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Dr Archeville

[Time Warp] Emerald Isle Memories (Gabriel)

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April 15, 2011

Gabriel decided that he really, really hated time travel. Not in the "all the paradoxes make my head hurt!" way that most physicists (and science fiction fans) mean. No, his was the "why did a saber-toothed tiger appear right outside my classrom" kind of hate. Thankfully, the theater had several exits, and he'd made sure to get his students out quickly. That he took the time to knock the beast out afterwards was as much an act of frustration as it was one to protect the people on campus. He'd jogged after his class long enough to make sure they were getting to safety, then slipped away to a deserted bathroom to change.

Of course, a roving super-predator was the least of his troubles. First he'd run into a gang of Vikings. Or Vikers.Or whatever they'd called themselves. He'd spent about ten minutes getting them sorted out; each one wasn't too hard to put down, but there were about two dozen of them. Add in the fact that they all had rather sharp weapons, and he'd tried hard to not get hurt (he'd just cleaned this costume from the last set of bloodstains!). Thankfully, he'd only taken a few bruises for his troubles, while the barbarians were busy being unconscious.

But his current foes were decidedly more frustrating. They seemed to be from, of all things, the future. At least, the hover-bikes and cheap-looking laser pistols suggested that.

'Would be just my luck I'd be facing a psycho gang from the future.'

Not just any gang, it seemed. These guys dressed like clowns, of all things. Their nominal leader was wearing a dirty purple suit and trying to knife him. They were all amateurs compared to some of the foes he'd faced.

"You guys aren't that scary; you sure you're a real gang?"

"Shut up! We're feared by plenty of people! Even that freaking Midnight-"

"Probably walks all over you. I've been going easy on you, son."

"GRA-umph!"

The leader's charge was cut off when sonic energy knocked him into a nearby brick wall. Suddenly, Gabriel was hovering in the air above all of the remaining gangsters. He grinned and set off an incredibly loud sound in their midst.

"You all should have just sat back and waited this storm out; it would have saved you some bruises."

With most of the gang clutching their ears in pain, Gabriel reared back and let loose a bone-shaking bellow, knocking them all flat to the ground, and quickly unconscious. He rubbed his throat afterwards with a light grimace.

"That still stings. Now, where should I-"

His next words were cut off as he was suddenly and violently pulled through a portal that appeared perhaps a foot behind him. It seemed to be a particularly vicious one, tossing him too and fro in the maddening color swirl of its length.

The last thing Gabriel saw before unconsciousness took him was the ground...about 3 feet in front of his face, and closing fast.

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

“-ing me! Crap my mask!”

Gabriel's mask and hood were pulled up near-instantly as he assessed the situation. He was back in Freedom City; there were still crazy time portals all over the place. He cast his gaze about, and it settled on...

“You're kidding. Russians on robot bears? Who comes up with that kind of thing? Well, back to the grindstone.”

The air was soon filled with the sounds of exploding robots, hollering Russians, and high-powered sonic blasts. Eventually, all the bears had been taken out, the Russian (maybe?) raiders were unconscious, their weapons were scrap, and Gabriel was dusting his hands. Just then, the whole pile was sucked into a portal that appeared for a moment, before vanishing. Listening for a moment and searching the skies, it appeared the portals were gone all over the city.

“It's about time. I'm totally wiped out.”

With that, Gabriel flew home to eat a large supper and fall promptly to sleep.

That night, Carson Keefe had dreams filled with laughter, green fields, and all the other things that reminded him of a time that wasn't his that he'll never see again. He sheds a single tear, but the next day, the dreams are fainter. Within a week, he barely remembers those couple of days in the past, and it makes him mourn all the more.

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