[color=ed1c24]Execu[/color]tive [color=0072bc]Branch[/color]; [color=662d91]Flores Island[/color] the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean, undetermined time. 

(OOC This is that colab between Byrd Man and I; had a lot of fun with this.)

Flores Island the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean, undetermined time. A calm morning wind blew through the idyllic little island of hills and mountains. The sky was clear as glass and nay a peep from any local wildlife. But as the sun beamed down on this small island a thunderous clap bombed at the island center sending a shockwave that sent waves rising up from the ocean and outward towards the sea. Those who could see what caused such a massive disturbance saw  a brilliant flash of lights as a Woman garbed in what would appear as lingerie fell to the ground her left arm crashing into the dirt first as her body followed. Through the pain she quickly turned to see a tear a door into space time trying to force it’s way open. She had trouble entering this world someone capable had safeguards already in place and regrettably she needed to break through.

She laid her eyes upon the growing portal a vivid pulsing violet ripple and saw it was trying to force itself open. With each second it sent vicious shockwaves from its epicenter while bolts of magical energy lashed out against all rending  earth and rock apart. She only had minute before it would become far too big for her to handle and acting quickly she whipped out a long staff imbued  with glowing azure veins with a diamond tip and a blade attached to its end she held it towards the tear mustering her remaining strength to keep it at bay long as she could. She hoped that whoever set these wards up would come to her aid, or at the least someone powerful enough to help her seal this rift.  

Executive Branch Headquarters
Mt. Rushmore, SD
Subbasement 4
"Nixonland"

"Kissinger!"

The short and plump frame of Henry Kissinger shuffled down the dark corridors of Nixon's study. Ancient leather bound books sat on rows of shelves Kissinger passed. Along with books were jars of organs and small creatures pickled in formaldehyde. A dismembered hand floating in the liquid tapped the glass as Kissinger walked by. The former Secretary of State ignored the hand's taunts and kept walking. The hand twisted itself to show its middle finger.

Kissinger came out of the corridor of shelves into the study's rotunda where all the shelves ended. More books and specimens cluttered a half dozen large wooden tables. A spider the size of a German Shepard scuttled across one table and disappeared beneath it. Racing after it was a spider of equal size, but it appeared to be made out of rope vines. Kissinger looked at the odd and unusual sights with bored contempt before casting his eyes up.

"Yes, sir?" he mumbled in a monotone voice that had a thick German accent.

In the middle of the study, floating cross-legged above the rotunda was Richard Nixon. The 37th US President's usual suit and tie had been swapped out for a set of dark robes and a hood. He started drifting back down to the ground, finally unfolding his legs just before they were inches from the floor.

"Yes," Nixon finally said. "Did you collect the samples I need?"

"Yes, sir." Kissinger reached into his jacket pocket and handed Nixon three vials. "One vial of pig blood, a lock of hair from a virgin, and the wart from Bob Woodward's backside."

"Good man... especially on that last one."

Kissinger shuddered while Nixon pocketed the samples into his robes. While his lackey shuffled off, Nixon hurried down one of the rows of books to find what he needed. He pulled a book bound in human skin from the shelf and began to thumb through it.

"I... have a dream..."

Nixon looked up from his reading and sighed. He put the book back on the shelf and walked through the study towards a large pane of two-way glass. One the opposite side of the glass was Martin Luther King Jr., laid out on a metal slab and mumbling and jerking in his sleep. Sweat trickled down his brow as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I have a dream... By the pricking of my thumbs something wicked this way comes. Yes... I have a dream that the son of the Republic will be found wanting by the void... From the mountains of Russia to the deserts of Africa, from Mississippi to Mongolia, we will see... Death at last, death at last, God save us all from death at last. I have a dream... "

Nixon stepped away the glass, wiping sweat from his forehead that he didn't know was there. He shook his head and stepped away from the now sleeping King. The communication device on his wrist chirped with an incoming message.

"Attention, Mr. Nixon," the young technician said over the line. "It seems we have a potential inter-dimensional event occurring in the North Atlantic. Coordinates are on your wrist link."

The line went dead. He checked the information on his wrist. Some island he had never heard of before in his life. So much for doing some light reading. Nixon ran his fingers through his hair with his left while rigging up an transportation spell with his right. When the spell finished, he disappeared from the study in a puff of gray smoke.

As the woman strained herself to keep the portal from expanding further unbeknownst to her a robbed man had teleported onto the nearby fields in the midst of this chaos as a bolt struck the ground mere feet away split the earth while the portal crackled. Bolts had struck her time and time again and she heaved and sweat mixed with her own blood dripped down her body pooling at her feet while she mustered all her strength and attempted to endure. 

Nixon's eyes went wide when he saw the scene in front of him. Before he could react, some sort of energy surged from the portal and cracked open the ground. He hurried towards the portal and the woman trying like hell to contain it. He made a few counter-spell incantations with his hands and shot energy towards the bulging portal. Another wave of energy swept out through the gate, the shockwave knocking the hood from Nixon's head.



The portal continued to spew out constant magical energies as someone blasted the portal trying to stop it’s expand. The woman glanced over just as he began to yell, she was physically at her limits her body warn down not only from the portal but from what came before it.   

 "What in the hell is going on?" he asked the woman once he was close enough. He tried to yell over the din as she and him tried to contain the ever growing rip in the fabric of the universe. "This is a major transdimensional gate, goddammit. How did it appear here so suddenly?"

“I created this!” She yelled through the agonizing pain and a strained facial expression. “If you have time to chat help me stop this, you better be ancient or a higher class of mage; I hate disappointing men. God help us all if you’re not.”

Baring his teeth, he spewed out counter-spells with both his hands and mouth. He had only been a mage for just over twenty years, but in those two decades he had soaked up every bit of arcane knowledge he could possibly learn. His rejuvenated body kickstarted that old ambition that had taken him from a decrepit lemon farm in California all the way to the Oval Office. There was nothing he couldn't do when he put his mind to it, magic included. Now there were few on this plain as well-versed as he in the magical arts.

"I can feel it buckling," he shouted. "Keep going!"

The woman sneered at the man’s less than stellar attempts at casting arcane spells, no Grimore and certainly no imbued artifacts. She viewed him as a novice playing with forces he did not understand  yet at present he was proving capable and that vexed her to no end. And furthermore in her state she couldn’t sustain herself any longer a choice must be made one she balked at  but one all too necessary. Reaching for a small pouch just under her sheer robe she reached for a book and begrudgingly tossed it to the unknown man.

“I expect it back child!! It’s pages are too much to bear for any normal man. The  Arcanium Magisterium is a powerful grimore had I still my vigor I’d never trust you with such an artifact but I no longer have any energy to go on.” The woman casting a quick spell without uttering a word flips the pages until they land on a single entry.

“I expect a child such as yourself capable enough to cast the chant. Read that page and only that page least your mind be torn asunder.” She said as the staff she carried finally dimmed and a bolt threw her back scarring her chest with a gaping wound.  The book itself beamed with powers few who read these pages lived and fewer still retained their sanity or at least that was the feeling the book gave off.  

He cut his eyes at the woman. If this were another time and scenario, she would learn all about his power. For now, he glanced down at the powerful book and read the words on the page, written in an ancient language, and spoken in an ancient tongue. He continued reading even as the tempest increased all around them, even as his new compatriot was struck by a bolt of magic. He had to keep pressing forward, for once the chant was started it would be devastating to end it. The spells from this unholy book had a way of taking on a life of their own. The portal was already a major problem, the last thing they needed was more.

As the unknown man chanted the spell from a bygone era the portal whilst expanding appeared to fluctuate collapsing in on itself and bulging as it tried to rebound from the old magic poured out in force; a power so overwhelming that even the caster must be feeling the aftereffects. As the words left his lips and echoed through the air lights like thousands of fireflies drifted from the pages the light had a soft warmth to it as the dots of lights floated upwards smashing against the tear in space as if there was a wall being repaired each time a dot of light impacted the portal. It was a sight to behold as the portal shrank and undulated until it ceased to simply exist as a bricklayer would seal off the final layer of a mighty wall so too did the tear be sealed as the last word spoken echoed off into the distance.

The woman laid on the ground far from the portal as her hand lay over her wound. “The book. Return it at once! So help me if you don’t I have ways of forcing you.” As she cursed through her teeth a splurt of blood splattered the ground before her. “The book, don’t be tempted by it’s power, save should you unleash worse upon this world.”  

"Take the goddamn thing," he said as he dropped the book on the ground.

He wiped a thick layer of sweat from his face and slung it to the ground. That book. It was real power. That was what he craved the most, all his life he had wanted more and more and more. And now in his afterlife, he wanted it even worse. But that book was something else. It was the type of object that could bend you to its will if you weren't careful. It was a thing with a soul, and that soul was a wicked one.

The woman quickly snatched the book carelessly tossed to the ground and pocketed it into her small pouch. She looked up at him as he spoke.

"And you need to be healed," he said as he observed the wounded woman.

“A night is all I need, once I regain my magic I can heal myself.” Taking a moment to finally look around, she saw the destruction the event had caused and the calm skies of this new world. “Where am I. This world which Earth is this?”

"Last I remember, this Earth's designation in the multiverse branch is C09-A16H."

Nixon slipped his hood back on his head and slipped his hands into the drooping sleeves of his robes.

The woman took a moment to think, she knew other multiverses and had been to a few herself time to time. But this one had an odd feeling to it, like she had been here already. Yet in all her thoughts she could not place it anywhere among them. 

"As to your wounds, I can provide refuge for the night in friendly confines."

The offer of refuge was tempting although she knew nothing of the man before her, he had at least proven himself a possible ally if only for her to use later. “Refuge from a man I do not know, I may be many things but I never sleep with a stranger who doesn’t seem to be overly concerned where or why I came here. Although I didn’t intend to come here per se as I had no time to enter a specific destination before my universe ceased to exist; unfortunately that led to the unstable collapse of the portal since there was no longer another universe on the other side, a black hole essentially. But for the moment Child a place to rest might be good. Consider yourself honored to know my name, I am the great Merlin, the Boar’s Sin of Greed.”  

Inside the confines of Nixonland, the 37th president of the United States conjured up a pair of plush chairs for himself and his guest. Somewhere behind him Henry Kissinger scuttled off to fix tea for his master and his master's guest. Nixon motioned to one of the chairs in front of them.

Merlin looked about, an amateur's study at best but these things these walls they were different from the construction that she knew. The teleportation was quick disappearing in a puff of smoke, a child's trick easily mastered but handy nonetheless. The furniture he conjured was unlike anything she had ever seen, as she swiped her hand across it's lush fabric. "I might like this world." She said with a devious smile.

"Welcome to my sanctuary. Sit, please. I have some questions."

(OOC Merlin probably won't be making another appearance for a while. Not until I need her, this was more or less an elaborate introduction. I talked to the GMs, and came to the conclusion that I will most likely need my own Merlin at times.)