Of travel I've had my share, man.

[theincredibleherc]

Who: Hercules theincredibleherc and YOU!
What: Hercules arrives
Where: All Over Philly
When: During the Philly camp period.
Warnings/Notes: Possible language, not anticipating anything too serious.



Falling for what seemed like hours and hours is an unfortunate thing, but it's a damn sight better than being stuck in a completely empty mockery of a reality that Hera had created. And hearing voices in his head whispering about saving some place he'd never heard of? That's damn weird, but par for the course when dealing with faeries, just like waking up in a place you definitely didn't fall asleep. Never one to concern himself with the finer details of a request for help...and because anything was better than being stuck in an empty universe...he mentally made up his mind to actually take this at face value. A request for help and a mysterious tugging in some unknown direction was enough to get him up and moving.

And so that is how the Lion of Olympus arrived in the ruins of Philadelphia. Striding out of the forest and into the ruined city, his mace casually carried over one shoulder, Herc noted the signs. Stuffing a hand into his belt pouch, he pulled out his Starkphone and checked for signal, just to be sure. Finding none, he shrugged and casually flicked over to a music all, beginning to blare Guns and Roses. The noise, he figured, could be a beacon to anyone around...or to any enemies that might be lurking nearby. Either was better than being alone.

The longer he went without sight or sound of anyone, the more noise he decided to make. That mostly entailed singing along with whatever song came up on his playlist, a range of classic rock and hair metal that Amadeus had left on there. And a few odd choices that he figured were gags left by Hank.



Eventually he'll find his way to The Philadelphia Free Library, figuring that maybe he could find an old newspaper or something inside. Pushing his way through the door, he stepped inside and called out, just to be sure.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

Comments

[wherenoonegoes]

Hold it there.

[As Herc enters the boundary where a member of the squad is teleported back to, a dragon with a helmeted rider comes down from the sky and hovers before him. The speaker is the rider, his voice being just the slightest bit nasally.]

Who are you, where are you from, and how'd you get here?

[awfulcer]

Dixon's been pretty apathetic and sluggish lately, mostly cozying into nooks and crannies of various buildings as well as he can to alternately shiver and nap as the morgul bladewound sucks the energy and warmth from him. Currently, he's huddled under a blanket underneath the cash register at the Wawa. He probably wouldn't rouse for a fire alarm or a stampede of horses.

Pop music, though. Dixon perks right up, hearing some sound that sounds like a modernized Boomtown Rats, and drags his carcass up out of the convenience store like a moth to the flame. Blanket wrapped around him, he shuffles his way out the front door, peering through the twilight until he catches sight of a guy who looks like should be on WWE.

"Did you find that here?"

No hello, no who the hell are you. People have been popping up all over; that's pedestrian by now. But finding some kind of way to avoid draining his iPod down is in Dixon's top 5 priorities.

[invisibleheir]

Arturia is keeping herself sort of busy. Sort of. She has that copy of Le Morte d'Arthur in her lap and Excalibur testing against the wall next to her where she's sitting near the door, mostly as some sort of self-imposed sentry duty and mental self-flagellation reading about her failure over and over again. Good job, Arturia. When Hercules enters, she scrambles to her feet, the scabbarded blade held loosely in her left hand.

"Hello and welcome." Arturia eyes Hercules, trying to decide if he should be counted as a threat or not.

"You're new."

Into the Ruined City

[unsealthecatbox]

"You're not into stealth, are you?

Ange can't deny that's quite the entrance. Here comes a man, blaring some music in English and pretty much alerting everyone in the city of his presence. She can respect someone who wants to make a grand entrance.

"You are lucky there aren't any enemies in this place. You'd be swarmed by them already"

[shipoftheseus]

The ruins of Philly were way too novel and interesting for Phos to linger in the library for very long. Granted, every place they've seen since arriving here were equally new and exciting, but the streets and most of the other abandoned buildings were much more exciting. The library was the one thing that felt a little familiar, and thus they really couldn't be bothered.

So it was while they were out and about, marveling over something relatively mundane like a trashed convenience store, that the music and singing caught their attention. Carelessly leaning out a broken window, they spotted the newcomer quickly enough.

"Hey!" Shouting, they waved a metallic gold arm for attention. "Hey! What's that?"

The new face was distinctly less interesting than the apparently sourceless music. There had apparently been a few new arrivals while they were separated from the group, and everyone here was so strange-looking that the strangeness was starting to feel ordinary. Another organic human-probably person, nothing that wild this time around beyond a particularly large and hairy frame, ho hum.

[balladin]

The sound of the voice and door competed with one of C.C. Deville's best guitar riffs (one of the best opening riffs ever in the opinion of Robbie’s dated trashfest musical tastes). Poison won, and Robbie failed to pick up on who had entered from the other side of the large main room.

“Cause baby we’ll be,” he sang under his breath. There are some things that can be resisted. The chorus of “Talk Dirty to Me” is not one of them. “At the drive-in, in the old man’s Ford…”

But where was the music coming from? It was a little too vibrant for the earworm jukebox. He looked around, assuming it must be Dixon wasting precious dwindling battery.

He was certainly not expecting Hercules to come strolling in. Robbie knows him by reputation – who doesn’t – and there’s some mutual acquaintances. The cavalry has arrived, and, if it’s not a friend, it’s at least someone he hasn’t screamed at or attacked in recent years.

How to get off on the right foot? Of all the gin joints in all the worlds… no, he can’t. It’s too cliché, even for him. He has standards, and Avengers get only his best banter (or mouthing off). There are important questions to be asked, too, like ‘are the rest of the Avengers here?' That can wait until he’s cool with getting rescued by the Avengers when he’s not even in uniform. It’s a matter of pride. Frankly, he feels underdressed in street clothes. Undersized, too, but he could eat a cow daily and not match Hercules.

He gives Herc a small nod, with a serious expression that breaks away into a grin. “Greco-Roman history belongs in the 900s.”

[mark_in_the_sands]

Having escaped the battle on the hilltop with minimal physical injuries ('having your soul almost eaten' is more psychological than physical as it turns out), Cassie had taken it upon herself to range slightly further afield to keep an eye out for encroaching danger and for supplies further outside of hobbling range. The sounds of music in an otherwise-abandoned city are worth investigating. She's not sure if it's a trap or if the person responsible is ignorant of potential dangers or supremely confident in their ability to take on all comers. From the size of the man when she finally sees him, and the size of the mace he's carrying, she's guessing the third (she probably couldn't even lift that thing).

Now to find out if he's friendly. Presenting a small and travel-worn blonde wearing silver bracelets half-covering her forearms and a Grecian-inspired red and gold top over blue jeans.

"Nice mace," she says by way of greeting.

[greyerrant]

"Hello."
A a burly, if pale figure looks up from where he is half-slumped against a desk, clad in an old chiton of a sort somewhat similar to what greeks used to wear and eyes Hercules wearily.

"I assume by your appearance, you aren't a foe. But if you are with the black-cloaked figures that assailed us earlier, then say it now, so we can dispense with talk. "