- - - Twisted Memories

[HELEN MAGNUS]

After her conversation with the Doctor, she felt rather content. Actually, she felt a little more at ease. From his reaction to the whole thing, she and him may not be the only stranded personnel on Terra. Where it was a good thing or not, she was no entirely sure. Whatever great powers sent them here, she was yet to find out. It was almost kidnapping. Taking people and dumping them in an unknown city to fend for themselves. Really, it was daunting. And now after the conversation with the Time Lord, they may not even be on Earth. Now that was a first for her.

The first thing she thought of, was to arm herself. Usually she'd have a standard pistol on her, but considering not long ago she was sitting in her office, there was no need. Who ever put her there must have done so for a reason. And she had encountered no known Abnormal capable of doing so. Big Bertha was out of the question. A giant underwater spider capable of shifting the plates under the Earth's crust? Even this situation made her think twice about it. It seemed puny compared with what she may deal with here on Terra. Either way, she had to prepare herself.

About twenty minutes after she left the Doctor, she found herself wandering down another street, this time, full of more shops. She scanned each of them, for any sign of a weapons shop. There just had to be one somewhere. Unless the being behind it was smart enough not to put one here. But really, who knew how their mind worked?

Helen did eventually find a weapons shop, named the Armory. It was exactly the kind of shop she was looking for. Seeing no-one in sight, she peered around to see if anyone was watching. Taking it as her cue, she walked casually inside. It was empty. Not weapons-empty, but personnel-empty. There was no-one in sight, and she'd think that everyone would flock here? She was very wrong. She walked up to the counter, and saw a range of small guns under the glass. She looked around again for any sign of the shopkeeper. Frowning, she decided to tap on the glass to get someone's attention. Maybe they were out the back? She tapped for a further few minutes, and sighing, she stopped when no-one answered her.

She paced the room a bit, wandering if she should wait. But she grew tired of waiting. The sooner she bared a weapon, the better. This place seemed to get eerier by the minute. She noticed a replica of a gun on the top of the counter, and grabbed it. Holding the butt of the gun down, she smashed in into the glass, where it shattered instantly. Glass sprayed everywhere, and she did get a few cuts on her hand. Flinging the fake gun aside, she reached in for the real ones in the cabinet. The sound was loud, and it was bound to be heard among the quite street at least a block down. The last thing she needed was to draw attention her herself.

[DEAN WINCHESTER]

Naked. That's how he felt without his Impala. He'd come to the conclusion, after his brief encounter with the first two people he'd met in this place, that there actually were no cars in this godforsaken town. Not only that, but he'd done some snooping around at the Tailor's -who even had a tailor anymore?- and at the apartments and a few other areas and it seemed there was legitimately no way out of this place. He was getting a very "Deliverance" vibe from this town, and he definitely needed to get the hell out of here before he found a kid with a banjo. Whoever or whatever had managed to pull this off had sealed them all in. What was even more unsettling was that he could find no trace of spells, no markings, no trail of blood that would imply magic had been at work in all this. He couldn't even find sulfur residue. He'd never dealt with anything quite like this before and he didn't have his dad's journal to look for information or give him any clues as to what he was looking for. For lack of a better phrase, this sucked. . . royally.

The only good thing about this whole situation was that he'd been able to get a ton of weapons from that armory place he'd first run into. He had all of his purchases, if they could even be called that when you didn't have to pay for them, in a duffel bag slung over his right shoulder as he walked along the street. He was on his way to check out the local bar. Two. There were two good things about this situation: weapons and a bar. Bars he could handle. He was in his element there: pretty girls, drunk idiots who could be scammed out of their money, and more importantly -well maybe equally importantly- people who were more likely to tell him about this place and anything else they might know. If Sam were here he would be amazed at how long he'd managed to stay away from the bar until now: a whole night.

He spared a glance at the armory as he passed by it for the second time, stopping to take it in. This was where he had appeared, and yet there were no markings around it; nothing. The whole thing was driving him nuts. His thoughts were momentarily distracted by the sound of glass shattering coming from inside the building. His brows furrowed slightly as he reached inside his bag for one of the sawed off shot guns and two shells full of rock salt. He pressed his back against the outside of the building, getting closer to the door as he loaded the gun. Everything was free in this place, so the only logical conclusion of what that sound would be was someone fighting inside.

He took a deep breath, nodded to himself and kicked open the door, shotgun at the ready for whoever or whatever was waiting inside. "All right you demon ass-- . . .holes" His shout was short lived as he realized no one was actually fighting inside. There was just a woman standing in front of a gun display with glass on the ground around it. She seemed to have broken into the display case which would explain the sound he'd heard outside. Apparently being stuck in 'Terra' had gotten him all paranoid. He tilted his head slightly as he straightened up his posture and lowered the gun. "So. . .having some trouble?" he asked to save face.

[HELEN MAGNUS]

Helen needed to prepare herself for any other encounter. Surely, the Doctor wasn't the only other being stuck in Terra. No, he had told her of others. But what she wasn't sure of, if they were all here for the same reasons. Given that so far, each person was taken from their lives - their world - and brought here for some cosmic reason. But were all those stuck here, really here for the right cause? So far, the Doctor seemed like an ally. Only time would tell if enemies lurked here as well.

With a serious expression on her face, and her brow crinkled deeper in thought, as she fished out a couple of mags and inserted them into her new weapons. She grabbed the spare ones, and hooked it securely onto her belt. She needed to be ready, no matter what. Just as she picked up both pistols, she heard a noise. The obscure swearing of a male. Quickly, she turned her stance with both pistols locked firmly onto the target. A man, possibly in his thirties, grasping his own weapon. Judging by the look on his face, it seemed even he was getting used to the life on Terra. Confused. Just like the rest of them.

Giving a few seconds paused, with guns raised, she wairting until he lowered his weapon, until she did the same as well. Her eyes darted from both his weapon, to his face. She tilted her head, "Another lost soul?" Her face was serious, but since she gave no real reply, she flicked her pistols on safety lock, and hooked them onto a holster strap found on a nearby shelf, and strapped it around her waist, indicating she did not need help.

"Oh, and please watch your language," Her old English accent shone through, with a hint of modern British. During her long life, she has become accustomed to modern accents and their development over the years. She had to blend in, somehow. Her tone was, somewhat calm. The last thing she needed was to make enemies here in unknown territory.