Triviis

Leo looked at Jinx's gun, shifting it from one hand to another, testing the weight. Oh, wow. This thing was dangerous. Why did he just offer to help a possibly psycotic, hot girl fix a gun, pretty much? He had no clue. None the less, Leo had faith in his abilities. After all, who made a flying, decked out ship and a moving table that may or may not have fallen in love with the ship, not to mention learned to comunicate with a robo-dragon head that could only talk with machine sounds? This guy! Thinking of the dragon and the ship made him feel a bit guilty, as usual.

Leo had crashed the mechanical dragon, once, and all that was left of the bronze creature was its head, which he built into the ship. Leo snapped out of his guilt thoughts before speaking to Jinx with a grin.

"I can fix this if my dad isn't Hephaestus, Greek god of fire and machi- oh. No, nevermind. Not about my dad part. The fixing part." There was a confused expression on his face,. "This thing... is fine, nothing wrong. But wherever you got it from, dude, tell me because I so want one."


-
Natsu
-

Natsu turned and noticed a guy pulling the one sevetal had now called, "medic" along. He grinned, stomach finally full as he walked up to him, standing in front of Scout. "Where're you going? Don't suppose you know where a wizard guild is around here, do ya? Preferably one called Fairy Tail?"

"Don't know where we're goin', don't care eitha," Scout said.  He was only sure of one thing, and that was that he wanted to get out of this mess before someone figured out what was wrong with the weapons.  If anyone followed him other than his team, he supposed he would be fine, as long as they didn't look like they wanted to shoot him.  If there was one thing he didn't want to find out, it was if he was still linked to the respawn device.

Then the second question the strange person had asked hit him.  Wizards.  He narrowed his eyes.  "I don't even know where I am," he said in a darker tone, "but I do know dat wizahds-"  He cut himself off, not entirely sure what to say for a moment, before spitting out the first thing he could think of.  "Nobody likes wizards!" he said, a lot louder than he really meant to.  He still had the Sandman in one hand, and he held it back up as he had been doing before.  They were leaving before someone managed to start shooting, and that included the reluctant Medic, who he pulled along behind him.

Ankha

Ankha sat on the grass, wide eyed. She found a few of the men to be quite attractive, but probably still burdened with peasantry, none the less. She heard a crow caw in the distance; a few flew overhead. She didn't bother to talk to anyone, they didn't seem all that worthy to her anyway. They all seemed confused. All that she could think to say was something about her new birthday present, which reminded her. Ankha reached her arm up and felt for a tiara. It was there. The cat felt relieved that her sign of authority was still with her. She felt tired and did not want to get up, although the grass made her legs itchy. Reluctantly, she stood up and brushed the grass and dirt off of her behind.

***

Kongu

Kongu had just finished a battle with a very hostile rahi, a mostly robotic animal. He huffed, somewhat out of breath. Despite Kongu being almost entirely a robot, he still had a very strong spirit. In his world, every type of animal was, in some way, mechanical. Despite this, they all had souls and some were even smart enough to have feelings.

His team consisted of 5 others that all had different elemental powers. One of them, Jaller, the fire type, called Kongu over. Kongu responded, "What is it, brother?" He jogged over to Jaller, but while he jogged a terrible migrane stopped him dead in his tracks. Everything seemed to blur, and then went black.

***

Kongu's body, being mostly electronic, was shut down right as he entered the mysterious grasslands. The 7 foot tall, green robot would be out cold for about a half of an hour.

***

Engineer

Engineer had to be very careful around all these strange people. He followed Scout as he dragged Medic. He agreed entirely with scout. He hated wizards.

Oh dang. This chick was nuts. She seemed waaaay to trigger-happy. No matter, Leo continued to converse with the girl. "Sorry. While a new toy sounds good..." Leo let a flame appear on the tip of his index finger and he held it up before the flame vanished. "These are Leo-only gifts. Only way you can have this awesome thing is if you're me," he grinned. There's also the fact that his dad was the god of machines and fire, butthat's only a small detail, right? Leo pulled a wrench from his magical toolbelt and an impish smile appeared on his face. "We could try to change your gun to something Leo-approved, though."

-
Natsu
-

Natsu frowned. Nobody liked wizards? What!? He bolted towards Scout and Medic as they began leaving again. "What do you mean, 'nobody likes wizards'? We make up the whole country, almost, and kep things in order!" He looked around, suddenly calm. "Where am I, again?" Apparently, some are slow on the intake.

Natsu slowed to a walk. "Funny... I know it wasn't a Fairy Tail wizard then. Unless you are bad people- then you may have ran into Erza. She's this girl in armor, can summon weapons, tries to kill me and Grey... you know her?" Natsu paused before continuing, "You're not bad, though. I bet it wasn't her." he then Grinned, a large grin full of happiness and naivity (the word being used atm to nicely replace stupidity) "So I'm Natsu! Who're you?"

Scout eyed the odd person, apparently a wizard, suspiciously. "I'm Scout," he proclaimed, "and I'm pretty sure dat if der were dat many wizahds around, people wouldn't be tellin' me dey don't exist."

He didn't particularly like this person. Scout had never met a wizard that hadn't tried to kill him. Though of course, that was because he had only met one. Of course, he had also hated Medic when they first met, so who knew what could happen in time. Not that he cared right then.

He heard Medic mention something about them getting lost, and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause we're not already lost," he said quietly, "come on before some crazy person shoots us or, I dunno, turns us all into pumpkins!"

Sherlock coninued to just stand there, arms crossed like a small child stuck in a time out, watching everyone with a look of upmost distaste on his face, seemingly disgusted by the fact that his brain had chosen this moment to have a complete breakdown and start creating halucinations of seemingly every meaningless thing he'd ever seen, watched or read and made certain to boot off his hard drive as quickly as was neurologically possible. But aparently, his process for deleting meaningless data, or defragging his hard drive as he prefered to put it when speaking to people so they'd have some sort of semi-accurate estimate of what he meant, was inherently flawed because the only other thing besides a full on mental break down that this could possibly be was some kind of completely absurd 'transdimensional or transuniversal' transference of the atoms, molecules, etc. that made up his body into another universe or dimension as was so frequently used as a plot devise in the space-thrillers John insisted on watching. And, as much as he'd like to forget the meaningless drivel his brain picked up from those shows, evidently some of it insisted on sticking around.

Yes, his brain was defiantly due for a good sanitization if this is what it was throwing at him over some stupid blood loss.

Although, the longer the hallucination went on, and the more beings that appeared out of thin air looking just as confused as he was hateful, the less probable his hallucination theory was becoming, although, it still hadn't shrunk to less than 54% probability yet so he was still sticking with it.

He looked around for another half second, starting to drum his fingers on his jacket sleeve impatiently, because while the migraine was annoying, the apparent demigod, son of some greek fire and invention god whose name he had deleted long ago; Leo, was starting to tick him off. The kid, while remarkably good with the advanced electronics of the very anime looking blue haired Bipolar, MPD, ADHD and likely psychopathic girl, was somehow oblivious to the tell tail signs of her just maybe being not a good candidate for free weapon repairs.

The incredibly obvious signs being that she was talking to herself, proclaiming the need to shoot something -more likely someone- and practically bouncing up and down on her toes waiting for her gun to be fixed so she could go on another killing rampage while Leo was fixing the gun, and moping and looking murderous when he said it was working, but not working and even going so far as to point it at his head and pull the trigger several times. Another tip off was the powder burns on her sleeves that were visible from here as well as some dust and glass shards stuck into her long braids from where they had touched the pulverized derbies likely left by her guns. That, and the extremely suggestive fact that the majority of the 'clothing' covering her torso was a belt made of .75+ cal bullets meant that she might as well be wearing a name tag saying

'Hello I'm a: Psychotic serial killer. I like to kill people, because its fun.'

But yet, fire controlling Leo either remained oblivious or, in layman's terms, did not get the full serial killer vibe the girl was emitting like a radiator.

Eventually, after another 2 seconds of watching, seeing as the probability of this being a hallucination had dropped to slightly over 70% and that the halucination was aparently going to very long winded, Sherlock decided that he might as well entertain himself and interject himself into Leo and the serial killer's conversation.

Even if that meant he would start mumbling like an idiot by the time the gun collector got down from his little roost to try and fix some of the collateral damage he'd helped cause.

So, having made up his mind, he forced his protesting body to march purposefully up to the two of them like he owned the place, momentarily forgetting that he was still disguised as an extremely ugly street runner, glare disdainfully at the blue haired girl and demand, as if it were the most direct and clear question in the word;

"How many? Or don't you keep count."

Of course, by this he meant 'people killed' but even he had learnt to expect most people to be confused by the first set of questions he asked them.

Chopper, being the curious kid he was, began to follow after the doc guy and his friends. They seemed to be the group who was most likely not to murder him and the group that really wanted to go and do something, maybe figure out how to get home. And there was nothing Chopper wanted to do more then get home. What if his crew mates got hurt or sick? None of them really knew how to take care of themselves.

He gleefully hopped from tall patch of grass to the next, as if trying to keep sneaky and not reveal himself to the three humans. But this was obviously hard to do given Chopper's stand out looks. He kept trying to make eye contact with the dove on the doc mans shoulder, hoping to get in a conversation with it. Birds were smart creatures, maybe it knew something.

Natsu laughed at Scout's statement. "I don't know where you're from, but where I'm from wizards are everywhere- celestial, ice, you name it. I'm a wizard with dragon slayer magic." He pointed at himself as he said this, before his eyes widened. "Unless...." Natsu looked around with a rather humorous expression of freight on his face, "Unless it was all just an illusion...." Really, natsu isn't the smartest of people.

------
Leo
--------

Leo looked up as a really unattractive man walked up to Jinx and was asking her a question. Though it wasn't directed at him, Leo couldn't help but speak up. "How many of what? How many fingers do I have? All ten. how many lovely ladies fall for me? Too many to count. What? I'm telling the truth." Leo grinned as he looked back at the gun Jinx owned which refused to work.

"I suggest we turn it into a nacho-cheese gun! How awesome would that be?" How non-deadly-Leo-friendly would that be? It sounded like a good idea to him.

Leo shrugged in response to Jinx's statement. Honestly he was unsure why he approached a dangerous, hot, psycotic chick. Maybe it was the looks. Maybe curiosity. Or maybe it was the fact that he needed something to do with the chaos running rampant and his ADHD doing the same. No matter, here he was talking.

Jinx didn't seem to like his nacho cheese idea. "Why not?" Leo asked, taking out a screw driver from his belt and putting the wrench away. "Nacho cheese is a fun American food that promotes satisfaction world-wide! Not to mention it's great to eat while watching ball games!" he joked, before thinking again, trying to think of a non-violent thing for the gun to be. That means he can definately mark out greek fire blasters and simply making the gun functional again. Leo thought of different ideas while he played with the screw driver, tossing it from one hand to another as he thought of ideas out loud. "A bubble blower... Artemis's crossbo-nevermind on that idea... a pencil sharpener that flies... a second version of my walking table, only one that doesn't love a ship engine... a strange flying gun that doesn't shoot that can be used for transportation..." Leo yawned, done with brainstorming, though he still had no idea what to do. He layed down on his back, still fiddling with the screw driver. "Sorry, dude. Can't make any weapons with that thing, anymore. Nope. I can make something else, though. Something non-violent, as it's lost it's violent purposes." He just diidn't trust this girl with a gun, is all, but he was trying to make an excuse so she wouldn't kill him.

Sherlock just scoffed at Leo's completely ridiculous cheese gun idea, although, comparatively, it was a better idea than just fixing the madwoman's gun, that looked perfectly functional in all respects, which was impressive as the piece of weaponry seemed to be built almost entirely for show as something as simple as a slimmer barrel would compress the energy released by the bullets as the explosives in them detonated forcing the bullets out at a much higher velocity. Her choice in hair style and clothing concreted this, as wearing a bikini and 5 inch long shorts with bullets mounted to them didn't exactly seem to be the most combat friendly of options. What if someone came up behind her, side stepped her gun after coming out of a narrow alley or jumped down from above and yanked her hair so she was sent sprawling, then kicked the massive and probably extremely heavy gun away from her so she was pretty much defenseless unless she wanted to conduct hand to hand combat in a hooker's costume? No good author would allow such an easily defeated character into their story and given societies current fascination with mostly naked femmae fatales of the anime variety he deduced that she was most likely a video game character of some sort. Although, he honestly had no recollection of where he had seen her before for his brain to be able to present him with such a life like facsimile of her, lowering the probability of his hallucination theory to only slightly over 63%.

And, when she stated that counting was over rated thus classifying her as the coldblooded killing type with not a shred of the need to prove herself, and thus likely no violent backstory, he defiantly thought it was a good idea that Leo was proposing such absurd ideas like bubble guns, walking tables and flying pencil sharpeners.

The whole time Leo was going through his little brain storming session he just stood there, staring at the blue haired serial killer with a look of upmost boredom written on every inch of his being, which he figured looked a little odd given amount of mehron synwax he had used to make himself look a good 20 years older than he really was. Although, as he thought about that more, if this were a hallucination, it was typical for the person imagining all the pop culture characters and other disinteresting drivel to look like how they perceive themselves, and while he was proud of his costume, he certainly didn't hold it as his ideal self image. And that couldn't have been something his psyche had somehow fantasized about without his knowledge as he only came up with the concept a half hour ago. Right about the same time that he saw the brake cleaner sitting up on a shelf and had the thought of using it as a flame thrower as it was both an aerosol and contained a whole host of flammable chemicals such as Acetone, Butane, Isopropanol, Methanol, Methyl Ethyl Ketone and Stoddard Solvent to name just a few, plus the toxic Propylene Glycol which is what makes murder by anti-freeze so effective, except that's generally accomplished by the sweeter tasting Ethylene Glycol.

Anyway, because of the fact that he was still holding the can of brake cleaner and the fire lighter in one hand and still had a generous coating of mehron synwax on his face the probability that this was simply a hallucination dropped to about 48%. So in other words, bang goes that theory.

His look of boredom changed to a look of mild interest as he pulled the uncomfortably large backpack off, dropped it on the ground in front of him and started rummaging through it, looking for the water bottle filled with diluted dish soap and baking soda. However, by the time he had found it

-and pulled out almost everything else in the bag including his trench coat, scarf, shoes, dress pants, several other sets of disguises, one of which appeared to be filthy hobo clothing, a box of different kinds of 'studio waxes', at least six other unmarked water bottles that likely did not contain anything remotely similar to water a 1000ml round bottom beaker stuffed full of what looked like several hundred deferent plastic bags of chemicals, a silenced glock 17 he'd stolen off an American secret service agent, at least 6 prepaid cellphones and a small ziplock bag containing something that looked suspiciously like plastic explosive.-

his brain was working on Leo's theory as to why everyones weapons, for show or otherwise, were not working but had absolutely nothing wrong with them. And to test his theory, he paused in the middle of pulling the cap off the water bottle, set it down on top the pile of seemingly random junk, picked up the fire lighter he had set down on the grass and tried lighting it to no avail. interesting...

He looked at Leo and asked in a semi-interested tone; "If my lighter doesn't work, the serial killer's gun doesn't work and everyone else's weapons don't work, but yet your 'magical' ability to create fire on command and withstand it is still perfectly functional, then what's the common denominator and thus the answer to why certain things work while others don't?" He paused almost imperceptibly, possibly to give them a chance to reply but answered his own question far to quickly for that to be the case.

"The common denominator is that all the weapons that don't work are fully assembled and not biologically attached, linked or otherwise part of their hosts body. Meaning, there is some kind of program capable of recognizing the patterns in which matter is formulated to create a weapon and change that pattern just enough so that the weapon no longer functions. However, in the case of Leo where no scientific structure to cause his pyrotechnics to function exists, the program cannot disable it."

He picked up the brake cleaner again and held it out to Leo saying; "Spray that in the air, away from the bystanders, and light a small flame by the nozzle as your spraying it. It should create a flame thrower like effect that will travel 5-6 feet in front of you. I want to see if that would be recognized as a weapon or not."

Chopper had with little success, tried to shush the bird before he was revealed. But alas he was spotted. Chopper jumped slightly with surprise, not expecting to be found so easily. Chopper covered his eyes, thinking if he couldn't see the man then the man couldn't see him. Darn it. Why did the bird have to alert the humans? He peeked out from behind one of his hooves, glaring at the dove. "Quiet bird! I don't want any trouble!" Chopper whispered harshly. But by now it was too late, the medic had spotted him.

He covered his eyes again, as if he was perfectly hidden. "I'm not hiding in the grass you sh!tty human!"

Leo watched with amusement as the strange man take out various items from his bags. Was this guy a agent or terrorist or what? Whoever it was, he was apparently really smart. And also took Leo's statement for granted, which was funny. He just said weapons wouldn't work since he didn't want Jinx to have a weapon, really. Either way, the guy just made him seem pretty smart, as Leo saw it. So he wasn't going to complain, of course.

When the man handed him the brake cleaner, Leo eagerly accepted it. "Dude, I don't have a clue about what you said earlier, but I've always wanted to do that!" He stepped away from the group as to avoid burning anyone and sprayed the stuff into the air, lighting a small flame, and... Vwoosh! Fire shot out just as the man had described. Leo's face had a whide grin on it as he stopped spraying, the flames quickly disappearing as if they were never there. "That was so awesome!"

He handed the can back to the man. He would get along well with Annabeth, he thought. Both the man and Annabeth are smart and say things that are smart but make no sense. Seriously, they could be smarty buddies, or something.

Scout eyed the small creature following them with poorly masked agitation. He wouldn't have minded if it had just followed them, but no. It had to hide. And he didn't like how it -he?- was talking to Medic. Too bad, he had originally seemed friendly.

Still, he recognized Medic's tone of voice, and decided to be quiet. He had learned, through listening to many conversations between Medic and other people (usually Soldier), that sometimes blatantly yelling at people was not the right option. He didn't know what his teammate was up to, but his temper had yet to dictate an immediate response, so he let it go. If the smaller creature kept it up, though, he might meet the Sandman, or at least some harsh words.

Chopper waited a few moments after the man turned around to continue in following them, no longer attempting to hide himself. Really, all Chopper wanted was answers. He wanted to know where he was and how he was going to get back to his friends. They were probably confused and worried sick. And all this worrying about them being worried made Chopper more worried and desperate. This group of men seemed to be the only people attempting to figure out what was happening, and Chopper was willing to get in on the action.

And on top of that the man with the bird almost sounded as if he was challenging Chopper. And Chopper knew never to back down from a challenge. But this challenge was challenging. The tall grass was rather hard for someone with legs as short as Choppers to walk through and he knew that when the going gets tough its time to get going.

"I'll show you keeping up. Sh!tty human." Chopper muttered. One of the perks of being a magical reindeer was that he could easily change forms.

Transformation yay:

Chopper grinned to himself, finding it much easier to walk though the grass now with his extended height and lengthy legs. His transformation was nearly silent, so unless you were to watch you wouldn't have known he changed.

Sherlock laughed in an almost sinister way at Leo's claim to not knowing what the hell he had just said and stated in a bemused tone as he accepted the aerosol can, placing it on top of the pile of his belongings; "Glad to hear you found the experiment entertaining, if not informative."

So, he was right. This meant that the program used to distinguish weapons from non weapons functioned similarly to a human brain, likely working off of experience versus analyzing every thing completely every time it came across it like a computer would. And, if whatever had brought them here had experience with ridiculous weapons like those carried by almost everyone here, and knew to disarm everyone lest they all kill each other as was some peoples clear intent, that meant that this was not the first nor the last time this was going to happen.

With that, he picked up the partially uncapped bottle of home made wax and grease paint remover, pulled the bright orange cap off all the way and sprayed the concoction all over his face, causing the paint and wax to start to dissolve. He waited for a few seconds before picking up a small discolored rag from his pile of things and wiping the rest of the wax, paint and baking soda and soap water off, effectively removing 20 some years worth of wrinkles, moles and other imperfections, basically making him look like a completely different person aside from the very distinctive street runner style clothes.

"So," Sherlock said as he started to pack everything away again, making sure to put the bottles in the bottom of the bag, half the clothes on top of that, the suspected plastic explosive and the round bottom beaker nested protectively inside those then the other half of the clothes, costume supplies and cellphones on top of and surrounding the beaker like packing material presumably to prevent it from breaking.

"You're a ADHD, tech 'n fire demigod, who was about to sit down and have a nice meal with some friends right before you got sucked into another universe, yes? And, just out of curiosity, are you always treated as the 3rd wheel in social situations, missions, etcetera?"

As he finished, he zipped the bag shut and swung it up onto his shoulder again as if his line of interrogation was the most off handed and normal thing to occur in the universe.

Ankha

Ankha took note of all of her surroundings. None of them seemed particularly friendly, although there was one pink haired human that seemed a tad bit genial, although it was shrouded by the fact of his sheer stupidity. She acknowleged the fact that there was an apparent sociopath with a strange arsenal of weapons. If she was in a war, where was her armor? She decided to follow the people in the red apparel, and elected that it was the best choice, the blue haired bikini babe freaked her out anyway. She kept a slow strolling pace, just enough to not let them get too far ahead.

Engineer

The Engineer looked over his shoulder. There was a small cat walking on her hind legs. She was wrapped in bandages and wore a blue headpiece. He thought to himself. Some strange things are happenin' around here. A bunch a' creepy critters.Engie just had to deal with the fact that their hiding place wasn't going to be very secret. He looked ahead of him and saw something with a dark green sheen in the not-so-distant grass. It was about 15 yards in front of him. He said to his comrades, "Hold on boys, looks like there's something up there." It looked like some sort of metal, or something mechanical. He took into account that he might not be any extra ammo around this part of wherever they were. This in mind, he took out his pistol, and made sure not to shoot unless it was absolutely necessary.

Leo's mouth slid open in shock as the guy removed his disguise. That was quite unexpected. This guy was officially the awesomest non-immortal dude ever. He was mortal, right? Maybe. What really got Leo, however, was when the man pretty much said a quick summary of his life. He got everything from ADHD to the third wheel part correct.

Leo looked down sheepishly and nodded, disliking the fact that he was admitting to these things. Was this guy some sort of detective or something? Seemed that way. Leo was quiet a moment before an impish grin appeared on his face once again. "Dude, you're like the king detective. I get you knowing the demigod part but that last thing? Wow. Wait, did Jason set you up to this as payback for that run-away fired chicken incident? No, nevermind. He doesn't hold grudges." Leo looked around before looking back at the man and blue-haired girl, "Well then, mister detective, sir- where are you from? And you, blue hair?"