Time Portal-Return of the Kings

[Ambrosious]

Larry was an ordinary guy in an ordinary world. He went to an ordinary high school and an even more ordinary college. He had an ordinary girl friend that some considered mousy. He worked at an ordinary job in an ordinary book store in an ordinary rural area of Virginia. The bookstore was located in the Appalachian Mountains and the people in the area were descended from Scottish, Irish, English and German ancestors. Maybe that explains the very extraordinary text that fell into Larry’s hands one fine summer day.

The book was written in old English style and was a little difficult to read. It had ink drawn pictures and the title read “Studies of Time and the Relationships of Objects in Time.” The author had a very proper sounding name-Sir Drake Mandlebox and the cover was quite faded and moldy. Larry examined the book and decided to take the book home for a closer examination then put it out of his mind as he continued cataloging other tomes of knowledge.

Larry got home at his usual time and popped a frozen dinner in the microwave. He set the timer and phoned his ordinary girlfriend. He made a feeble excuse so as to not see her for the evening and hung up the phone as the microwave beeped readiness. He took out the frozen dinner and sat down at his dinette with the book from the store. Larry started to read as he took his first bites of his dinner.

Engrossing himself in the book, Larry barely noticed it getting darker in the room and absently reached over to switch on the old gas lights his house was equipped with. The light threw a yellow glow over everything in the room and that is when Larry noticed something about the book’s pages. There was text under the writing on each and every page. Only one page’s hidden text could be seen however and Larry began to read.

“Portals rich and portals poor
Open up the once slammed door
Bring forth to me on this summer’s night
Heroes of old, kings and men of might

Under my command do I bring here
Legends of ages that I hold dear
Let the walls of time come crumbling down
And bring to me heroes to circle around.”

Larry smirked at the simple poetry and put the book down as it was getting to be quite late and made his way to bed. He lay awake for several minutes thinking back to the hidden poem he had found. What if one could actually bring forth legends from the past? Who would Larry bring? Would he want to meet historical figures or kings or presidents? Maybe great thinkers or scholars. How about some of the greatest writers of all time? Yes, Larry would choose a writer. After all, his life was books. As soon as his mind settled on the idea of bringing back a great writer, the air in his house became thicker, almost viscous. He continued to play out his fantasy. Who would he most like to meet? Larry thought of two authors immediately. H.G. Wells and Robert A. Heinlein.

The quite of the night was shattered with a sudden clap of thunder that shook his wooden shelves with force. Larry sat upright in bed and was amazed at the quickness thunderstorms developed in the mountains. He lay his head back onto his pillow, only to hear a crash from the other room. His immediate thought was that an intruder had broken into his house so Larry reached under the bed and pulled out a golf club he kept for security reasons. He slowly made his way into his other room and turned on the gas light suddenly so that the intruders would be blinded initially. The room was bathed in a yellow glow once again and Larry came face to face with not one, but two intruders.

The first man was wearing old fashioned spectacles and a plaid coat and breeches with a watch fob that seemed ridiculously long attached to the coat. The second man looked perturbed at the intrusion and was sharply dressed, if this was 1955. Both men looked around the living room/kitchen with slight bemusement in their faces. The second intruder was the first one to speak.

“You, young man. Who are you and what is this place you’ve brought us to?”

“I never imagined this would happen. I was just reading a poem. This isn’t real!” Larry replied.

“I assure you this is real. Look at us. We are here at your amusement as if we had no other important matters to attend to. We cannot return to our own time unless you send us back.”

“But sir I don’t know how to send you back. I don’t even know who you are!”

“I’m Bob and this is Herbert. You called us here because you wanted to meet us. Now you’ve met us. I demand, sir, that you send us back!”

“Quite,” the one called Herbert said.

Larry stumbled backward into his easy chair as he realized who the men were and what he had done…

OOC: I have left this open for several reasons. Also here is a little background on this thread. 1. Any one can play Heinlein or Wells. 2. This story can go anywhere for the portal is now open and Heroes can be summoned by anyone. 3.Only the ones called back from time will know what is going on. 4. All recalled characters will speak English for ease of story telling. 5. This is open for improvement or suggestions. Now, go play!

 

[Ravenloft]

Larry stared at the two in amasment. "I can't believe this! Next thing you know William Shakespeare will fall through the ceiling!" He said sarcasticly.

****
Far back in time a middle aged man, half asleep at his writing table sat back for a moments repose from his diligent work. An instant later he sat at a musty old desk, a wild haired man looked up at him. "Okay... So some guy from the future that found one of my portal books wants to see you... I am supposed to send you there... Um... You won't be able to go back to your time unless he gives you express permision to do so... Is that clear?" the man said, pausing every few words so that what he said was made very clear. "Pardon me... But what would thine name be good sir?!" Shakespeare asked, quite in shock. "Its Cain, Cain, teh caretaker... Have a nice trip..." the wild haired Cain said as he turned to a large red lever on his desk. He pulled it toward himself and before Shakespeare could say another word the chair that he sat in fell away. The next thing he knew he sat on his ass in front of a young man, dressed rather oddly. Two men that dressed nearly as odd as the young man helped him to his feet. The older gentlman to his right suddenly snapped at the young one. "Now listen here! Stop that! And... And send us ALL back! I demand it!"

 

[Roland Gilliad]

ooc: heh, Cool Idea...I Like it...As soon as i figure out who i want to be, I'll join in *winx*

 

[Cryo]

A lone man floated, meditationd. Around him, in every direction as far as the eye could see was a yellow/tan swirl (darkened from normal for meditations sake). A ripple appeared to the man's left, spreading over a somewhat large area of the swirl. The man opened his eyes suddenly, his concentration broken.

someone is disterbing my boundries a descriptiveless voice said.

"Show me" said the man. A circle appeared in front of his eyes, showing modern earth, in a small house, where obvious anachronysms disterbed the watcher. It appears that someone has broken the time barrior, and summoned famous poets from different era's to his own time. This disterbance could develop into a paradox of serious preportions. Aside from that, he could also see the essance of obblivion, alerted to this dimention, creeping through and causing it's chaos. Time is short, so he would have to work quickly...

------------

The forest of sherwood was disterbed by a light, as Robin of locksley dissappeared. In the nega-time warp however, a portal of unknown proportions opened, swallowing a fast travelling Robin hood, and spitting out an exact duplicate. The robin hood clone (whome is so alike the real one that he shall be known as the real one) emerged into modern earth, in a steadilly crowding house. Looking around in mild confusion, he asked "what I say is going on here?"

OOC; the switch was quick and silent, so noone is aware that there was one. like they would notice it in the chaos anyway.

 

[Ambrosious]

In another place, a woman lay dying. She had a weathered look that one gets from working too long in the sun. As she floated between this world and the next, her mind drifted. She thought about her children and the man she had loved for 40 years. She thought about the people she had met and worked with and played with over the years. She also thought about regrets, as I'm sure we all do as our time draws near. She also thought about the times her husband had taken her to the cinema and how the life on the screen helped her forget her own dreary, work filled life.

"Oh to be one of the beautiful women on the screen," she thought.

Her husband she loved very much, but for one night to be held by one such as Carey Grant or Humphrey Bogart. She smiled as this "naughty" thought crossed her mind. She never shared her secret fantasy with anyone and was now taking it to her grave. She looked once more into the face of her husband who sat at her bedside holding her hand. Suddenly there appeared two men behind her husband. She could see the well worn face of Bogart and the handsome looks of Grant in his younger days. Neither man said anything to her as she slipped one final time into the next world. She died with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. At the exact moment she passed, both Bogart and Grant popped out of exsistance. Her husband collapsed on her now unbreathing form and sobbed out loud.

 

[Ambrosious]

OOC: Don't feel limited here. Any hero from the past is welcome to play, mythical or otherwise. It just so happens that some of my heros are writers.

IC: On a lonely hill above the Spanish town of San Marco, a priest lay prostrate. He was praying and had reached a state of extasy. He had been fasting for 4 days and he did not feel the hunger. It only enhanced his religious trance. Mumbling in prayer, he never noticed the figure pop into existance nearby. A robed man stood upon harsh leather sandals. A flowing mane of hair outlined a face that looked perpetually young. The sun nor age had weathered his face. He stood looking down at the prostrated priest and a smile played along his lips. He bent down and touched the priest's shoulder.

Arousing himself from his trance, the priest stood to see who had disturbed him with calm. Many times in the past he had been interupted by the city's poor, looking for a bite to eat or a place to stay. He was not concerned that he had been in trance for four days without achieving the peace he sought. It was a test that his god had given him. One day he would pass it. He looked upon the man's face and was instantly struck by the resemblance...

"Sir," said the priest, "do you know, you look just like..."

"Call me Jesu, my son. Come, we have work to do."