bakerstreet | the ACCIDENTAL EXTRADIMENSIONAL TOURIST meme

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the ACCIDENTAL EXTRADIMENSIONAL TOURIST meme

Have you ever wanted to travel to another planet? Another REALITY? Even if this is something that has never crossed your mind, It's about to happen. For reals. A giant wormhole has opened up beneath you and dropped you elsewhere. You have no choice in what world you're heading to, or even where you'll be landing. Luckily (or unluckily) you'll be dropped near to a resident of the world who will have no choice but to play your tour guide and help you get to know your new home.

How it works

1. Post with your character. In the body include a little bit about where your character is, or what they are currently doing. You can write as little, or as much as you want! Just a simple sentence saying something like [John Doe is sitting in his office at the paper company goofing off and playing call of duty while his boss isn't looking.] is fine, or you could go into more detail and write a paragraph or two describing a key place in your world's canon to really set the scene for incoming tourists. Try not leave your initial comment blank. This meme will probably work best if you set up a scene, no matter how short.

2. Find someone else who's world you are invading and post dropping in on them. Maybe you just opened a door and found yourself there, maybe you fell into a worm hole. Either way you are not where you were a moment ago. optional: The wormhole might have handily provided you with the means to blend in to your new environment. If you find yourself hopping out into a school, you might be wearing an appropriate uniform, if you happen to fall out into a swords and sorcery type world you might find yourself sporting plate armor or wizard robes, and if you find yourself on an alien planet... well you might look just like the aliens who live there.

3. Remember that with this sort of meme it's probably best to tag outside of canonmates. But, either way, have fun and try not to kill the tourists!

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Depending on who you are there might not be THAT big a change. This world is modern, sometime in the 20-teens. This is some derelict old parking lot, the pavement cracked, bits of trash blowing around here and there. On one end a ramshackle stage has been erected out of whatever junk whoever built it could find.

There are a couple handmade posters taped to the chain link fence to one side. A crudely drawn skull and a proclamation of a pop up concert with a date and time.

There's some movement on the rickety stage. It's a kid hauling an absolutely ancient amp up. Like it looks questionable whether or not it'd even WORK.

"Oh hey!" he turns, and as he does it's clearly evident that there are some notable... chunks missing from his face, "Concert's not starting for a few hours."

Here I go again. Another PINpoint glitch. At least nobody's trying to go at Ben with a sword this time.

Ben's previous experiences with the undead haven't been good, but this person isn't trying to rush him with a sharp object so he's going to play nice this time. He's not the kind of person who goes to concerts, but as the Earth saying goes when in Rome do as the Romans do. So he's decided he'll attend this one.

It looks like the kid's trying to move some kind of machine. It would be easy enough to use the Force and provide a little assistance.

"If you need things moved," he says, casually, "I can help you if you like. That thing looks heavy, but I've lifted heavier." He's sure he sticks out with his black clothes - nothing too flashy, and not as heavy as his old robes, though. "My name's Ben."

"Yeah?...Could it be?" his eyes light up so much it's hard to believe they're you know, dead eyes, "My very first ROADIE!"

He grins and in his glee fails to notice an errant cord and trips. Who put that there?! What kind of IDIOT just leaves that kind of thing all out in the middle of a stage where just anyone could trip over it? Spoilers: It was Sahu.

He stumbles, looses his grip on the amp, and it slams down on the stage. Or rather through it. It thunks alarmingly on the ground below.

Sahu just... stares at the hole in his stage.

"Well fuck."

This person's confusing, and more than a little enthusiastic.

"A roadie? What do you...?" Ben's still picking up on Earth culture, but before he can ask further questions the amp falls through the stage. He hears it land on the ground. That doesn't sound good.

Well, it looks like he still isn't very good at helping. He looks into the hole, but it's too dark to get a good look at the amp or the kind of shape it's in. After a fall like that it'll need some repairs done.

"I can get it back," he tells Sahu. "We might need to fix it, though. Do you have any tools?"

"Tools? Eh, I mean this isn't exactly a professional affair here," he ponders, squatting down to look into the abyss. Hopefully it's not TOO broke. He's got an old hammer and a kinda rusty ax he and his buddies used to make this monstrosity but even he's not dumb enough to think those are the kinda tools you need to fix electronics.

"Oh! Got one of these," he fishes around in his jacket pockets and produces an old worn out but still at least functional looking multitool, "This any good?"

Ben looks over the multitool, then smiles. "Yes. Not the same kind of tools I'm used to, but it'll do. Don't let me get ahead of myself, though. We've got to fix this before I tell you more about my world. Now we've got a way to fix it, let me show you something in return for your invitation."

He concentrates, focusing on the amp's location underneath the stage. The broken amp rises from the abyss, Ben cautiously guiding it over to the floor and setting it down. It doesn't take too much out of him, but he wanted to make sure it didn't fall again.

Sahu just... he stares at Ben, slack jawed for a moment. Whatever help he was expecting this certanily wasn't it.

"Holy shit!" he finally declares anticlimactically. A moment later when he's ready to be more coherent he continues, "I always knew all goths were secretly witches! Skull totally owes me twenty bucks now..."

He trails off as he registers the thing Ben The Witch has actually said. Another world?!

"Gothic Alien Witch..." he sounds awed, "You're not gonna like turn me into a cow and abduct me, are you? I don't wanna be probed."

Edited 2020-06-25 00:22 (UTC)

It's not the first time Ben's showed off a little in front of people unfamiliar with the Force, and he honestly enjoys it every time. It never gets old.

Gothic Alien Witch. That actually gets a smile out of Ben. He's been called a lot of things in his life, but never a Gothic Alien Witch. He'll have to remember this one.

He has so many questions. Who is Skull? Why would meeting a "gothic alien witch" be some kind of strange bet?

"No, I won't turn you into a cow. And I won't probe you, either." Whatever that means. And I'm not sure I want to know, either. Ben wants to focus on fixing the machine, kneeling to examine it. He was infamous for breaking things, but he can fix them reasonably well, too. "It's damaged, but I don't think it's unfixable."

You find yourself in an ancient stone hall full of enormous statues that depict people that seem to be fleeing. It's very cold, and very empty. Luckily you've found yourself in cloak and fur. The only sound here is the howl os the winds outside and the crackle of the magically lit torches.

The ground is mostly covered in dust, though there are disturbances here and there. Some of them lead to a rather prominent carving in the wall. While carved in runes you can somehow read it anyway.

We forsee Midgard's fate - overrun, a second Hel. Neither Odin nor his dead may reach Jotunheim. The ways must be shut. The serpent and the guardian remained. They alone shall keep our hope. When doom befalls the indestructible, only then shall the guardian return.

Until then we await a better world - one without fear, without greed, without war. We wait for deliverance, and justice. We wait for a champion. We will wait for word that gods grow good.

Besides that the halls are covered in carvings. Images and words, events from the past and future. There's one very odd one. An image carved onto a mostly crumbled wall. It looks an awful lot like you.

There's a new noise. A low growl. Three enormous spectral wolves crackling with magical energy have stalked up behind you.

"How did you get here?" a voice asks, a young voice, probably hidden behind one of the many statues. Though the echoing makes it hard to tell precisely where.

As far as Atreus knows, there's only one way into Jotunheim, and he's the only one who knows the Black Rune to get here. And his father by default, obviously.

It takes a lot to scare Ben Solo, relatively speaking, but seeing the image on the wall does it. He can't tell exactly whether it's him, but it's close enough to be unsettling. It makes him wonder if his visiting this place has already caused history to change. The hall feels dead, and he reads the prophecy with some curiosity. He doesn't understand it, though he remembers an enormous snake being mentioned before.

But the runes are right, there'll be a war. If there's going to be a war, well, he's promised one of the other Lokis he's met that he'll protect Atreus. Atreus has his father to look after him, but, well, when you're fighting gods you'll need all the help you can get. He knows which side to pick. He's spent time as an oppressor, and it's something he works to atone for. But gods are a harder prospect than draugrs or cannibals.

He is kneeling to examine the strange carving when his ears catch the growling of wolves, and is about to draw his lightsaber in self-defense when he hears a familiar voice.

"It's all right, Atreus, it's just me - I don't know how I got here, either. Must've stumbled through the wrong portal." Ben stands to his full height. "Those wolves of yours are a good trick - gave me a fright. What is this place?"

"Ben?" blinking in surprise he climbs down from his hiding spot clinging to the back of a statue and peers around the leg to confirm. He'd been able to sense the wolves have found someone, just not who. It's a relief. If the Aesir had found an alternate path into realm of the Giants... well he didn't want to think of them desecrating this place.

He signals to the wolves and they leave, paws padding softly on the dusty floors, continuing their patrol since it seemed like their summoner didn't think this a threat. Atreus was here alone, the dwarf brothers were set up right outside the gateway in Midgard and there was nothing in the place that could be a threat. With this in mind his father had, albeit begrudgingly, allowed him to come here unattended to study the carvings. There are secrets here, he just knows it. And he could use all the help he can get.

"They probably would have given you a good bite on top of that fright if I wasn't so close by," and he's heard that a bite from a spirit isn't exactly the most pleasant experience. Some say it feels as if your soul is screaming. He's... gonna keep that bit to himself though, "This is Jotunheim, the realm of the Giants."

"That's some strong magic you have." Ben still considers the Force distinct from the other kinds of magic he's encountered, but he can understand why people unfamiliar with his home universe and its history would see it as magic, and his mind has been broadened with experience. The creatures Atreus summons and commands are something he's never seen. He's glad that the wolves accept him as someone who's not a threat and are under a friend's command. He doesn't want to fight a spirit wolf pack.

The anti-violence field's protection doesn't exist here. Midgard is inhabited by strange, terrible creatures he's only gotten a glimpse of. There are far worse things than draugrs, like whatever monsters drove away or wiped out the Giants who once lived here. They're gone, only their art left. He brushes a hand over the strange carving, clearing away dust - and confirming his suspicions.

"Jotunheim. It looks abandoned, and I can't imagine it was under good circumstances. I can feel the death in this place." Ben gestures to the carvings, inviting Atreus to join him. "I was just looking at this. You might want to see. I thought one of these carved figures looked a little like me, but you're the expert."

"Thanks! They're just runic summons though, fairly low level stuff," he does smile a little though. He's fairly proud of himself for mastering spirit summoning so quickly, especially with how young he is. When he first started he could only call forth one, and only for a few moments.

"The people that came here were the only survivors that escaped Thor... But Jotunheim isn't exactly a very fertile realm and with the path to Midgard and trade there closed..." he trails off. Ben can figure out the pieces. A broken downtrodden people, supplies very short in order... There probably aren't many survivors left, if any.

He shakes his head, death indeed. He can hear their whispers here too.

"Let's see your figure though," He crouches down to examine it, "It does look like you. Probably is to be honest. The giants that lived here had the gift of Prophecy. That's what made Odin so jealous of them. Everything in this hall, and others like it, are all prophecy, some have already happened some are still far far into the future."

He carefully brushes dirt and dust off the relief, "Hundreds of years ago a giant probably saw you appear here. I think a stranger popping in from nowhere would interest them enough to record it," he traces some runes below the figure that the dirt has crumbled off of, "Your name's not here but it refers to you as the son of þúsund and Himinioðurr. The 'Thousand' and the 'Sky'."

"So I'm guessing this Odin is one of the people you and your father fight. Thor and Odin. So they were responsible for the death here." Ben gestures to the deserted hall. "I thought something happened here. I could sense it. While I can't see the future, I can pick up things other people don't." He's not sure he would be in any kind of position to call them out, but at least he's decided to try and change. He doesn't want to be that kind of person anymore.

From the sound of it the Giants who lived in this hall were wiped out. "Someone who can see the future is likely to attract attention. For better...and for worse." This is coming from somebody who doesn't usually put stock in prophecies or fate. Even if he doesn't, other people do. And he just might have been convinced about these particular prophets by what he found.

It's honestly a little spooky. And it makes Ben feel a little like an alien - he frankly is an alien here, armed with tools and abilities this world hasn't seen before. That's an advantage.

"Well, I suppose I'm part of this world, too, now. I don't know what role I'm supposed to play. But if you ever need help, I promised a mutual friend I'd watch your back if you ever need me. A person named Loki, the same one who gave me the wolf flask you've seen." Ben doesn't know whether he's up for anything on the level of Odin, but a promise is a promise.

He looks over the carvings, curious. "Are there any of these Giants left, or did Thor and Odin wipe them all out?"

"We haven't fought them yet... but it's immanent at this point. Father was forced to kill Baldur, Thor's brother and Odin's youngest son..." he frowns and stand back up, dusting off his knees. There were other reasons too of course. There's also the matter of that brief siting of the god of light at the Nexus... and if Ben could accidentally find his way here then who's to say Baldur wouldn't figure it out too. Troubling. Very troubling.

"Loki huh? He's kind of weird... I don't know how I feel about him being the 'God of Mischief' to be perfectly honest. But, I'd be honored to have your help though. After everything we've done together you're... well I feel like you're the brother I've never had," he smiles, honestly. He's only knows bits and pieces of the older man's past, and he knows is dark... but the Ben he knows is someone striving to be the kind of person who does right, who delivers justice. After his father there's no one he'd rather fight beside.

"There might be a few more in hiding but there are only a handfu; I know of. The great serpent Jormungandr, and the two wolf-giants that chase the sun and moon. Thor himself is half giant, and..." he pauses momentarily, considering his next words carefully. Finally he shrugs and continues, "And me, I'm half as well."

"There's more than one Loki in the Nexus. I've met two. It's not the one who ran the knife-throwing contest, it's the other one." Ben prefers that Loki, between the two - he seems more experienced. On the other hand, Ben knows who Baldur is from their brief encounter in the Nexus, and does not want to bump into him again. Baldur felt angry, a mixture of power, anger, and instability that felt all too familiar. "It's dangerous business, fighting gods. But those ones sound like they need to be dealt with."

Ben has encountered or heard about a fair few people in the Nexus who remind him of who he doesn't want to be again, whether through rage or barely restrained violence. He can understand that anger better than most, but also understands that sometimes people won't listen and have to be stopped. That doesn't mean he'd enjoy it. It sounds like his instincts surrounding the big man were correct.

"It's good that there's some left. You mentioned that Jormungandr - the giant snake - is one of your friends. I...wouldn't mind meeting him sometime." Ben's not especially intimidated by the idea of talking to a massive snake, especially one who's a friend of a friend. "You're half giant? I've never met a giant before from any world - but I suppose I'm your first Force-user."

You find yourself on the shores of a distant planet. The sea and beach resemble an ordinary beach, but there are three bright suns in the sky and the creatures are distinctly alien. There's the skeleton of a fish that's...peculiar. But that isn't the only strange sight on this world. One finds you soon enough.

There's a thump as something heavy approaches, fast and agile despite a massive size and build.

A vast birdlike creature wearing a feathered cap looks down on you, red eyes sharp. She wears a heavy red coat, breeches, and gold glints off her earrings. Her hand is on a heavy cutlass. She doesn't attack, though, instead questioning you, tail twining as she watches closely.

"You took me by surprise. Who may you be? And how did you wash up on the Sifan shores?"

Edited 2020-06-24 04:00 (UTC)

The she-elf looks like she's seen better days; beyond the usual mess of being washed up (soaking wet, seaweed in her hair, pale with cold and exhaustion), she's wearing battle attire that's bloody and seems scorched or blasted in some way. Her arms are so exhausted from her desperate swim for the shore that they ache just moving a hand to the hilt of the long knife strapped to her thigh. It's almost a bluff: she doubts she has the strength for either spells nor sword play.

She wants to answer the creature but at first all that comes out is dry croak. She had managed to crawl above the water line-- though the tide is currently lapping at her heels-- but no further. At least the stranger had come upon her after she had finished coughing up what felt like half the sea water in all the known oceans, so at least some shred of her dignity might remain. Finally, she croaks out, lips cracked with salt:

"F-fucking...portal." She rolls her green eyes up to the three suns that have been burning her fair skin since she crawled up onto the sand. "Terrible mistake." She had thought it had simply been the portal dumping her into the sea but it had become extremely apparent that she wasn't anywhere she was supposed to be at all. She looks up at the stranger. Perhaps I am dead, she thinks. And this strange creature some psychopomp to lead me off to whatever hell awaits me.

"My name is Crow." She says, not lifting her head from the sand. It is not her true name, but it is never wise to give strange creatures that kind of knowledge.

skekSa notes that the stranger, like her, carries a weapon. Someone used to fighting. The Mariner always travels armed, with one or two of her trademark thunder-eggs as well as a cutlass. Thra has dangers that could even threaten a Skeksis. For all they're convinced of their immortality, a fair few of them know they aren't invulnerable.

"Crow. Hm. You aren't from this planet, are you? The Three Brothers have burned your skin." skekSa kneels to get a closer look at Crow. She's never seen this kind of person before - the closes "You said you came here through a portal, so you washed up here by mistake. If you wish, I can escort you to my Sifa and we'll get you back on your feet again. You look a sight. Some food and fresh water might help you feel a bit better. We have healing plants, if you need those."

Also, if she can, she wants to learn more about Crow and where she came from. Her species is alien to Thra. The Mariner is always curious and it's not often that she encounters a being whose origins, like hers, are from offworld. Skeksis and their urRu counterparts are both aliens. She's intrigued by the mention of a portal that seemingly dropped Crow from her native world and onto Thra, none too comfortably from the looks of it.

"I should introduce myself, lass." She offers a clawed hand, both in greeting and to help get Crow to her feet if she accepts. "I am skekSa the Mariner, but you may call me Captain skekSa. You are on the planet of Thra, in the territory of the Sifan gelflings."

Wary as a cat, Eligre moves her hand from her knife to skekSa's hand, grasping it tightly to pull herself to her feet. No matter what intentions the creature has, she cannot simply remain collapsed in the sand at its feet.

She's about as tall as skekSa, thin and brittle as a reed and dressed for for war in light leather armor that is clearly not meant for up-close combat. Indeed, even in ranged combat it seems to have failed her, the hollow where she had been laying in the sand stained the color of dark red wine. The movement to rise causes pain to lance through her body and she finds a wound just beneath her arm. Not mortal, but a near miss. Some kind of missile, which clearly she had torn from her flesh in a fit of rage. That had been the impetus of her flight, a terrible wound that had emphasized a turn in the tide. They had been losing and she refused to die like all those she felt had failed her with their incompetence; her loyalty is a fragile one. But there had been some kind of terrible explosion at the moment of her casting, one of a magical nature: probably her counterpart across the field. It must have interfered with her spell, thrown her somewhere unimaginably foreign. A different planet entirely...

"I do not think I am in a position to refuse your hospitality, Captain." She says, with a sardonic little laugh. "Lead on."

The Skeksis pulls Crow to her feet. All members of her kind are strong, even the most withered, but she is among the strongest of them all.

skekSa has no true loyalty to the Skeksis who rule at the Castle of the Crystal, deeper inland. While she deals with them when she must, she takes no particular enjoyment in it. They're a wasteful, wanton lot, thinking only of immortality, petty infighting, and feasting. There are a few she respects or at least finds useful - skekTek's intelligence and skekZok's knowledge of court rules. The Ritual-Master always knows which way the winds are blowing at court - if only because he moves them himself.

"Very well. I can provide you with some healing salves for that wound of yours." The Mariner notices the blood. "Come with me." She walks across the sand. "I'll escort you to the nearest village. Is there any way you can get back to your home?"

"Theoretically." The she-elf says, falling into step with The Mariner, brow furrowed. "Theoretically I could just open a new portal, visualize a familiar place in my home world and that would be that." She growls at a fresh stab of pain. "I'm worried I won't be up to the task just now, but if you guide me to a place of safe rest and fresh water, I can at least try." She looks back at the ocean. "I take it that it's not common for people to pop in and out like this?"

skekSa shakes her feathered head. "No. I figured your people are not native to Thra. This planet hasn't had visitors from offworld in a thousand trine. I assume there are no gelflings in your world, or Skeksis." She can see the Sifan fishing village in the distance. "We'll get you some water at the village and see about getting you home, Crow. The Sifa are a welcoming clan, so once I explain things at the village they'll be willing to help."

Edited 2020-06-24 19:45 (UTC)

"I do not recognize those terms, and I have not seen anyone like you, no." She agrees. She guesses by the word that Skeksis refers to the Mariner's own people. She supposes she will meet these gelflings soon enough.

The elf does her best to move entirely under her own power, unable to bear further affront to her dignity than what she had already suffered in such an incalculable error in her casting, as well as having been found looking like a drowned cat thrown up upon the shore. But she is very grateful to see the village.

"I don't think I had quiet entertained the concept of 'offworld'." She admits. "Other planes, yes, but not whole other worlds. Lesson learned." She laughs and then coughs, tasting salt. Ugh...

"There are sixteen of us Skeksis, so we are not a common people. You would do best to avoid the others. They aren't the easiest to get along with, and the Skeksis Emperor, well, it's best to stay out of his way."

A few members of the Sifa clan are home from voyages, eyeing skekSa and the newcomer as they come out. They're small, elflike creatures, smaller than both Crow and skekSa, with pointy ears, four-fingered hands, and dark brown robes.

The Mariner leads Crow into the village. "Now, I'll have a talk with the Sifa here and let them know you're with me. Are there any other materials you need? Those wounds aren't anything a healing salve and bandaging won't clean up, and we'll provide you with fresh water."

Oh thank goodness, a stone. She's just going to sit here until invited somewhere else.

"Water is all I can think about at the moment." She confesses. "Water and medical supplies will suit me fine. Thank you, Captain." She eyes the unfamiliar gelflings. They remind her of fairies, almost, but less menacing. She smiles thinly, hoping to show she's not a threat, keeping her hand well away from her knife. It's better served bracing her wounded side anyway. She sits to await further instruction and turns over the things she's learned so far from skekSa. So her people rule this place, interesting and with such low numbers it seems likely that firstly, they must be on the brink of extinction and secondly, they are probably all related, which makes skekSa's warning very interesting.

"Very well. I'll return with the supplies we need, then we can see about getting you back where you came from. When you feel ready for that, of course." skekSa bows slightly and departs to talk with the group of gelflings.

When the Captain returns, she's carrying a canteen of water, offering it to Crow. One of the Sifa leaves a pouch of herbs, healing plants that are known to treat bleeding. "For you," the elflike creature explains. "Rub the leaves on the injury and it'll help. There are bandages, too, if you need them." They're clearly curious about her - it's not often they see visitors from such distant shores - but they keep a polite distance from the stranger..

Eligre takes the canteen gratefully and does her best to swallow the contents with some measure of restraint. The water is cool and sweet and pleasant, she imagines the places it runs from must be green and unspoiled.

"Thank you." She says, when she has to force herself to stop. "It is very kind of you to help a stranger. Both you," She says to the gelfling. "And you, Captain." She glances at skekSa with something like a grateful smile, even if it has a hard edge to it. But everything she does seems to have an edge to it, it is simply in her nature. "I will do my best to be gone as soon as my body allows it."

There are places in Thra that haven't been touched by the Darkening at this point, since it is still in its early stages. The water and food that comes from those places are still fresh and clean.

"Strangers are rare, and it is Sifan custom to be welcoming to strangers on our shores," says skekSa. "It's a good thing you washed up on our territory. There are places in Thra that are less welcoming, and this place isn't free of predators." She's thinking of wild animals, and her own fellow Skeksis - skekMal the Hunter in particular.

She'd like to think that she would have managed it, but truth be told she's terribly indebted to skekSa for her kindness. To be lost in a foreign land would be a death sentence even if she were she not weak and wounded.

"I owe you my life, Captain." She says, taking another sip of water. "Is there somewhere I can tend to my wounds? I shouldn't like to just strip down to my smalls in front of strangers without knowing the local customs." She jokes.

"Sorry, cosplayer, but I have no bloody idea," the young man says.

Jurek Kiler looks around, masking his freakout with his curiosity, or the other way 'round, God only knows, or king Chrobry, fuck.

Seriously, though, where the fuck is he?? Right now?? Geez louise. From one to another... he's a magnet for trouble, officially, huh? Huh? Huh?

That was a rhetorical question.

Edited 2020-06-25 06:52 (UTC)

A: not accidental- visiting

It starts as a black horizontal line in the air, like a slice in space. But the line grows into a circle, filled with wavering colours and pulsing power with only a second vertical column of black down the centre still and colourless, giving it the look of a great serpent's eye. The slitted pupil at first seems to widen, but that's merely an optical illusion. It's growing closer, racing through he uncountable space between worlds, an extending tunnel which converts concepts into distance. The sound that accompanies it is words echoing in reverse, the reverb quiet and growing louder. Unclear words, until the speaker catches up to the sound.

"I've made it!" He shouts as he's ejected from the tunnel of dimensions with some force. He handles it gracefully, grasping his blue cloak in one hand, the other bracing himself as he lands in an agile crouch. He's disorientated however, having to shake his head and rapidly blink his eye. "But to where? And what lies in store for me now that I've arrived?"

This sort of thing happens all the time.

B: not accidental- inviting

Devoted as he is to the cosmic order as Sam is, there are always battles to be fought and tasks to be completed. Including some which require assistance. In this case the almighty Oshtur has given him a responsibility which came with a recommendation. Someone else, from another universe entirely.

That was why a stranger in another dimension heard his voice in their mind, as he contacted them through the Orb of Eternal Sight. Y's was physically inside of his sanctum, a hand on the crystal and all his concentration focused on the target.

Stranger! I am Y the Mystic! I call upon you to assist me in fighting for order and justice!

To be fair, it was hard to startle Hawks. Living in a world where the extraordinary was, well, normal, nothing much caught him off guard. Or so he liked to think. Especially on sunny days in Tokyo when he had a bucket of KFC under one arm while he munched on a chicken leg, ostensibly on patrol. If a villain attacked, he needed to keep his energy up. It would suck to get struck by a blood sugar low out of nowhere.

That was how he justified most of the constant eating he took part in.

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the ACCIDENTAL EXTRADIMENSIONAL TOURIST meme

Sahu | Wake Up Deadman

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Atreus | God of War

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skekSa the Mariner | The Dark Crystal

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Samuel Solomon / Y the Mystic ✨ Superhero OC

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