where do we go from here? [EVERYONE]

[ELPHIE.]

You wake up, laid out on the floor. Your head is spinning, your mind is reeling, you're not where you belong.

In a matter of seconds you have gone from what you were doing to being here, and you're not alone. What happens now, and where you go from here. Well now, that's up to you.

This is the OPENING THREAD. Everyone must post here, and can exit at anytime of their choosing to begin regular active posting. Have fun, and namaste.

[captain jack harkness]

”This is where the signal is the strongest… Ianto cover the first floor. I got the second and let me know if you find anything.” Jack gave the order, taking charge like he always does. Sure he hated being away from Ianto but they needed to cover ground fast before the Snarx Egg hatched and took a host to be its cocoon while it. The final stage of the Snarx was the most dangerous and deadliest… and it had to be stopped. In his life, he seen too many lives lost and he vowed to do whatever it took to stop them…

The stairs to the second floor were skipped as he ran up them, skipping a step with each stride he took. The tail of his jacket flying behind him as he rounded around the corner and made his way into the second floor of the office building. But before he could get far there was blinding light then nothing….

Slowly Jack’s eyes opened up as he started to come around. The first thing he noticed was the coolness of where he was laying and the second was the awful pounding in his head that was worse than the hangover he had from the Hyper Vodka the night he was suppose to be executed. A groan was given as he brought a hand up to rub his eyes, even moving hurt. It felt like a truck had down two hyper vodkas then hit him then it hit him…

Ianto…. Where was Ianto…. Was he all right… safe? What the heck happened and where was his anyways. Jack sat up, his blue eyes wide as he looked around for Ianto. He couldn’t lose his lover or see him hurt, it wasn’t something his heart could take. Ianto was the best part of him, made him feel like he was human still. The place was strange and not the office building they were at. This wasn’t good and it looked like he wasn’t along. There were a few bodies spread out but he wasn’t sure whom there where but he didn’t care about them. He needed Ianto…

Jack stood up and soon regretted that, the spinning was so much worse and he felt like he was going to pass out. His knees felt weak and his body gave out. He ended up down on the floor again. Instead of trying to stand up too fast again, he sat there on the floor for a moment. Then it hit him… the tracking devices he had slipped into the com links and into the cell phones of Ianto and Gwen. Something he used to keep an eye on them and to track them down when he needed to.

The flap of his wrist strap was opened up and he pressed a few buttons on the device to pull up the screen and program from the GPS units he had planted without his team knowing it. But it couldn’t be right, it wasn’t picking anything up and a faint growl of frustration was given. He tried a few more times before giving up and closing the leather piece back up. This time when he stood, it was better even though he still felt dizzy and the pounding pressure seemed to be worse when vertical. Those deep blue eyes of his, looked around slowly wondering if he should stay in this spot or go exploring his surroundings... Maybe ianto was else where…

[president laura roslin]

Oh frak she was dying.

At least, to President Laura Roslin, that's what it felt like. She had been standing in CIC, speaking with Admiral Adama and Colonel Tigh, and the next thing she knew she'd blacked out. They'd probably sent her to sickbay, and it's where she'd wake up in a few hours to Cottle's ever cheerful tone and the smell of cigar smoke permanently lingering in the air.

But something was . . . . off.

She didn't feel the familiar rock-hard bed of sickbay beneath her, nor the attachment of an I.V. in the back of her hand. Had they left her lying on the floor, for frak's sake? Her eyelids snapped open and Laura realized she was indeed on the floor. Just not the floor of CIC. It was a domed room, larger than CIC - it almost reminded her of the ballroom on Cloud Nine. She blinked, trying to clear her head as she sat up - a movement which she regretted almost instantly.

Her head throbbed painfully and she sat perfectly still, letting the throbbing fade. Pressing a hand to her temple, she looked around, confused and a bit lost as to where she was. Nowhere on a ship, she knew, for the familiar hum of an engine was not present. She stared at a spot on the ground, willing her head to stop pounding. When it finally did, she looked up just in time to see another man - the only other person in the general vicinity - getting to his feet.

Naturally, Laura felt defense. She was in unfamiliar surroundings, with an unfamiliar man. A cylon, perhaps? One of the final five? Or was this heaven? Had her cancer returned and she'd died and gone to heaven? Thoughts ran through her mind as inhuman speeds - at least until she managed to mediate them long enough to keep her head from hurting again.

Realizing she was still on the ground, Laura stumbled to her feet, nearly falling in the heels she still wore. She tugged out the wrinkles in the skirt of her suit, swaying on her feet as a wave of dizziness overcame her. She felt sick too - and suddenly exhausted. "Frak." She muttered, glancing sideways at the man now, watching him cautiously.

Just what the frak was going on?

[dr. rodney mckay]

Blinking through the pounding of his head and the haze of pinkness and bursting purple spots in his vision, Rodney McKay groaned loudly and rolled over onto his side in case of impending vomit. None came, so at least there was that.

His surroundings, now that his eyesight cleared up, didn't really do much to assuage his feeling of nausea, though. A dome, huge and expansive and made of some kind of strange, twisting, copper-coloured material. A raised dais against the far wall, where a lopsided pentagonal metal frame stood, thick wires protruding from it. And within the frame...

Quickly, Rodney wrenched his gaze away from it. The deep blackness, the feeling that it was this close to reaching out and drawing him in ... if he wasn't careful, he might just have to rethink the whole vomiting issue.

Struggling unsteadily to his feet -- dizziness and a bad case of dry-mouth that he'd need to complain about as soon as he located some kind of doctor making themselves readily apparent -- he tried to recall the last thing he remembered. Atlantis, that much was obvious. Things had just settled down into the calm they got after one crazy near-death experience was over, but before the next one began. He was ... working on something in his lab, a piece of Ancient technology that apparently synthesized small pieces of disgusting gum-like food supplement. And then what?

And then ... blackness.

Okay. Okay. All right. He was here now, and apparently the newest near-death experience had, in fact, begun. He could deal with that. He knew exactly how, too.

"Okay, what the hell just happened!"

[cpt. kara 'starbuck' thrace]

"Starbuck to Galactica actual, do you copy?"

That was the fifth time Kara Thrace had tried to raise anyone at all from her routine viper run. She'd spotted a bogie, and deviated course to investigate, and that's when things got interesting.

Or, uninteresting as the case may be.

She was now stuck here, in a debris field of unknown origin, and all her comms were either jammed or non-functional. She was getting odd readings coming from nearby but whatever it was, it was frakking her system all to hell.

"Galactica. Do. You. Read?" She asked again, her jaw clenched and the irritation obvious in her voice. Nothing but static came in return. Sighing, Captain Thrace slammed her helmeted head back into her seat and let out a shout of frustration.

"Motherfraking Cylons..." she spat, pressing a few buttons to try and recalibrate her systems, and still, no luck. Except...

She looked up just as there was a flash of blinding light, and that was the last thing she remembers.

---

Coming to, Starbuck could feel that she wasn't in her viper, but she was still in her viper suit, helmet and all, and whatever ground she was laying on was definitely not comfortable.

Sitting up quickly when she heard angered voices, Starbuck's hand immediately went for the gun strapped to her thigh, and within moments it was in her hand and aimed to the center of the room where several unfamiliar persons were all either waking up like her, or still presumably out cold.

Blinking rapidly to be sure she was actually seeing what she was seeing, Starbuck scowled .

"What the frak is this?" she demanded of the whole room, and then turned to the person nearest her and pointed her gun towards their head. "Where am I?"

[captain jack harkness]

As he stood there, he was pretty much lost in his own world, wanting and needing to know if Ianto was safe and unharmed… to know that Gwen was the same. He couldn’t afford to lose them. He already lost Owen and Tosh thanks to his brother and Captain John Hart being forced by his brother to carry out the plans. Jack couldn’t help it, he was protective those he cared about and loved. A part of him wondered if his vortex manipulator was behind this, if some unknown alien device came into contact and cause some strange reaction like this… But this place wasn’t anything from the 21st century… No it was much different and not his home.

The people too on the ground were different, sure they all looked human but that meant nothing to Jack. He had seen the end of Earth, been to earliest of Centauries and seen all forms and kinds of human life. These people could be aliens for all he knew… Speaking of aliens looking like humans where was the Doctor when he was needed the most? Where was he to tell Jack that it was going to be okay, that Ianto was safe as well as Earth? Where was he when Jack needed a ride back home and to know fully what was going on? Jack tried to be the hero and played one rather well when it came to Torchwood and being strong in front of those that he led…. But deep down, he wasn’t strong. There were moments of weakness, where his past haunted him, when he needed someone to be there for him.

Jack barely noticed the movement around him and voices speaking out. His eyes staring ahead, trying to figure out what his next move should be. But then he notice a gun being drawn from the corner of his eyes. So his hand went down to the old fashion World War Two holster, which held his Webley Revolver and pulled it out, point it at the female who held her gun. His left hand holding the wrist of his right hand that the gun was held in. Everything about Jack screamed World War Two from his Great Coat down to the boots in which he wore. It wasn’t the full uniform of a RAF Captain but close enough. ”Lower the gun or you might force me to take other actions.” He said in a strict tone as if giving an order.

The last thing Jack wanted to do was shoot anyone here because for all he knew, they might have to get alone and work together to get out of here but he wasn’t going to take any chances. He just hoped the other two were not armed that were awake or that anyone else would wake up pulling a stunt like this. ”Captain Jack Harkness, note the stripes and who are you?[ The last part of his question was asked in his usually flirty tone. Even in a situation like this one, Jack couldn’t help himself. His eyes glanced around rather quickly before he spoke again. "Besides, who are the rest of you?" He asked the others who were awake but still focused on the the female with the gun.

[agent olivia dunham]

The first thing Olivia Dunham sees when she wakes up? People already pointing guns at each other.

Her FBI instincts kicking in, she reached for the gun tucked in her own holster, pulling it out and clicking off the safety. She did not raise it, however, and instead kept it at the ready should the woman and man pointing guns at each other decided they wanted to blow each other's brains out.

In the meantime, however, Olivia was trying to get her bearing - on where she was, how she had gotten here, and why she was here. One sweep of the room with her gaze told her she was not in the alternate universe. It didn't remind her of anything remotely like the other side - and she knew, considering the amount of time she'd spent over there. Besides, it hadn't felt like she was crossing over. This was forced - something had pulled her through.

Had Walter come through? Astrid? . . . . Peter? She'd been leaving a crime scene with Peter and had glanced out the window of the car - then blackness. Hopefully if she went back, she wouldn't go shooting through a windshield this time. There were other people in the room that she didn't know, that she hadn't even seen before. They seemed just as confused as she was.

She looked over at the man who had asked what the hell had happened and gave a shrug. "I don't even know where we are, let alone what happened."

[president laura roslin]

More and more people were starting to come to around her as Laura stood there, clearing the fog from her mind as she took in more of her surroundings. Nothing was familiar, nothing at all, and she didn't like it. Nothing on the 12 Colonies even looked like this. And these people . . .

Something caught her attention on the other side of the room and Laura whirled, suddenly alarmed - then again, she had never been so relieves to hear Kara Thrace's voice in her entire life, or the word frak. She had apparently awakened from her own sleep and was now holding a gun to someone - who held a gun in return. There was another blonde starting to raise a gun, telling them to put the guns down. Laura just wanted to know what was going on.

"Kara?" She began, crossing toward her carefully, in case Kara - if it was Kara - suddenly turned the gun on her in surprise. Everyone appeared lost, confused, and Laura was pretty sure the same look was reflected on her face. The man pointing the gun at Kara asked who they were and Laura's lips twitched.

"I don't know who they are, but I'm Laura Roslin, President of the 12 Colonies of Kobol. I suggest you not talk to me in that tone of voice." She snapped at him. The demanding tone he had used reminded her too much of Baltar - with who she was currently trying to beat in an election. That last thing she needed was the nonsense happening right now.

"And frankly, I don't quite like the way you're pointing a gun at Miss. Thrace here, so if you'd kindly lower it before you accidentally shoot someone, it'd be much appreciated." She added, folding her arms across her chest as her glasses - which had somehow miraciously managed to stay on her face throughout the ordeal - slid down her nose to the point she was peering over them at him. "And I suggest you prove you're not a cylon before I decide to throw you out an airlock."

[dr. rodney mckay]

At that moment, being the particularly unlucky person this "Kara" had actually turned her gun on, Rodney would have been happy to revise his previous question to a heartfelt what the hell are you doing?! But aggravating the already-aggravated young lady with the firearm pointed at his oh-so-valuable brain didn't seem the wisest course of action, so Rodney kept quiet, blue eyes saucer-wide and hands raised to shoulder-height, already beginning to sweat a little. The picture of harmlessness. He was even in his labwork casuals, see? No sidearm or anything.

What he could really use right now was Ronon, who could probably disarm everyone in this room using his hair alone, but ... well. Asking a little too much of his already stingy luck, he supposed.

"Yes, yes, yes. Good idea," he agreed, as another woman spoke up, although he didn't so much as glance in her direction; his gaze was fixed solidly down the gun's barrel. "Lowering the guns, not the ... airlock. Do we need all the threatening, here? Seriously, I'm..."

He trailed off, swallowing. Announcing that he was probably smarter than anyone here might -- well, he'd never been one for people skills, put it that way. But Rodney did have an incredibly flexible survival instinct. "Just trust me, you're gonna be needing my brain where it is."

[dr. temperance "bones" brennan]

Something was not quite right here.

Last thing Dr Temperance Brennan had been aware of, she had boarded the plane to Indonesia, off to the Maluku islands to, in Angela's words, "redefine what it means to be human."

She'd been thinking about Booth while relaxing in the reclined chair. This was usual for her, thinking of Booth. Though she loathed to admit to it, upon further examination of her feelings, she was uncomfortable with the thought of the long period of time without seeing him. She'd begun to rely on his day-to-day incessant presence in her life.

Who in Maluku would pull her from the remains and make sure she ate? Who would ensure she was leaving the lab setup to sleep at normal hours of the night?

Looking around, Brennan was startled out of her thoughts by the unfamiliar surroundings. This was most definitely not the interior of a plane. Her luggage was nowhere to be found, and... Why was she wearing her Jeffersonian lab coat and identification badge?

None of this made sense. Brennan concluded she must just be dreaming on her plane. Something had caused her to become aware of her dreaming state. That was supposed to mean she could control the dream, didn't it?

Irrationally, her thoughts tried to summon Booth to be with her, to give her a "guy hug" and hold her close in the goodbye embrace they hadn't had the luxury of in the crowded airport.

But nothing happened. Hiding her disappointment, Brennan continued to study the people appearing around her. None of this was possible. Logically, she had to be dreaming. She pinched her arm in an attempt to wake herself up, but nothing happened.

What was going on?

Temperance scrambled off the uncomfortable floor, watching her surroundings carefully. More than ever, she wished Booth was here. He'd....

Incorrect. She wished she had a gun with her. Not Booth. She was going to spend a year away from him. Those irrational thoughts needed to stop.

[cpt. kara 'starbuck' thrace]

Kara wasn't sure what was happening, or who all these people are, but as soon as some frak-head in a coat pulled his gun on her, and then ]i]demanded[/i] she lower her own, that was really all the incentive she needed. She was on her feet in a flash, ripping off her helmet, leaving her short blonde hair in disarray, and began encroaching on the man with the gun, never lowering her own from being aimed at his head. "Oh yeah, pretty boy? Just try to shoot me." She said gritting her teeth and holding his gaze unwaveringly.

This had to be some kind of Cylon trick. Leoben most likely. Why else?

"Never heard of you." Kara replied in a spat to 'Jack Harkness", not wavering even slightly on the whole aiming-her-gun-at-his-head thing. When he asked who she was, she caught onto the flirting and her eyes narrowed a bit. Readjusting her grip on the gun then, she slowly licked her upper lip in attempt to keep from shooting him right then and there, but then someone said her name.

Turning her head for only a moment so as not to let her guard down, Kara's frown deepened at the sight of one Laura Roslin. "President Roslin?" She muttered under her breath, obviously a bit confused. Looking around the room again, she ignored all the protesters and onlookers, her eyes mainly scanning for any sign of anyone else she knew. Lee, the admiral, Sam...

Nothing.

Looking back at Jack, Kara raised her gun a little higher. "There's really only one way to know if he's a Cylon, Sir," she said to Roslin her wild gaze still locked onto Jack's, and she took a step closer with her gun still aimed between his eyes.

[captain jack harkness]

Jack had no idea who these people were or what right they had to tell him to lower his gun. If this had been the ‘old’ Jack, the Jack that had yet to meet the Doctor or become the coward hiding during the Blitz then Jack may have shot first and asked questions later. But in there here and now, he had no real reason to shoot anyone but he wasn’t going to lower his gun because the last thing he needed was to be off guard when the bullets started to fly. ”Pretty boy, huh? Been called that one before.” He said, Jack had been called many names over the years but Pretty boy wasn’t one of his favorites but right now, he wasn’t going to say or show other wise.

His blue eyes glanced over at the other female who made her way over and spoke up about being some kind of President. ”Never heard of the Colonies of Kobol. Seeing how this clearly isn’t your precious little Colonies, then your rank has no meaning or pull here, Laura.” Jack said before turning his attention back to the one who was referred to as Kara. Jack had been listening to the others around him but right now, his attention needed to be on this situation and not on the others. There would be a time and place to deal with them. His position and posture never wavering or backing down even as this Kara person said she never heard of him. ”Trust me after one night, you won’t forget me.” Jack smirked, unable to help himself.

He was a flirt and nothing ever was going to change that, even when he had a gun pointed at him. There was no fear for him because he knew he would die but that he would come back. Death was not something that applied or worked well with Jack. No matter how many times he had tried to or others had tried to kill him, he always came back. He wasn’t sure why or what he was anymore but all he knew that he was the man who couldn’t stay dead. ”What the heck is a Cylon, anything like a Delak? Because if that is the case then we are all dead.” Delaks were something Jack feared, one of the only things he feared. It wasn’t because of his life that he feared them but because he knew that they killed without a second though and for that, he was afraid for the lives around him.

His eyes narrowed as she took a step closer and kept the gun trained on his head. His gun aimed at her head. Sure his gun was old and could have been thought of a relic from World War Two but it was still deadly and often times more dangerous than some of the more modern firearms from the 21st century. ”Go on, kill me if that is what you wish to do.” Jack hated dying; he hated how it felt coming back from death. How it always ruined his clothing but it wasn’t something that he wanted to do but if this women felt like killing him then there wasn’t much he could do.

[president laura roslin]

Oh, so the frakker wanted to play that game?

"I don't believe we're on first name basis, Mr. Harkness, so I'd suggest you call me by title, Ms. Roslin, or 'ma'am'." She ground out. He seemed to be more annoying than Baltar - she'd happily tolerate that frak-weasel if it meant getting rid of this stranger, who appeared to have no manners of any kind - otherwise he would have addressed her as 'Madame President' in any universe she was in.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she attempted to keep her temper in check. She'd already been having a hell of a bad day, and it was getting steadily worse. Perhaps this was all some hallucination - effects of the half cylon blood coursing through her body, perhaps. Laura wanted out of it, whether it be hallucination, vision, dream, or nightmare, and now.

"Perhaps you're right, Kara. There is only one way to tell for sure." She said smoothly, not breaking her gaze away from this Harkness fellow. Something in her mind, however, was telling her that he was not a cylon. Just an annoying creep that needed to be taught manners and a few other things he obviously lacked.

He said to kill him. Ha. If only he knew that Kara would probably happily do it. "Cylons are creatures that you could only imagine in your nightmares, Mr. Harkness. You'd best pray to the Gods that you never meet one." She continued, a frown playing at her lips now. Either he wasn't a cylon, or he was playing stupid. Or perhaps his programming had not kicked in yet.

"I would suggest extreme interrogation, but we tried that once so I doubt it'll work. Captain Thrace, whether you wanted or needed it, I do give my permission to - how would the Admiral say? - blow his frakken head off?" She mused, steely gaze flickering between the pair with the guns drawn. She really wasn't even paying attention to the others around them now, too focused on Harkness and Kara.

[director j'onn j'onzz]

In the space between which Kara and Jack aimed at each other, the air began to waver, like the heat rising off of the road on a hot summer day. In only a moment, the visual disruption formed into a complete shape, one of a man to be precise...and what a man it was. At 6'4" and 230 pounds in his human form, John Jones easily stood above the rest of those present in the room, even the two males, which spoke more than enough for his imposing stature. His left arm was up to show that he posed no threat, while his right arm was extended, clearly holding something.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Detective John Jones of the Metropolis Police Department." His gravely voice was calm and firm, completely in control and not at all frightened that two weapons were aimed on either side of him. In his outstretched hand was an open wallet, revealing his badge and identification, and he slowly circled around, showing it to both of the pistol wielders as well as the others that were present.

His brown hair was well kept, even if the rest of his attire wasn't. A navy blue leather jacket extended down past his rear, worn over a buttoned-up green shirt and a pair of blue jeans. What was most noteworthy about the attire was the fact that it was covered in patches of grime and soot, as if he had just escaped a burning building - and he had.

"Watchtower, this is Manhunter. What's the location of Arrow?" John spoke into the earpiece as he flew toward a burning apartment building. "Arrow is fighting infected in Centennial Park." A hum. "Superman?" The voice immediately shot back: "Busy with infected Injustice Gangers in Suicide Slum." Great. There was a burning building filled with people, and the Last Son of Mars couldn't do anything.

Starro the Conquerer had arrived in Metropolis - a giant, starfish-shaped alien invader. With its use of spores, Starro had began mind controlling the citizens of Metropolis, even some heroes and villains, and it was up to the Justice League to stop it. In the chaos of the invasion, an apartment building had caught fire, which was where the Martian Manhunter now hovered. A telepathic ping revealed just one mind left in the building, and x-ray vision confirmed it: a small Asian child, cowering in a flaming apartment.

The Martian-in-human-guise grimaced, knowing what he had to do. Taking a few deep breaths, he plunged into the building through a window, shattering through the glass. Immediately his pyrophobia began to take over, feeling his own self-control weakening as he moved deeper into the bulding. His caucasian skin tone began to fade into its natural green, his irises grew red, and his flesh began to bubble and sag as he lost control of his molecular structure. By the time he reached the child, his arms appeared closer to tentacles, and he knew his appearance certainly frightened her.

"It's alright, child. I'm here to help you." The five-year-old hesitated before she took his good hand, allowing John to hold onto her as he leaped through the engulfing flames and out of the window. He landed on his back on the street below, unable to fly, though he cushioned the fall with his own body, ensuring that the child was unharmed as she was taken in by waiting rescue services. In his blurring vision, he could see his teammates on the horizon, specifically the red blur of The Flash and the black cape of Batman swinging through the air. Though they were mere blocks away, he could wait no longer, and the Martian succumbed to unconsciousness, just as a flash of light appeared before his eyes.

When he awoke, John was laying on a cool, clean floor. Some distance away, a small group was yelling at each other, and he could make out the shape of guns. Thankfully, his subconscious had maintained his human form as he slept, and it was easy for him to shift into invisibility, allowing him to sneak up on the group.

"Now, I don't know what a Cylon is, or a Dalek. But I can assure you that all of you are human." Telepathy, the human scent, the beat of human hearts - all of them were human, or at least close enough to it. "You're all just as confused as I am, I know this. That is why we need to think with logic and understanding and figure out where we are instead of shooting off with inane human emotion." Throughout his small speech, his voice remained flat and calm, almost inhumanly. Combined with the invisibility trick and his references to them being human, it was enough to give more than a hint that he himself didn't belong to the race.

[agent olivia dunham]

Olivia watched as a man appeared from thin air between the two holding weapons at each other, frowning. It lookd like he had just crossed from the other side. The other universe. But that wasn't possible - only certain people like her could do it, and she'd never seen him before. Unless he was a shapeshifter . . . which she highly doubted.

But if people were introducing themselves . . . .

Lowering her gun and stepping forward, she withdrew a badge.

"Agent Olivia Dunham, FBI. I would suggest both of you lower your weapons and we try to figure this whole situation out." She said slowly and carefully, eying all of them, waiting for the single twitch of movement that would tell her someone was about to shoot. Her finger remained on the trigger of her own gun at her side - it was more of protection than anything. She wouldn't go shooting people just because she could, like these two appeared to be doing.

"No one knows what this place is or why we're here, and we're not doing each other any good by arguing about it or trying to kill each other." She added, hoping it would help at least a little bit more. "