Thread: Alternate Timeline Crossover RP (EvelynWillows & Reality Escapee)

The world-hopping machine was a curious structure, that would have appeared almost like a temple to an uniformed observer. A massive metallic sphere studded with tubing ports and lights was buried deep below the building's foundation, powering the particle-shattering circuits that were necessary to open the gateway. Up from the underground generator, there rose a shining pillar covered with constantly fluctuating greek letters. Dozens of individuals huddled around the pillar in deep concentration, wired into the pillar by their brains- chiefly by their amygdalae and motor cortices. No keyboards were necessary. Some people were merely giving instructions to the computer, others were more fully merged with the machine as component parts. In particular, targeting the other worlds required individuals with psychic sensitivity no other tool would do. All individuals here were considered tools to some degree. The advancement of their civilization was always paramount. This was the Third Hellenistic Empire, the year 2353 According to the revised Persian calendar. The Julian calendar, had it existed, would have put the date at 1813 A.D. On the west, the Third Empire encompassed the whole of the Mediterranean, as well as the balkans and black sea coast. To the east, the empire encompassed India as well. Lucrative colonies and satrapy's also dotted the numerous coasts bordering the Indian Ocean. A man dressed in loosely fitting black and white synthetic fabrics observed the vehicle before him, trying to steady his breath. He had wavy Mediterranean hair, serious dark eyes, and an aquiline nose. He was broad at the shoulder's and slim at the waist, having been taught at a young age that fitness was a logical extension of mental discipline. The communicator chimed loudly in Aristides ear. Alright, we've achieved criticality. The gateway is opening. You should arrive in the center of North America, although this first test will be imprecise. Even minor rotational and orbital differences between our Earth and this world's Earth will have compounded over the centuries since our last snapshot, so your landing site may not be quite where we think it is in space. Remember, Aristides, you're just a scout. Your job is to gather information. Blend in if possible. Assess technological advancement, military readiness, and level of cultural sophistication. The military supervisor spent several more minutes giving orders to him. Aristides nodded without expression, concealing his suspicions. There were those who advocated conquest, but to his knowledge, there were still no official orders that would constitute an act of war. Aristides himself was conflicted. Many states in the empire had benefited from their conquest, at least from his Neo-Hellenistic notions of progress. His motivations were two-fold. Exploration satisfied his natural curiosity, an adventurous side that his culture had never managed to curb. On the other hand though, he was fiercely loyal to his nation, and saw his mission as his way of fulfilling his sworn duty to contribute to the advancement of his society. With a deep breath, Aristides flicked the ignition switch on his craft's dashboard. There was a flash of light, and his mind was instantly assaulted with images. It was one of the side effects of the transport. They had used mediums to help open the gate, so anyone with low level psychic sensitivity such as himself was bound to pick up signals from the other world. He felt words flowing into him, words from many languages. The mediums had worked some of each language out, but he had to fill in the gaps. He had been selected in part for his skills in linguistics. It wasn't easy, but his knowledge of languages and his own psychic sensitivity allowed him to obtain some knowledge of English, as well as some other languages. English was a hybrid tongue, he quickly saw. Part Italic, part Germanic. When he came through the other side, he was many hundreds of thousands of miles from Earth The other Earth, but he checked his instruments to see if his trajectory was right. He saw himself approaching the Earth, and frowned. He saw South America in his path, not North America. That in itself would not be so bad, except that he could see the continent slowly spinning away to the east as the Earth turned, giving way to ocean. The miscalculation became more apparent as he plunged through the atmosphere. When he thundered into the ocean, he closed his eyes and tried to abolish all fear. His hands trembled as he searched for an improvised flotation device, but it was obvious that nothing in his vessel was simultaneously less dense than water, and capable of displacing a volume of water greater than his weight. He had always been taught that fear was a lesser emotion during his philosophy instruction, but he was feeling damnably un-philosophical right now. He swore, cursing the Moirae. Though hardly anyone believed in the fates anymore, plenty still used their names in swear words. He popped the hatch, climbing to the surface so that he could at least look around, and try treading water as far as he might. He was a sorry sight, clinging to the curved, slippery surface of the sinking vessel, drenched and shivering, his stoic facade barely holding up. The flesh of the body is only a prison for the intellect. He told himself, remembering the Pythagorean promise that death was not final. I should not fear to leave it behind. Desperately, he unsheathed his firearm and sent several incendiary pellets streaking into the heavens, where they burst silently with brilliant white light. Unfortunately, it was not quite night, but it had grown dim enough for the light to stand out. Help! He cried. Pamoch! Ayuda! Bahng! Sa'aduni! He added frantically, not knowing which language to speak in such a remote region.