them.
And while these mutants had seen people enter the Siege Perilous, they had never seen anyone exit it before today.
But that's what happened. A pair of teenagers came tumbling slightly through its doorway.
Two teenagers more focused on themselves, and their kiss, than on their surroundings.
"Uhm, excuse me?" Havok said; his voice polite, but confused, even as he glanced quickly at his teammates.
The two teens ended their kiss, and the girl made an embarrassed squeaking noise.
"Hullo?" Came the reply from the dark-haired boy. His voice was a soft tenor and held a southern England accent.
−−− − •••• • •−• | • −••− •• − •••
−−− − •••• • •−• | • −••− •• − •••
Stargate
In a sub-basement of a United States Air Force base that just happened to be built into the core of a mountain, there stands a metal and stone ring.
This ring, has a series of glyphs etched into its face. Symbols that denote various pieces of the night sky. In addition to those symbols are nine chevrons.
This is the Stargate.
The people who currently use it, know that if you lock in seven of those chevrons with the appropriate symbols, then it will create a stable wormhole between this device and one very much like it on a different planet within the galaxy.
If you add in an eight chevron, that allows the network to span outward into other, more distant galaxies and worlds.
They still had no idea on the exact reasons behind the ninth chevron. It was an enigma to them. Something unknown and unknowable.
Which was disturbing to these people of science. They believed in the physical sciences with a passion of hard won beliefs and work. They knew that any mystery could be solved, and that any trouble could be overcome with the application of science, intelligence and hard work.
They have met beings whose technology bordered on the realm of magic. Beings which are worshiped across hundreds, if not thousands of worlds, as gods. They have met creatures and aliens whose race and memory step back into the times before their sun was even a burning star in a third-rate protogalaxy that would one day be known as the Milky Way. These people have even met entities who have left the embrace of mortal physicality to take up existence as beings of energy, thought and emotion; beings that now exist outside of time and the laws of physical consequences.
They have met these beings, and in most cases fought against them and won. Their knowledge of, and belief in, science was founded in hard won battle, and grounded in the struggle for the survival of their world, species and way of life.
Of course, despite what they know. Despite what they believe in their heart of hearts. Physicality, science, is not always the answer.
Sometimes, there is another truth out there. Something greater than them. Something bigger.
There are things that even the Ascended do not know, cannot explain, and ultimately fear.
And sometimes, those things are just waiting for the right time to enter existence. Sometimes, they are just waiting for the next second, the next expectation, they wait for that next sense of supernatural awe in which those things can reach out and grasp the world and twist.
Sometimes, those things, even use science to do so.
Thus, it is, that on a certain Tuesday at 3:24 in the morning, that the stargate activated itself.
Energy flared into existence, a crackling hum of power that was more felt than seen or heard. Red lights flashed into existence above each chevron for a moment, before those elements stilled.
Alarms within the base blared into existence, hall lights reduced themselves in brightness by roughly forty percent, while red warning lights began flashing. A harsh voice rang out across hundreds of speakers, "Unscheduled, off-world activation."
The ring of glyphs began spinning; a harsh, stone grinding noise which acted as a curious offset to the still blaring alarms.
The first chevron locked into place. The red light above it began to glow balefully.
Then the second chevron.
A squad of soldiers entered the room. They rushed behind a series of barricades designed for just this purpose, and raised their rifles to their soldiers.
As the third chevron locked into place, thin leaves of metal iris closed over the opening in the middle of the circle, and the alarms died throughout the base, even as the warnings lights still strobed.
The fourth chevron locked into place.
Then the fifth.
Then the sixth, and seventh.
The sounds of safeties being clicked off clattered throughout the room.
To everyone's surprise, the gate did not activate. It did not generate the storm of energies, and tortured space-time with which a stable wormhole was generated from.
Instead an eighth chevron was locked into place.
In the control room which overlooked the gate, an additional four soldiers entered, watching the events as they took place on the floor beneath them.
Silence hung heavy across everything.
Finally, the ninth and final chevron locked into place.
Energy thrummed, and twisted. Space and time became something physical, appearing almost like trapped water, as it turned and twisted and writhed in the opening created by the ring.
The metal leaves that were designed to cover the event horizon, were ripped away when the energies flared forward, and pushed ahead, towards the soldiers and the control room.
Then the energies fell backwards, and seemed to twist outwards away from the control room.
Finally, everything stilled.
The gate stood there, glorious in its active state. The wormhole's event horizon appeared like a captured puddle of water that stood upright. A shimmering, shining mass of energized space-time.
There was the crackle hum of transport, the not quite audible hiss of something traveling through the wormhole on its way to them.
When the two beings emerged from the horizon, it made the same sound as when someone pulls their boot from thick mud. A squelching, sucking sound.
Everyone watched the two on the arrival platform. They were lost in their own world, total focused one on the other, and they were draped in chains. Heavy black chains that seemed to be covering some type of robes.
The soldiers were all confused. They had seen many people and beings arrive via the gate. Some had been chased by energy or projectile weapons fire. Some had to be carried. Some were running or jumping away from some destruction or odd, almost death. Most walked calmly.
This was the first time, that two people had stumbled through the gate as if pushed while in the middle of a kiss.
A pair that were far more focused on what they were doing, than on what was happening to them.
Finally, they separated, and the soldiers that were there got their first good look at the two people.
They were human, but that fact did not surprise them anymore. What did was how young the two were. They were roughly in their mid teens. The boy, had black, messy hair, while the girl had brown, bushy hair. A cord was tied around one set of their hands which even now were still clasped together.
Then, they turned and looked out at the room around them. They appeared startled, surprised. As if what they had come face to face with, was not what their expectations were to be.
The two quickly glanced at one another, as if each were weighing the others surprise as well.
Finally, they turned and looked at the gathered soldiers. The boy spoke, his voice, a soft tenor, held the lilting accent of someone raised in the southern parts of England, and a surprising amount of amusement.
"Well, this is not quite what I was expecting death to look like."
The girl huffed, even as she raised her hands, and by simple fact of the cord that tied them together, one of the boy's hands.
"Honestly Harry! They're pointing guns at us. You could at least pretend to be serious for that." The girl snarked at the boy. Her voice also held that same accent of southern England. Then she looked around at the soldiers, giving them a weak smile. "Well, hello there."
−−− − •••• • •−• | • −••− •• − •••
−−− − •••• • •−• | • −••− •• − •••
Star Trek
On what is referred to as The Guardian's Planet, rested what appeared to be a torus-shaped stone. It stood roughly twice the height of an average human, and the edges itself held a slight glow, even as odd lights appeared to float in the stone matrix.
Suddenly, mist appeared to gather in the center. It thickened, becoming an almost solid fog. Then the fog began glowing as well.
Within moments, Spock, Kirk and McCoy stepped back through the Guardian of Forever.
The three friends looked at one another for a moment, before glancing at the stone again. There was a heavy, silent pause, as the fog continued to show possibilities and past events.
Then the stone spoke again. Its voice was deep and unearthly; almost timeless in its inflection and tones. "Time has resumed its shape. All is as it was before. Many such journeys are possible. Let me be your gateway."
The three stared hard at the Guardian.
Before they could respond, Kirk's communicator chirped.
As he was pulling it out from its pouch, the Guardian twitched.
The fog that still showed images twisted and twitched; as if it were being pushed and pulled by some otherworldly power.
The Guardian spoke again, but this time its voice was confused and hesitant. "What is this? The gateway should not be opened!"
Then there was a pulse of something. A wave of energy and coldness.
Then the fog stabilized.
The image shown within the fog displayed two teenagers kissing in what appeared to be a dark, circular stone room. The boy had dark hair, and wore eye glasses, while the girl was brown-haired. They were dressed in clothes similar to those worn by the three officers in the past. The oddest thing though is that their hands were tied together with a gold ribbon. Two others, these adults in what appeared to be red robes, came closer and then gave them a hard push.
The two stumbled slightly, still kissing, and fell forward. Then there was another of those waves of energy and the two teenagers tumbled out of the Guardian.
They collapsed into a pile of limbs on the uneven ground in front of the device; their fall interrupting their kiss.
The dark-haired boy, glanced around them, and his eyes fell onto the three Starfleet officers. His eyes grew larger as he seemed to stare at Spoke.
Then he spoke, in accented, but clear, English. "Are you a high-elf?"
At those words, the girl's head snapped up, and her eyes also widened, before narrowing tightly. "He can't be. He's green."
The boy shrugged his shoulders. "So's Dobby."
"Honestly, Harry," the girl huffed. "High-elves and house-elves don't really share the same ancestor. House-elves are descended from brownies."
Kirk lowered his communicator. "Who are you two?"
The Guardian spoke. "They are from outside of time and space. They do not belong."
The two jumped slightly, and twisted around. The boy spoke. "Did... did that stone just speak?"
The girl's head swung back towards the three and then around them, before looking into the sky. "Harry?"
"Yes?"
"I think we have bigger things to worry about than a talking stone."
Harry glanced towards her, and noticed she was staring upwards. He followed her gaze and found himself looking at the sky and the three moons which seemed to fill it. He scrubbed at one eye, but did not lower his gaze. "Oh, bloody hell..."
−−− − •••• • •−• | • −••− •• − •••
−−− − •••• • •−• | • −••− •• − •••
Star Wars
Yavin 4
Anakin Solo stood on the top of the Palace of the Woolamander. One of the temples which he was most familiar with, after all he had dreamed of it for years prior to meeting Tahiri, and then they had both rescued the spirits of the Massassi children who were trapped within the Golden Globe.
He stared hard at the odd building that had replaced the Great Temple of the Jedi Praxeum. For as long as he could remember, the Great Temple had been a stone edifice, massive and almost unchanging. Now, it had been replaced with what Vua Rapuung had called a Shaper's damuteks. One of the Yuuzhan Vong's coral like buildings. Anakin knew that it was as alive as any other thing which the Vong used, despite the fact that he could not feel it within the Force.
He also knew that that was where Tahiri was at. She, he could feel.
And she was in pain.
He grimaced slightly as another wave of that pain washed over him. He pushed out with his sense, trying to help her.
Then the feeling was once again gone.
He shook his head, and climbed down from the top of the temple. The next day, he and Vua Rapunng were planning on sneaking back into the compound, a mission where they were hiding in plain sight. Vua as a disgraced Shamed One and Anakin as one of the more standard slaves.
Anakin did not particular like the idea, but he did not have a better plan.
With a sigh, he climbed through a window, and dropped the three meters to the floor of the main chamber. This was always an odd room to Anakin, even years later, he could feel the reflections of the ghosts of those Massassi children. It was an almost afterimage of pain and suffering that twisted the Force.
But that was when one was standing in the center of the room. There was a slight depression that was often filled with water, and the Golden Globe had hovered above that.
What was odd to Anakin was the similar circle depression on the western-most wall. This was a circle of stone which held odd symbols on it. These were not the harsh slash-like letters of the Massassi alphabet, nor were they the flowing elegant script of the Sith language. These were things he did not know; symbols that did not make sense to him.
He glanced around the room, and was in the process of leaving when he felt the Force tremble.
A wave of energy that twisted and writhed, and shattered against his awareness.
A wave of energy that seemed to pulse from circle of stone on the wall.
He watched, as some of the symbols began to glow. A flare of light and the Force. One symbol. Then a second. Then another. Until thirteen different icons were glowing. They shown with an greenish light that teased his Force senses.
Suddenly, there was another of those waves of energies. An almost scream in the Force as the air seemed to catch fire within the confines of the stone circle. Energy swirled, and twisted and finally pulsed with something that was almost joy.
Anakin stared dumbstruck at what appeared to be a pool of water on fire that was hanging on the water. He could feel the Force as it writhed within the pool, as it twisted and whirled and danced.
Then two figures fell out of the fire. Their presence in the Force was a burning, shining beacon, that sang to him. Of course, they were too engrossed in their kiss to notice him.
There was another of those pulses of energy and the pool of water disappeared with a flare of light, and the whoosh of air filling a vacuum.
He glanced down at the two people in front of him, and blinked. They were two teenagers, roughly his own age. The boy had dark hair, while the girl's was a brown color. They were also wearing what almost appeared to be Jedi robes, though they were shackled and they had an odd gold and silver ribbon wrapping around the hands that were holding each other. Ribbons that seemed to sing in the Force a song of acceptance and joy and love.
Anakin nudged the boy with a foot. "Who are you? How did you get here?"
The boy looked up, and blinked. Then he said something. Words filled with a harsh, hard consonant and odd tones and inflections. If Anakin had not been able to feel the boy's confusion, he would had been certain that those were quite negative words being spoken.
The boy and girl shared a look, and then glanced around the room. They tried to stand, but with the shackles that were still around their body they could not quite manage it.
The boy muttered something in those strange tones.
Which got the girl to reply. Her voice, quite pretty on its own, came out commanding.
The boy replied, and Anakin could feel his contrition and amusement.
After a moment, Anakin shrugged and knelt down next to the two teenagers. He looked at the chains, and felt them within the Force. He blinked as he could feel them within it, could feel the drain they were imposing on the two teenagers. But, he also knew how they worked.
He reached out, and touched one of the strange icons on the right cuff around the boy's wrists. In response, all the cuff's sprang open. The boy gave him a quick smile, and Anakin repeated the process for the girl's cuffs.
The two quickly stood, and Anakin followed. The girl was babbling slightly, still in that odd language.
Anakin again asked. "Who are you two?"
This stopped the girl's babbling and she looked at him. Then she once again glanced around the room, frustration laced her Force presence.
Then the boy reached over to his left arm and appeared to pull a stick out of nothing. A stick that writhed in the Force, one that almost sang with energy.
The boy reached over and touched the girl's lips with the end of the stick. Then he said something in those harsh consonants. And with that, the Force flared; energy burned at his awareness, almost overloading his senses.
The girl looked at him, and gave him a smile. "Now can you understand me?"
Anakin blinked. "Uh... yeah..."
And then there was another of those blinding flares of Force energy. Anakin blinked, and looked towards the boy again. Watching him lower the stick from his own lips.
"Hi, I'm Harry and this is Hermione. Are we dead now?"
The girl huffed. "Honestly, Harry."
Anakin blinked and focused on the boy. "I... my name's Anakin. What.. how did you get here?"
−−− − •••• • •−• | • −••− •• − •••
−−− − •••• • •−• | • −••− •• − •••
Ringworld/Known Space
Louis Wu stared at the objects around him. Even after everything he had seen or done in his long life, the things that were hanging on these walls were new to him.
First, there was a stone arch. It was on a platform and roughly the same height as Speaker-to-Animals. Surrounding it were a number of skeletons, some dressed in robes, others just discarded, almost dust bones. The most recent one appeared as if it had stumbled through the arch just a few centuries ago. A desiccated mummy of a man, which wild black hair. Many of the skeletons had chains around their wrists.
Then there were the strange symbols which were painted on the various walls. Some of the symbols appeared to be painted on with a brownish red paint, that Louis knew was very old, dried blood.
After turning around again, he looked up at the doorway. It was situated in the wall, close to the ceiling. Nearly six meters from the ground where he currently stood.
He turned back to the arch. Something about it, called to him. Almost like whispers.
There was a thud. He glanced that way and saw that it was Speaker. The Kzinti's massive bulk seemed even larger down here at the bottom of this room. A moment later, Nessus floated down, and settled to the ground with a soft sigh.
"We should leave this place," came the stereophonic voice.
Speaker sniffed. "I find myself agreeing with the coward. This place has an ill feeling to it."
Louis nodded slowly. He knelt down next tot he newest looking mummy and stared hard at it for a long moment. "I think I can understand. There's something off about this room."
He picked up a thin stylus that the mummy had been holding. It was roughly twelve inches long, and had stylized carvings on it. He frowned, as it looked, and even smelled, like a piece of cyprus.
"What is that?" snarled Speaker.
Louis looked up, and noticed that the cloth that was in the middle of the arch started twitching. There was a defined breeze coming through it.
And he could distinctly hear the whispers now.
Suddenly, two kids appeared in the middle of the arch. They were locked together, kissing one another and appeared dressed in robes very similar to the ones that the mummified man was wearing. Though these two children had shackles on their own wrists, as well as a gold and silver cord tying them together.
He blinked.
The kids stumbled to the ground, the fall breaking their kiss, and sending them sprawling into a mass of limbs.
After a second, the boy bounced to his feet, and took a defensive position over the girl. At least attempted to do so. He was hindered by his own chains, as well as the cord that tied one of his wrists to the one of the girl's. Then he paused. He was staring straight at the puppeteer. And pointing.
"What the bloody hell is that?"
Louis frowned in thought. The boy was speaking in English. English with a very heavy, but familiar, accent.
The girl was slower in moving. She did not stand, but rather sat herself up straight, while using her free hand to rub at her hair. A pretty chestnut color, that held a significant number of wavy curls.
"Language, Harry," she said in an almost, rote, automatic way, using English laced with that same lilting accent.
"I am a Puppeteer," replied Nessus. "And you two must be dangerous criminals to be chained like that. I say we leave, and leave them here."
Louis frowned, and glanced at Speaker; for a long moment, and not for the first time, he wished Teela was still around.
He shook his head. "No, I don't think so. We'll get those chains off them, and then we'll all get out of here."
