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Something large and undeniably metal screeched past Dr. Jannisari. The air whipped around her hips and blew tendrils of hair free from her no-nonsense bun. Everything was loud, different. Just moments ago, she had been about to head to an afternoon lecture on plagueology, her own Plague tucked into her bag. Her thin fingers reached down to pat her bag. A squirm greeted her hand; Caduceus had come along. She sighed. That couldn't be good. Suddenly, a strong hand wrapped around her arm and yanked, hard, sending her up and over the curb, onto the sidewalk. Jannisari stumbled.

"Watch it, lady! You almost got hit!" Grumbling, the young man hefted his bag over his shoulder and walked off, leaving her standing on a curb in New York City. This strange place- where was she? The lights were bright, the day filled with unfamiliar noises, and buildings stretched talked than any ladder, challenging the sky. It felt... closed-in and large and impossible. A dark head poked out of her bag. "Doctor... where are we? We're we not just in your office?" Caduceus' voice was dry and strangely timid, as usual of late, but his head whipped back and forth, eyes wide.

"Furby! Mama, look!" A child's voice shrilled out and Jannisari noticed abruptly that several people had stopped to gawk at them. The crowd- their clothes were so diiferent from hers. They held... small rectangular things in their hands. And they whispered.
"Ehhh... What is she wearing?"
"Is there a ren faire.. a convention today or something?"
"How weird. I like her shoes though."
"Wait, what is that thing?!"
Quickly, her hand darted down, pushing Caduceus' head deep under the notebook that also occupied the bag. There were no other Plagues in sight. Was this a place free of such a disease? But, the volume of people was a little overwhelming. Whirling, she pushed through the crowd. This was not Gadu. What had happened? "Do not speak, Plague," she hissed.

Think, think. Jannisari glanced up, eyes assaulted by the lights (really a string of lights floating above everything. Why?). She needed to blend in. Her clothing, as normal as it was in Gadu, marked her an outsider here, as did her Plague. However, Jannisari was loathe to abandon Caduceus; without her, he could easily infect some unwary passerby. Green leaves caught her gaze and she headed towards Central Park. A stand sold shirts nearby and she paused. Clothing of this realm would help... She fingered a shirt, the fine weave feeling strangely mechanical. It had an odd design: I <3 NY.

"You gonna buy or just stare all day? What size you needing? It's only 15 bucks a shirt for you - special price." The man winked at her. Her bag rustled. Bucks? What currency was that? "Do you take these?" She dropped a handful of shillings in his outstretched palm.
"Are you ******** with me? I only take American cash. Take your s**t tourist money to a bank. Go on, get." His tone was condescending and Jannisari felt her eyebrows arch towards her hairline. "Very well," she said, her voice dripping with haughtiness, "I will take my money elsewhere."

She turned. There was too much going on; it was a sensory overload. She pinched the bridge of her nose and ducked into the park. Instantly, the noise seemed to mute. What volume of mages did they have that such strange magic permeated everywhere? Jannisari sat heavily on a bench. The tree's shade only chilled her. She calmly began to organize her facts. A rustle broke through her concentration and Caduceus flipped her bag open. "I have procured it for you." His voice was supercillious and she almost ignored him. A rolled up shirt was laid on her thigh. I <3 NY. Jannisari's head began to pound. "Plague...." Her tone was dangerous. Nevertheless, it was true that her image needed to change. And so, she shed her robe and tugged on the shirt over her leggings. It hung low, across her thighs. Sighing, she wrapped her professorial sash around her neck. Even if she were lost, she would not look it. The robe and tunic were folded - robe left behind, tunic carefully maneuvered under Caduceus.

"Doctor, it seems as though we are not in Gadu anymore."

When Raffin looked down, it was to a sheaf of papers heaped haphazardly on his desk, notes jotted messily down on crinkled sheets of parchment that he would eventually toss aside in his impatience for answers.

When Raffin looked up again, he was no longer at his desk.

Of course, in between when he was looking down and when he looked up again, a great many things had happened; a flash of light, a strange feeling of being pulled this way and that, and then he was sitting on a hard surface that felt rough and uncomfortable beneath him. Bright, multicolored lights flashed overhead and all around; sound seemed to explode from every which way, almost deafening in its volume, a cacophony of music and talk and laughter and chatter - and there was something beside him, something moving.

Or rather, someone - Adfaer was unfurling his body, long fingers curling against the inside of his palm, the expression on his face an irritated one. Raffin watched him a little warily, seemingly oblivious to the blatant stares he was getting from those around him.

"Are you well?" Raffin asked, and the return answer was merely a grunt, Adfaer's teeth snapping together. He pushed himself to his feet, swaying a little, and Raffin followed, one hand outstretched as though to steady the Plague, although he refrained from actually touching him.

It was now that Raffin took in his surroundings, and when he did, it was quite clear that this was not his office - which he already knew, of course, but somehow it hadn't quite registered until this very moment. Raffin's eyes grew large, his mouth slightly agape; his fingers twitched, as though itching for pen and paper to start immediately taking notes on this strange and curious new place.

It took him a moment to realize that Adfaer had lumbered off.

"Wait," Raffin called, and ran after him, slightly breathless as he fell into step beside the Plague. Adfaer showed no sign of relief at this, not that Raffin had expected him to, and together the pair of them made their way down a long and crowded street that seemed to be pointing in the general direction of some area enclosed entirely by thick trees.

"What is this place?" Raffin murmured, half to himself, and Adfaer made a low hum deep in the back of his throat, his dark eyes narrowed as they came into the shade of the trees; a thankful respite from the chaos of the noisy place behind them.

The sign half tucked away that neither of them noticed read Welcome to Central Park.

He had landed in the middle of a sunny meadow, or at least, that's what it seemed like; It was filled to the brim with brightly coloured statuetes, children, stones, people and extravagant machinery. People all around him, both fathers, mothers, teens and children stared and swooned, sometimes pointing their short fingers at him, as if he belonged in a jail. Their loud voices, totally different to the ones he was used to, kept going, commenting on his appeareance, on his smell and on his height:
"Oof, they should do something about all the hobos around here..."
"Don't they get, like, you know, like, some place they can bathe...?"
"Oh, good, more terrifying hobos to give my taxes to, thanks Obama."

And even if, to them, he was the center of attention, to him, those minuscule, cleansed, sly and colorful little beings were the true freaks. What was up with their coloured faces, their short (unnecesarilly short) skirts, their clean nails and the flowery, sugary smell they all gave off? They looked human, moved like humans and spoke like humans-- but were they really his kind? Baron found himself profusely confused, and that seemed to scare some of the onlookers.
"Great, he's one of the crazy ones."

Well, it seemed they were also pretty rude. Hmpf.

He slowly stood on his feet, feeling a tad too old for all of this excitement. His back throbbed, same as his head. What sort of crazy land had he reached? Had he died? Had the souls of all those deer he had killed come back to trap him in this psychodelic world? Was this Obscuvos' doing? Was this inside Obscuvos? He had a million questions, but no answers.
He looked around once again, noticing that those curious humanoid figures weren't the only peculiar thing about that place: past the forest, on the horizon, giants stood still, all covered in mirrors. Now what in Panyma's name was that. He stood still, completely at a lose at what he was staring at. So this was Obscuvos' butt, after all.
And then he remembered.
He swirled around, patting his bags, staring at the floor. Where was the blueberry? Had he ran away? Was it okay? Had he squished him to death...?

"Heyyy um"

Baron turned around, as dumbly as ever.

"Like, uh, sir, like-- you can't be here, yea? Like, there's like children around here and like this isn't place for you to..."

Rude indeed!
"Hmpft", he grumbled loudly, staring down at the petite woman before him. The plague was nowhere to be found and, frankly, all this colorfulness was giving him a headache. The bear started walking away, somewhat hurriedly.
There had to be an exit somewhere, right...?