[h2]Carl Hanratty--Unspecified City[/h2]

"What in the world?!" yelped Agent Carl Hanratty, dodging a car as it aggressively honked its horn. Hanratty jumped in between the two double-yellow lines painted onto the asphalt. "I'm no jaywalker! How the hell did I get in the middle of the street?! Without a crosswalk?!"

Hanratty scratched his head. "Traffic's pretty bad; must be rush hour," Hanratty mused. "Shoot, can't get past all these cars without getting mowed over... This is going to be a problem.

Hanratty tried waving down the cars, but to no avail; likely they thought he was some sort of madman for standing in the middle of the street. One BMW actually tried to ram him. Hanratty, despite being no spring chicken, managed to dodge out of the way. "Hey! That's against the law!" he hollered after the BMW. "Vehicular manslaughter is a penal offense!"

[h2]Morgan[/h2]

Morgan glanced over at the street upon hearing the blaring of horns. "Who's standing there?" Morgan wondered, squinting her eyes and looking through the line of cars. An older man in a grey suit and a fedora had somehow wandered into the street, and was now trying to get out alive (but failing). Morgan's eyes shot open as she realized the gravity of the situation and jumped right into action. Morgan pulled from under her coat a green book. "Rexcalibur!" Morgan shouted, flipping the book's pages and thrusting her hands downwards. Around her, the air temperature began to fall as water vapor condensed into snow, swirling around her. Within this miniature blizzard, Morgan lifted herself off the ground and with delicate movements aimed herself towards the man in the street. She circled her hands around in specific configurations to ease her fall, before landing daintily next to the man. "I'm pretty sure that you know this isn't safe," Morgan said to the man, "and I have no doubt that you didn't mean to get here in this way. Need a lift?"

Morgan held out a gloved hand to the man. He took it, and Morgan launched herself, the man in tow, back towards the sidewalk. She landed and stepped forward twice, before setting the stunned fellow down. Morgan waved a hand in front of the man's face. "Hey, you alright? It's just magic," Morgan said.

"What're you talkin' about? There ain't no such thing as magic," the man stammered.

Morgan snapped her fingers and a little flame sparked in between them. "Tell me I didn't just make a fire appear in my hand," Morgan retorted.

The man wiped sweat off his brow. "Can't say you didn't," he said.

This answer seemed to satisfy Morgan. She helped the man off the ground. "My name's Morgan I'm an aspiring tactician," she said.

"Hanratty. Carl Hanratty. F.B.I.," Hanratty said, taking Morgan's hand and hoisting himself up. He adjusted his hat. "So, where am I?"

"Oh, I haven't bothered to check the name of the city," Morgan said, shrugging.

Hanratty blinked. "But... shouldn't you have seen the name of the city when you strolled in?" he asked.

"I didn't just stroll in, Mr. Hanratty, I warped in," Morgan explained. "Kind of like you probably did, given that you had spontaneously appeared in the middle of the street. Speaking of which, who sent you?"

Hanratty scratched his head. "I wasn't [i]sent,[/i] young lady," Hanratty replied. "Quite frankly, I haven't got the foggiest idea how I wound up surrounded by moving cars."