Welcome to Gaia! ::

Familiar sounds assaulted David, dragging him out of his memories and back to - the land of the living? He felt... well, pain, actually, but that usually signified being alive. Despite the recent barrage of memories belong to David, the final memories of Delta Seven were still playing loud and clear as well. The dichotomy of a knife through the throat versus hospital sounds had Delt- no, David, forcing his eyes open.

He blinked as the blurry figure in front of him slowly solidified into a clear image of a man. Of a Hunter, he reminded himself, even though the scythe made his mind jump to reapers again.

The guy was asking him questions... and then telling him not to answer. David managed one nod and decided to obey. It hadn't sounded like an order, but better to hold his tongue and hope that explanations were forthcoming. There was a phrase one of his trainers had been fond of, what was it... oh yes. Better to remain silent and be thought an idiot than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.

Wait, what was the guy saying about his arm...? David craned his neck, trying to peer down at the rest of his body. He trembled with the strain, and collapsed back onto the bed after only a minute. Face twisting, he cursed aloud. His right hand flew to his chest - dogtags still present, and he allowed himself to relax a little.

The desire to swear left his mind as another figure approached. This one, David knew. A grin began to split his lips. "Well," he rasped out, then had to clear his throat a few times to get his voice working again, "looks like I get to see you again after all."

It should have been surprising, after bleeding to death in front of the guy, but this lot had already proven to David that they had control over life and death - at least, on the island during the test. The only real surprise was that David had passed their test. David raised his chin and tried to move once again. Failure wasn't an option, and so David moved himself into an upright position, sitting up on his 'bed'. From here, he could clearly see the stump that was all that remained of his left arm. His lips firmed, whitened, and his right hand curled into a fist. Small mercies, he told himself, be grateful for small mercies. He was right-handed. He was alive. He'd passed the test and could still fight - this lot didn't look like they were about to kick him out for only having one arm left. No more discharges from service, thank you very much.

He gave the... doctor?... his best confident look. "Ninety-five percent sounds about right," he said, lying, but not about to admit to any weakness that wasn't life-threatening. Besides, it could have been worse. Apart from outright dying, he could have lost a leg. A one-armed guy could still be imposing to face in battle - a one legged guy, not so much.

"Others?" he repeated. Now he was curious. Test passed, was he about to finally learn everything about this mysterious Hunters? David straightened, squaring his shoulders. He swung his legs off his bed and rose to his feet. The initial shakiness would, he hoped, be put down to the blood loss that the doctor had mentioned. He gave the doctor a nod of thanks, then turned to follow the recruiter through the sliding doors. "Lead the way."

David had trusted the guy throughout this whole experience. It hadn't led him wrong so far, safely out the other side of testing. Besides, if these guys were his new 'squad mates', then trust was a necessary component of that.

More secrets and answers, or more tests? Bring it on. David was ready.

Snap out of this dream-

It was like crashing into a wall. Madison - formerly known as Alpha Two - was on her hands and knees, gasping for breath. The fact that she could breathe was probably a good thing...

She stared down at her hands. Something was odd about them, somethi- she could see her hands. They were gloveless. She pushed up off the floor and rocked back into a sitting position, raising her hands to touch her own face. No mask, even if the stale tang to the air here made her almost wish for one. No mask, no...

... No helmet. A frown flickered over her face. No Phoenix mark. She would have to fix that, at some point. When she got out of here. Wherever here was.

She spent a few minutes catching her breath, assessing herself. She was wearing her school clothes now, somewhat the worse for wear - rumpled, crumpled, like she'd slept in them. Maybe she had? They weren't anywhere near as gross as they would have been if she'd had them on under that stupid 'uniform' the whole time. Or, at least, they didn't look like she'd been crushed into a smoothie-like consistency while wearing them.

Euuuugh.

Madison shuddered at the memory, then got to her feet, finally turning her attention to the rest of the room. There were weird egg-things hanging everywhere, with glowing writing that she couldn't read etched all over them. Had she come out of something like that? She couldn't remember... and she didn't particularly want to think about it.

Her gaze was, instead, drawn to the door. Another door. Of course. This one was filled with light instead of darkness... but given all she'd already been through, it was impossible to be intimidated by the sight of yet another door. Still, she looked back at the pods one more time. "You guys... you better, like, come after me. Or I'll never forgive you," she announced, pointing at them. "If I can rise like a Phoenix, so, like, can the rest of you! So hurry up!"

The constant, soft hum was all that answered, but it made her feel better anyway. Madison fruitlessly tried to smooth out her rumpled clothing, ran her hands through her hair a few times, then squared her shoulders and walked through the door.

“Wake…”

“… up? HRK.” Trying to speak during one’s first moments of reemergence into a plane of existence proved a terrible strain. Scott’s throat clenched around a single syllable, trying to expel the word through a series of sputtering coughs. Hands lifted up to rub soothingly at his neck, and if not for the dizzying recalibration of his senses, he might have noticed that his fingers were no longer encased in thick leather. In fact, not a single inch of him was clad in that awful, smothering uniform, a fact he would be much more appreciative of when he wasn’t curled up in the fetal position on a hard, cold floor, shapeless colors swirling and coalescing around him.

Once his entire world stopped sucking, Scott was able to push up onto his knees and get a basic handle on both himself and his surroundings. A full minute was spent admiring his flesh, unaware that skin with such a bad complexion could look so wonderful. He spent some time breathing, finding the dank air distinctly unpleasant but just happy that he wasn’t sucking in oxygen through a mask. He sat for a while, studying the curious pods, trying fruitlessly to make sense of the indecipherable runes. And once he was done soaking everything in, he was able to devote himself fully to being incredibly ******** pissed.

Wake up? Like the island had all been some dream? Some simulation or fantasy or mutual hallucination? And it had all felt so real. He was neurotic enough, he didn’t need to add his perception of reality to the list of things he questioned. And, really, whose idea of a dream was that? Yes, dreams were the place where fear and guilt and paranoia could rear their ugly heads untethered. Yes, dreams were nonsensical reconstructions of the fragments of one’s subconscious. Yes, demon horses and girls who thought they were wizards and teams named after mythical creatures consisting of murderous strangers in gas masks could only ever make sense in a dream.

But.

Uhm.

They didn’t have to be such jerks about it.

Of course, Scott still didn’t know who “they” were. Whoever was running the whole operation, Scott sheepishly realized that it certainly wasn’t God, and he most likely wasn’t going to find out who was behind everything by just sitting around. He had been told to move on, and there was only one place in the room to do that. He stood, wiping the dust and folds out of his suit pants and dress shirt. As he walked toward the doorway, he tried adjusting his tie and nametag, but discovered both to be missing.

He paused briefly at the threshold, peering into the bright light. Just as he had done on the edge of the void in the lounge. Just as he had done all those years ago in the sewer drain in the woods behind his house. Looking into something and expecting to find answers seemed to be a recurring motif in his life, though it had only ever led to him learning things he didn’t even want to know. Maybe this time would be different. The voice had mentioned a world where he was significant. The stranger had teased him with the promise of answers to all those questions he had spent his entire life trying not to address. In death, he had accepted the finality of not learning anything. It seemed strange to have that acceptance pulled right out from beneath his feet, but as he stood looking into the light, he was reminded why he had signed up in the first place.

“Wait…” His voice was hoarse, but its clarity was an overwhelming comfort. “Didn’t I have a spear a second ago?” He frowned, hoping that hadn’t just been some sort of metaphor. If any sort of resolution laid beyond the door, he hoped his lack of spear would be the first matter addressed. He had never considered himself a fighter, but that weapon had felt so powerful in his hands. Scott flexed his hands, remembering the heft and weight of the thing as he walked through the doorway.

Robert blew his hair out of his face, even with his eyes still closed.

Then they snapped open, as he suddenly realized he could feel his hair on his face. He lifted his hand up and - hands. Uncovered, big, sexy hands. He kissed each one as if they were a treasure, and rubbed them down the sides of his face, before reaching up into his hair and running his fingers through them.

"Oh. Yeah. That is what I am talking about." He purred, tugging on the strands as they fell back into his face. He blew them away again, and started stretching his arms and neck out. As his hand reached around his shoulder to rotate it, he took a good look at his surroundings.

Cheesy alien movie props much?

Robert cracked his knuckles and got up. His feet stomped on the ground, hard, one at a time, and he grinned. It felt good to be free of that damn outfit. The only question was..

He lifted his arms to his head again. "Killer hair. Check." His hand brushed down his face. "Gorgeous face. Check." His biceps flexed, even as he smacked his chest. "Muscles. Check." His hand reached down and grabbed his package.

"CHECK."

Well, he was all in one piece, and he was alive. There wasn't much more he could ask for right now. There was an open door, and open doors were meant for going through - so that is exactly what he did.

He grumbled under his breath as he headed out, blowing his hair out of his face again. "I need a ********' haircut."

What?! Did she pick the wrong door?! No way! She'd passed! She had! Candace winced and raised her arms to brace herself, only to suddenly realize she was seeing...light. She closed her eyes and hissed before opening them again to look around, seeing a few others in the room. What just happened? She stepped out of the strange pod she had been in and realized she felt...lighter. She felt less bulky, and her vision was clear, no longer the blood-stained gas mask she had been wearing.

Wait! The gas mask! Candace gasped and practically wrapped her arms around her head in a moment of 'OH s**t HOW IS MY HEAD NOT EXPLODED' panic until she realized she was feeling hair, and she was very much alive. She looked around quietly with wide eyes, making a small sound of awe and wonderment. She was alive.

She giggled a moment, looking down at herself and patting around her middle to find she wasn't scarred or bleeding or cut in half anymore. She was alive! She was okay! The dark girl jumped and cheered, landing on her feet and spinning on the balls of her feet with her arms out and her head tilted back. She did it! She took control of her life and gave herself a new chance! There was no way in hell she was returning to that small, ******** up town.

Candace wore a huge grin on her face as she spotted the door the others seemed to be going through, hurrying to it until she paused a moment. Wait, was the door going to shatter again? She reached out to poke at it, looking around suspiciously. Hm...everyone else was going through it...how did she know this wasn't some kind of dream again? She tried pinching herself, finding bare skin on her arm and pinching until it really hurt. Okay, okay! She was awake. She was alive. This was all really happening. She looked toward the pods that were in the room as well, her grin faltering a moment. Pods? What were those about? Had she come out of one? That...that didn't mean everything that had happened had been fake, right?

...No way, that couldn't be it. It really happened. She chuckled to herself and shook her head, resting one hand on her hip and ruffling her short black hair with the other as she strolled confidently through the door. This time it didn't shatter into a million pieces. Good, good.

Emmaline could feel her limbs now, but her eyes were blinded by the sudden light. She sat up, coughing and gasping for air and rubbing her eyes. Her hand brushed past short, cropped hair, and she realized with a jolt that she was no longer wearing the bodysuit or mask that had become like her second skin. Her other hand closed around empty air, and she realized the spear she had held was no longer there-- had it been only a dream?

Her head was still reeling in pain as she stood and swept her gaze across the room, eyes slowly adjusting to the white lighting. She realized she was sweating and her heartbeat was still pounding; the place, with its rows of glowing pods and the nauseatingly dank air, unsettled her, but here, the fog was gone. There was something real about this place, so much more real than the misty island or her old world, where she had moved through each day in a haze. She wondered if this was where she would find the answers the stranger had promised.

Or maybe they would all be killed by flaming horses again.

She walked slowly, shakily towards the only door in the room.

Each time he 'awoke' it always seem like it would bring forth another place with more unfamiliar surroundings. Each time he 'awoke' Jude began to question if it was just another dream or if it was truly reality or not. It felt odd and yet oddly connected somehow. His brow furrowed as his eyes slid half shut trying not to be blinded all at once by the light.

It all felt real enough. The chill air against exposed skin caused a shudder as he looked down and saw his hands for the first time in what seemed ages. Now without the armor without everything that 'protected' him he felt more naked than he had ever before but it was more like the feeling of being vulnerable than naked. He wore clothes although just a simple shirt and a pair of pants but that was alright he didn't need to be 'fashionable' just preferred to not be literally naked.

Otherwise this was similar to other dreams he had in the past. Any minute now he'd have to stand up and give a prese--

..His mind was wandering. Jude ran his hands through his hair and as he dragged his hand away some strands of blonde caused him to pause a moment. Heh. He had forgotten his own hair color for a bit there.

Finally the young man moved to walk forwards - shambling and unsteady at first but gaining confidence in his step as he moved on. This time it wasn't some crazy hallucination with weird horses and misty places. It wasn't a strange dream of darkness speaking of death and awakenings.

He felt alive now. Oh so alive.

Jude wandered forward and walked through the only open door he had seen. He had decided not to question the other pods or anything else about the room for fear that his already full head would burst trying to just comprehend it.

That first deep breath of air hurt.

The wakeup from stasis was not a a smooth one, at least not for Petra Walker. Their bodies had been inactive far past any natural state, no doubt placed as such by the hooded reapers who had propositioned them, but their minds had been at least partially awake the entire time, putting their entire being at odds. It was not a gradual transition, like waking up from sleep, but a violent jerk of the senses, like awaking suddenly from a nightmare. Not so inaccurate a metaphor, either, considering the hell which had been their last few days. That first subtle hiss, and the sudden feeling of cold, wet air was like a jolt of electricity, and suddenly she was gasping for air, as if suddenly realizing the shallow breaths she had been taking just weren't enough. Her chest heaved as she sucked in deep, hungry breaths of air, ignoring the wet feeling of it in her lungs, and at the same time her eyes snapped open to flick around the far-too-bright room, hands half-flailing out to touch the sides of the pod she still stood in.

She didn't need to actively think about the fact that she wasn't dead. That was more of a dim realization, a side-effect of suddenly finding yourself somewhere else. Instead, Petra bypassed that thought entirely, paying it only a moment's notice before turning her attention to the futuristic room she had found herself in, her body slowly starting to adjust to the lights and sensations. Blinking her eyes slowly a few times to focus them, she looked around at the inside of the pod for a second, sliding her hands up the sides before flicking them back to opening, then down to her clothes. They were stiff, and caked with dirt, but they were dry -- it was impossible to tell how long she'd been in the pod, but it had been long enough.

As her breathing slowed, and over-tensed muscles relaxed, she slowly stepped from the pod, looking around for a moment at the room. Although there were countless pods unopened, many were empty -- she had the distinct feeling she was late, although it was muted, the thought not perturbing her too much. She'd been told not to linger, as well, but that too didn't weigh too heavily on her mind, taking the time to look around at the unopened pods with an unreadable expression. When you'd killed and died, it didn't really feel like words like 'please walk through the door' were too urgent. Still, she wasted only a few seconds regardless, taking another half a second to glance down at her empty palms with a mildly bewildered expression before she turned towards the door, crossing the room quickly to walk through it.