[center][b][h2][color=teal]Dragon Rayo[/color][/h2][/b][/center]

 [color=deepskyblue]Tossing and turning, he was startled by the loud noises invading his ears. He was dazed and uncertain of the sounds he was hearing. Opening his eyes, he was immediately blinded by a sudden flash. His hands instinctively acted like a visor to adjust to the lighting of his environment. His body shifted slightly and there was confusion regarding the surface he was laying down on. 

 Titling his head, he spat onto the floor. He had something weird in his mouth; they popped under his teeth and tasted foul. The sensation was familiar and helped him realize he was on a beach. The grains of sand in his mouth and the lukewarm floor was all too recognizing. The music he kept hearing was becoming more clear.

 Instead of hearing distorted sounds, it was shifting into recognizable beats and bashes. He could tell of the rhythm in the song. Touching his mask, he remembered his request. His wish was granted. 

 "Dreams do come true," Dragon Rayo muttered. He took a few moments to bring himself to his feet. The luchador was still getting used to handling a body full of muscle mass. Overall, he felt groggy, but it did not look as if he was alone. He was taken by surprise of a crowd of people dancing sporadically to the music. 

 It was a weird sight; men of different sizes and races were strutting along to the high-pitched sounds of techno music. Dragon Rayo stopped and took into account of everything. "[i]Why am I here? Is this my purpose?[/i]" The luchador brainstormed questions and tried thinking of possible answers.

 He touched his forehead and was taken back by his mask. [i]"Of course. I am a lucha-"[/i] His thought was interrupted by a short man offering an illegal substance of some kind. He watched other people begin consuming unknown chemicals. Rayo was not looking forward to be drunk in this new body. He already felt confused enough. 

"No, senor. I can't right now."[/color]


[h2][color=limegreen]Beach:[/color][/h2]

 [hider=Let the Future Worry About the Future] [i] Jemma was beginning to go through the process. Her vision was becoming crimson and her senses had been heightened. The techno music increased in volume and the voices of the passerby became increasingly loud. The sun might have shown a little more light. Everything that she was experiencing before hand became too excessive. After a quick moment, her vision went back to normal. The sounds she was hearing and the lightning went back to normal. 

 Then her vision flashed into a blue filter. Her vision was a bit hazy and her eyes had cutaway to another view point. By her perspective, she could see herself be grabbed by a beast man. The beast man had said, "This is the place where bad decisions happen, where man, woman and whatever else, give in to their deeper desires and enjoy the life they have!” She could see the individual snatch a few drinks from other party-goers. Focusing on the party-goer who had the misfortune of his drink snatched, his expression turned sour. 

[b]“Let the future you worry about the future, [/b]this moment belongs to you and me and all of us! Now drink up and shake your stuff!” said the beast man. The other party-goer stepped forward. He was displeased to have his drink taken away and he aggressively pushed the beast folk. "Hey, buddy! You owe me a drink!"

The blue filter ended and Jemma felt a strong urge to throw up.

Effects:
Slight Motion Sickness
Able to see Moments into the Future
(All effects are Temporary)[/i]

[color=lightblue] A blonde man had the misfortune of his drink taken away. He gritted his teeth and walked over to the beast man. Confronting him with a push, he demanded the beast man buy him another. 

 The dwarf stepped a bit back. "This party is getting more wild!" The short man began screaming out loud and pumping his fist. "C'mon, muscle-bound. You should take pointers from that beast man!" [/color][/hider]

[h2][color=limegreen]Farmhouse:[/color][/h2]

[hider=Misunderstanding][color=lightblue] The scarecrow stepped a bit back; he was taken back by the laughter. He began having second-thoughts about fighting. There was a slight feeling of danger surging through his body. From what he had heard, these two could be all-powerful. The scarecrow was not sure if he was ready to give up his life. 

 He acknowledged one thing. He wasn't going to fight alone. There was no way he could that. "Ezekiel! They're here!" The scarecrow's yell rambled the other's ears. The beetle jumped off his eye socket due to the vibrations of his voice. Crows hidden inside the field had flew away in terror. 

The scarecrow looked over to the farmhouse. The sound of wind chimes could be heard during the pause of silence. There was an outside screen door that could be seen on the farmhouse. The particular ones that creak every time they are opened. The particular ones that always slam against the wall from the wind if someone doesn't possible properly close them. 

 This particular screen door slammed against the door as a man darted outside and through the fields. His feet moved quickly through the corn. The scarecrow turned over to the three. "...No matter what. I won't back down." 

 A man in overalls popped out of the fields. He was your typical southern stereotype; Ezekiel, as the scarecrow called him, had black mutton chops and unruly hair style. His attire was simple stained overalls and a plaid shirt underneath. The farmer's boots were old and torn. In the farmer's hands was a Marlin 60 Rifle. He immediately pointed the firearm at the intruders. "I knew this day would come, damn it. Don't do this! I have kids! I said I'll have everything by next week! I need more time, damn it!" 

 The farmer breathed heavily. "I don't want to to do this..." [/color][/hider]