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Eliza hands fumbled across the table for a bit before she came across a thin piece of wood. She wasn't really sure what it was as it was under a pool of wax, but she hoped it would be a match. It was apparent that the candles had been used before, so their had to be a way to light them.

She pulled at the piece of wood, attempting to free it so that she could examine it really hoping for a match. Otherwise, well she wasn't really sure at the moment what the otherwise was, but she would figure it out.

Wait, and light will find you.

Finn breathed a sigh of relief as the first candle fluttered to life, followed by several others. His master's lessons had not been meritless. The boy reached for his own candle and lit it, then rose once more from his chair now that he could see. Light would, at the very least, keep him from further injuring himself.

Crossing the room carefully as to not accidentally extinguish his flame, he made his way towards the tall man by the fireplace. There was something about the face that was vaguely familiar, but Finn couldn't perfectly place him. The surrounding, perhaps? He had more than a passing resemblance to Chris Gallo (also present - unfortunately), but Finn didn't want to asume anything at this point. The evening was just too weird.

He knelt by the hearth. The embers indicated there'd been a fire here recently, but it was just cinders now. Camping experience meant that if he had wood, he could build a fire and properly light the room.

"Do you see any firewood?" he asked the man who looked vaguely like a Gallo, rising to his feet. Candle extended, he began to look around for a woodpile - or anything that could possibly be used as kindling.

Ah! So it wasn't a classroom at all! Instead, it seemed to be more like a formal dinning room. Odd... very odd... But the discovery of the hearth with the dying embers was enough for Michael. He was at least now able to keep his feet a little warmer. He just needed to step closer to the embers. He picked up the poker to try and stoke the fire back to life, but that didn't seem like it would do much good if there was no fuel.

There should be some kind of basket that kept wood, right? Michael looked around the fireplace for more wood. Over his shoulder, he noticed a few lights flickering to life, but he didn't pay it too much attention. After all, he'd been the one to find the fireplace, so he was going to worry about that first, rather than the candles.

Although, the voice over his shoulder soon caught his attention. A mousey looking boy with lots of freckles seemed to be approaching him. "Hmm, well, I was looking, but if you'd rather take care of it, then be my guest," he said with a sweep of his hand, but held onto the poker he'd found.

That way, if firewood was found, then he'd hopefully be able to stoke the fire to life.



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Glad that the match was enough, Chris lit the candle he was holding onto, before looking around the room to those nearby. He only recognized Tony... no... Camelot... so far, but he supposed that was enough for now. He wasn't really searching to see if he knew every person in the room, especially when it was still rather dark.

Well, Babylon was there as well, but he didn't count.

"What do you think all this means?" he wondered out loud. It felt too real to be a dream, too surreal to be reality... There were people he knew. Knights. There was a girl there he'd met while getting presents together just a couple months ago, but everyone else looked... maybe a bit familiar, but no one he'd really talked to stood out other than Camelot and Babylon. "Where are we?" he asked, not only to the others, but perhaps to the room itself.

Ha... as if a room could answer.

While Lian had attempted to stay put in his seat and wait—for what he didn’t know—but eventually he noticed small balls of light flicker in the darkness. His expression remained the same when he realized there were others in room and they were lighting candles. He stretched out a hand for a match and after a couple of attempts of striking it under the table, managed to light it and gladly lit the candle in front of him before shaking out the match’s light.

Now that a number of candles were glowing, it was easier to make out faces, but there didn’t seem to be any that Lian recognized. A certain Valhalla—no, it was Chris Gallo—caught his attention, but it seemed his college friend had yet to recognize him. Lian couldn’t blame Chris. Despite the candles and dying fireplace, it was still pretty dim. People were beginning to wander around the room more freely and he chose to do the same. He slid the chair back then stood up. Lian looked down at his plain attire and took a second to stare at his clothes. While not exactly what he would have chosen to wear, he didn’t exactly have a second change of clothes to slip into. It would do for now.

He looked over at Tony. “I’m fine. I think everyone else is too.” Lian began to walk around, one hand on the wall as he searched the walls, looking for some sort of door or entrance. Unless they all just magically teleported here?

“No freaking clue,” he admitted to Chris.

“Interesting” He murmured glancing around at the other faces, some familiar and some not with his newly lit candle. He would offer his candle to help other’s light their own, and those candles left on the table to further illuminate the room even if it was a small light. The more candles lit the better, right? They could always blow some out later if they needed to save them.

He reached up almost a distracted gesture to run a finger over the bridge of his nose and feel the scar there as though to confirm it was not gone.

“It’s all grey.” He marveled, some people swore that people actually only dreamed in black and white, and filled in color from their memory. It was never a theory he had given much thought to till it surfaced in that moment. Were they dreaming, was HE dreaming?”

The first candle flickered into sight, and Fritz, standing with his hands in his pockets, was able to see at least a bit better. It was still dark, still dim and watery, but it was enough so that he could finally see that he was, in fact, not the only one in the room. In fact, there were several other people in the room with him - some familiar, some unfamiliar. Leaning over to the table, Fritz carefully selected a candle, idly running his fingers up and down the smooth wax.

Faces swam in and out of his view - some, like the older man with the neatly trimmed beard, looked as though he somewhat resembled Camelot, leaving Fritz squinting to make out his face a bit more. However, there were at least two in the room that were quite recognizable, and Fritz, with a small sigh of relief, stepped across the room towards the first, reaching out a hand to gently squeeze the shoulder of a certain blonde.

"What's going on here, then?" he said, leaning over Mary and peering down, his lips pressed together in a thoughtful sort of frown. His longish hair, longer than it had been his last time seeing Mary, hung down over his face, and Fritz pushed it aside as his gaze swept over across the room, narrowing slightly.

His eyes flickered sideways.

"Eliza, darling, is that you? It's difficult to see..."

Fumbling around a bit, Fritz smoothed his hand over the wood of the table, and then glanced aside at another young man, stepping over towards him and holding out his candle.

"Mind if I ask for a light, then?" he asked cheerfully. "It's a bit dim in here."

A light. A glow. She knew she saw it and moved toward it. She focused on that more than anything else. It didn't take long for her to run straight into the table though and she cursed quietly for her stupidity. But as she looked up and her eyes adjusted she started to see others. Her eyes drifted around and some people she recognized. One person she definitely recognized and was happy as hell to see.

"Tony!"

She moved toward him as best she could, hugging him close to her when she reached him. Something about his calm manner generally made her feel better. At least if weird stuff was going to be happening to you then have your boyfriend along for the ride, right? She was fine, physically and he seemed to be as well with her arms around him. His concern in times like this was generally for the welfare of others. Thankfully she counteracted that by being concerned for him.

"Are you ok?"

None of them seemed physically hurt, more confused by their situation. The more the light glowed she could see how they were dressed and feel that she, at least, was barefoot. It was all very bizarre. Did their voices echo? Maybe she could tell how large the room was by its acoustics. She was a theatre teacher, after all, and knew a few things about acoustics.