8440/Into the Zone: Great Falls

Into the Zone: Great Falls
Date of Scene:	06 November 2021
Location:	Great Falls on the Potomac
Synopsis:	A rescue team of SHIELD agents enter an area of anomalous red fog on the Potomac River. Inside, the rules of time and space need not apply. This time, at least, everyone makes it out unscathed... except for their quinjet pilot.
Cast of Characters:	Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Cael Becker, Jessica Drew, Sara Pezzini, Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims, Jane Foster

---

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Great Falls is the shorthand name for a stretch of the Potomac river that separates Maryland and Virginia with several notable waterfalls and rapids. It's late in the year for kayaking and whitewater rafting, but there are still a good amount of industrious folk--mostly locals who think late fall temperatures are perfectly pleasant and not practically freezing--hiking the trails and enjoying the scenic views.

    The usual roar of the massive waterfall that straddles the state lines is quieted. Olmsted Island, in the middle of the river, has been swallowed up by a blood-tinged fog that rolls across the turbulent waters on a glacially slow encroach towards the main overlook point on the Virginia side.

    It's there that a temporary SHIELD encampment has been set up. Monitoring equipment is aimed at the anomaly, while agents work to cordone off the area before any more civilians are trapped within it.

    "The borders aren't regular," is what kicks of Agent Wilson's report as he touches down from an aerial survey. A series of quick beeps announces Redwing's arrival soon after, and the drone hovers in midair at Sam's shoulder. From beneath the drone's underbelly, a small flicker of laser-light erupts into a beam pointing at the ground, and a few seconds later it has expanded to a holographic map of the area.

    A tinge of red marks the stretch of the anomalous area across the island and well into mainland Maryland, eclipsing the visitor center and the start of Billy Goat Trail, which is the main access route for Great Falls. "We were able to track life signs of the people trapped inside, but only intermittently. Might have something to do with all of the interference we're getting."

    From within a tent that has been erected to protect some of the equipment from the river's spray, one of the SHIELD scientists emerge. "So far, our measurements clock the fog's spread at a maximum rate of 0.34 kilometers per hour. We'll have to move base camp by midnight if this keeps up," she says as she consults a tablet in her hand. "Our sensors don't detect any harmful radiation, biological pathogens, or chemicals, but we're still recommending the rescue team go in with rebreathers and backup oxygen."

    There are, of course, supply crates nearby with the necessary gear ready to be equipped.

    "I'll remain on overwatch above the fog," Agent Wilson says. "With Redwing's help, I might be able to act as a relay to keep communications up while you're all inside."

    Nearby, a Quinjet idles, ready to drop the team into the fog.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Captain America is, of course, here for this. It's been a minute since Steve has gone out to do the hero thing, and he needs to stretch his legs.

In the tent, he looks over the readouts that he only vaguely understands. Indeed, he only vaguely cares about them. What he cares about are the people stuck in the miasma, and the fact that they need to be rescued. He makes his preparations, strapping a small oxygen tank to his belt, snagging himself a rebreather which gets shoved in a pouch, and checks his sidearm. "Thanks, Sam. We've got this. If you can, keep us in the loop of anything extra weird that you folks out here pick up on."

Only then does he make his way to the Quinjet.

Inside the jet, Steve straps his helmet on and checks the mooring of the shield on his back. He's ready to go.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael listens to Sam's debriefing - even as she's getting ready for the mission, checking her weapons, and securing them and ammo clips into place on her armor. She studies the holographic display from the bird-drone with a critical eye for a moments, before moving to get the required safety equipment. Honestly, compared to the weight of wearing Sam's wings just the other morning? All the oxygen, and rebreathers and the like doesn't amount to much. "So we go in, try to get people out, and try to figure out what's causing this?" she remarks.
    "Maybe we should all grab extra rebreathers for the people in there - in case we do run into breathing trouble?" She looks for confirmation before grabbing some extra equipment, and making her way to the Quinjet herself, her features set into determined lines.

Jessica Drew has posed:
There are not many poisons that can affect Jessica long-term; short-term she can sneeze, cough or spit out ingested toxins but she'll wear a re-breather, too. She is perched high on a sun-warmed granite rock overlooking a treacherous set of rapids pouring high speed down the river, dressed in black tactical gear, a small box lunch set next to her. Crossed legged, she munches on a sandwich, listening to Wilson's reports over com. She finishes her impromptu lunch quickly, gathers up the backback laying next to her and jumps off the rock to make her way to the Quinjet.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Preparation for Sara was the easiest thing in the world. First the call that she was needed, followed by arriving on site, and right into stripping out of her clothing in some location with or without people (all dependent on what is available) and then Witchblade goes to work. Tendrils of metal form the armor, helmet and mask, encasing her entire body. In this case, the only addition would be a rebreather if Witchblade would allow it.

Listening to the briefing, she looks over the offered map a few times, taking in the angles and the way the fog was moving. "I can tell you there is no magic at work here," she offers to the group, collecting that rebreather. "I can also tell you that Witchblade may destroy this rebreather, please don't take it out of my salary."

With the briefing done, and her information shared, she heads to the Quinjet with Cael, but adds to anyone listening, "I'll remain at the ready for call in while Falcon has over watch. I can get to you quickly, just call me if you need back up or extraction."

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin is quiet as he studies the map. He too is dressed in tactical gear with an added rebreather. He had read the reports. "It's moving independently. Against the natural wind?" he asks quietly. He nods at Cael's assessment of the mission.

    "We can see how my magic works with it, but I might be able to create small, selectively permeable fields of safety around individuals if other team members can get them out." He checks his belt, holding a single sidearm and a few spare clips, before giving a nod to his husband and nodding. "Only one way to find out, really" he mutters as he turns and heads for the jet. "Let's get to it."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's geared up, not that there's much 'gear' to be had. He's a mystical sort, and a rookie, so he has a single weapon and extra clips, and otherwise standard SHIELD gear. He's quiet, a serious sort of quiet, in a way he hasn't been for other missions. Something about this weighs heavy on him, maybe that there are already civilians trapped inside.

    He's taken a long moment to open his Sight and stare down at the fog, making sure he's seen everything he can before he reports, "If it's mystical in any fashion it's not obviously so. I'll keep my Sight open to scan for people or... other mental signatures, anyhow." He's a walking lifeform detector, among other things.

    Besides. The Archivist is curious.

Jane Foster has posed:
Truth be told Jane is probably one of those people who finds the weather perfectly chilly already. Nothing that wearing a good Patagonia jacket won't fix -- yes, she is utterly one of /those/ people who swears by Patagonia, Arc'teryx, and a proper bottle of Fat Tire. A rebreather makes a nice addition to her tactical ensemble, one taken without question as she thumbs-up at Cael. "Good questions."

The astrophysicist carries her usual assortment of gear that borders on bleeding edge, sensors and stakes carefully bundled into cases. Not everyone gets cool stuff like Redwing but she checks them over after getting in the Quinjet. Like the other non-combat sorts, she isn't heavily armed or armoured.

The silent celestial relic on her wrist has opinions it keeps largely to itself. Mocking the mist with a dark 'ha ha' is probably among them. "I can manage spot removal of the mist by creating small bridges, though it's best thought of as a bathtub drain. You don't want to stand atop them."

Because black holes.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "That's the idea," Sam says to Cael. As the group finishes their perusals of the map, Redwing beeps at them and lifts the front of its drone body upwards slightly, almost like it's waving, before it turns away and docks back into the wingpack. The jet engines start to spin up, and Sam offers Cap a casual salute just before he takes off.

    One of the other scientists in the area assists Agent Becker in loading some extra rebreathers and tanks into the quinjet. There isn't yet a definite headcount of the civilians trapped inside the fog. Right now, SHIELD analysts back at the Triskelion are combing through social media for mentions of planned outings to Great Falls today.

    It's not a pointless endeavour. After all, lots of people broadcast their entire lives on the internet.

    The scientist--her SHIELD badge reads Dr. Sheppard--makes a few notes into her tablet with a stylus as both Agents Pezzini and Sims confirm no detectable magical or mystical elements at play, here. "Yes," she says to Agent Blackwood. "And only in certain areas. Best we can tell, it's entirely random. Sometimes it lurches forward a few centimeters, but then it'll pull back to its former position."

    Dr. Sheppard nods to Dr. Foster as she heads out. Like acknowledging like, plus an additional bit of respect for a scientist willing to go out into the field. "Please let us know if any of your attempts to affect the fog are successful." That is aimed at both Jane and Martin. Any opportunity for information, they'll take it.

    Aboard the quinjet, the pilot stops drumming his fingers against the dash to watch everyone file in. Captain America gets the biggest jaw-drop, naturally, but he gathers himself up to wave as Agents Becker, Drew, and then the rest join. "Strap in, everyone!" he calls out.

    The quinjet's engines hum as it lifts off, climbing into the sky in a nice, smooth ride. The pilot hums something under his breath, foot tapping as he steers the aircraft over the fog, which glowers crimson menacingly across the churning waters. "We've identified a spot near the visitor's center with enough clearance," he says. "I'm going to hover as close as I can to the ground without hitting the fog and open the cargo door. Then I'll be in the air with Agent Falcon, ready to extract as needed!"

    The fog shimmers darkly.

    And then it lurches, like Dr. Sheppard mentioned it's done before. But this time it's not by centimeters, it's by meters, like a belch of blood red mist that reaches up into the sky towards the quinjet.

    Alarms begin to blare inside the cockpit. The onboard lights flicker. A haze of red passes across everyone's vision, and then all goes dark.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    It's... later? Earlier? The sky is painted in shades of scarlet, like the sunrise on a distant planet. The air is cool, as is the dirt and foliage underfoot.

    The earthen, damp smell is less than it ought to be, somehow. Leaves rustle in the wind without a sound. Where is the quinjet?

    Where is everyone?

Steve Rogers has posed:
Everything seems fine at the start. Steve tips a hat to the star-struck pilot before he straps in. His body language is relaxed and calm, hopefully reassuring to the fresher agents. Honestly, hopefully to everyone. This should be a fairly easy trip. No HYDRA shooting at them, no superpowered lunatic attempting to murder everyone. Just a little jaunt into a mysterious fog.

Then it all goes to hell.

The alarms start to go, Steve starts to try and take charge, but by the time he can react, even he blacks out. The next thing he knows, he's in a heap on the ground. He groans, shaking it off as he gets to his feet, looking around. He tests his comms, but assumes the worst. "Hello?" He shouts. "Can anyone hear me?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    Sara, and then Martin mention magic - and Cael keeps her mouth shut. She doesn't even shoot them a skeptical look. She even- my God, she even nods an acknowledgement. Look, just don't make a thing of it, okay?
    With the breathers loaded, she settles into a seat for the ride, breathing slowly and evenly - until she feels the Quinjet lurch as the pilot tries to respond to the mist - too late. She reaches for the buckles holder her into her seat trying to free herself and then-
    Shit. Cael finds herself sitting under a tree - with an ICER in one hand? What the fuck? She checks the cartridge - she hadn't fired it. Not unless she went through a full clip. ...she checks her clips as she tries out the comms. <<"Witchblade? Cap? Does anybody copy? Sims?">> Yup. Still trying to look out for the newbie.
    She climbs back to her feet as she's talking, moving through the red, mist, searching for shapes - and belatedly realizing she hadn't put in her rebreather before whatever... happened. Had happened.
    Shit.
    She quickly corrects that oversight, while wondering if it mattered at all, at this point. Better safe than sorry, really.
    <<"Cap. Hey, you know comms are a thing, right?">> Cael remarks - glad to hear another voice.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
As the alarm starts to blare, Sara has just long enough to turn toward the pilot and the next thing she knows, she's hanging from a tree by the wings of the Witchblade. Whatever it was that caused this sudden change from Quinjet to tree had managed to anger Witchblade enough that instead of the ground, she was just hanging there. When her eyes open and she sees the ground below, she had to take a moment to reign in that sudden rush of anger that washes over her. It's not her own.

Folding the wings, she easily drops to the ground and looks around. Where was everyone else?

<"I'm here, Cael... Captain... you two alright?"> She finally says, trying to get some kind of baring. <"Falcon? Sims. Blackwood?">

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica is alertly on automatic strapping into her seat. Quinjet= Another mission. Does she blackout? There is a vague memory of alarms and the jet tilting sideways.

The spider mutant wakes, spiraling slowly in an eddy of red air, suspended from the grey branches of a sugar maple wearing its last autumn colors. She must have webbed herself while falling, an unconscious response to danger. Below her, the pack she was carrying lays spilled open, and not far from it a rebreather.

Voices echo oddly in the woods, seeming more distant than they are. <<"Drew here. Well, up here. Who is taking headcount?">>

She levers back her wrist and whips a slender thread that doesn't look like it could support her weight to the branch she hangs from but could carry a tank to lower herself to the ground. Then sets off to find the others.

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin was already on edge. It was only the second mission he had been on with his husband, and the first official one so there was bound to be apprehension. He had been looking out the window of the quinjet and saw the fog lurch forward of its own accord. The blaring alarms and sudden loss of consciousness were only moments after. Had he lost consciousness? Usually that came with other side effects. Something to ponder after they were all safe and accounted for.

    <<I'm here...>> he says picking himself up from the pile he was in on the ground. He quickly slips on his rebreather. He is more than aware that some toxins have delayed effects and long term exposure would be bad. <<I'd almost say this fog has a consciousness given the reaction to the quinjet.>> He pauses and looks around. <<Can't see anybody. J--Sims? Foster? Wilson?>>

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    One moment, Jon's reflexively closing his eyes against the alarms and flickering lights in the quinjet, trying to remember the proper procedure for reacting to a crash. The next, he's opening them on a muted landscape with a red sky, on hands and knees in a copse of trees without a scratch. There's a moment where, entirely reasonably, he wonders if he's dead. Maybe the quinjet crashed and he's dead, and this is the afterlife. Was this Duat? Red sky, muted landscape? It... /could/ be the underworld.

    But then the others are calling out over comms. He pushes himself to his feet as they talk, dusting off his hands. Once he hears Martin's voice, he closes his eyes again, takes in a shuddering breath. <<"Sims here.">> Oh, he didn't put his rebreather in either. He fumbles for it, putting it on before he says, <<"Uninjured, and... my memory's fuzzy.">> He says that in a shocked tone, and it makes him stop in the action of looking around for the others.

    <<"My memory's fuzzy. My memory's never...">> He takes in a slow breath through the rebreather. He's shaking. Swallows. Then he starts in the direction he hear Captain America shouting from, because he's in charge.

    As he walks, he reports, <<"I have vague memories of being transported from the quinjet down here, but they... don't make any sense. Tree branches bending out of my way, I think I /phased through/ the qunjet... it's like physics just... stopped working properly.">> He swallows. <<"Not magic. But not... understand that I remember /everything/ with perfect clarity. I have been blackout drunk and remembered every moment the next day. But this is... vague and fuzzy.">> Clearly the fact bothers him, deeply.

Jane Foster has posed:
Jane usually comes equipped with various scanners and sensors; today is no different. Queueing up the tablet that hates her, requiring manual password entry because to hell with fingerprint and optical matters, she takes readings of the surroundings and sends several notes to the ground-based SHIELD crew and Dr. Sheppard. <Have you analysed the dewpoint and condensation point of the mist? Is it purely reactive or have you determine it is responsive to stimuli?> Other questions follow as she examines the data, overlaying the most aggressive advances compared to last known trails, huts and the visitor centre or parking lot, and other population data.

Then the timeline jumps.

<<Drew? Cap? Status on you two?>> The first thing she checks isn't her phone, tablet or self. <<Blackwood, stay put if you don't have clear line of sight. Can you see Sims?>> It's them, the living, as the images come together. It might be better if they haven't.

She hangs from an ash tree. Golden leaves tumble from the battered branches around her, advancing in a pretty swirl with the ground so many feet below. A tiny version of the behemoth she hung from for not Odin's nine days and nights but //months//. Dying every damn time as those lifetimes rush through and vibrate as the woman cautiously reaches for her throat.

No noose. Just a whipped branch hooked into her Patagonia coat. Thankfully that lifetime warranty is going to come into use as she stares into the abyss, trying not to scream in furious defiance. The shards of an enchanted hammer on her wrist awake. It's by her definitions a very short drop. Only about sixty feet, nothing too precarious. A very different woman hits the ground and buckles forward, brow pressed to the leaf-strewn ground. No one hear that ragged gasp. Really. Oh; but they probably do, after the thud.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Steve's shouting, which everyone should be able to hear given their relative proximity to one another--mostly out of sight, due to the density of the trees and undergrowth, but within meters of one another--echoes strangely. And right there between the words "Hello" and "Can" it sounds like he's made a leap of at least a half dozen meters backwards. Cap being able to do that probably wouldn't surprise anyone, but given he's standing still, it's strange.

    And by the end of it, it sounds like he's returned to his previous location nearby.

    Thankfully this auditory anomaly doesn't affect the comms. It requires something of a strain to hear everyone above the static, but at least it's a means of coordinating the team's swift reunion.

    There's no word from Falcon up above, and no sight of him in the sky, either. Actually... there's nothing in the sky. No SHIELD drones scanning, no quinjet, no clouds, no sun.

    And yet the area is perfectly illuminated as if midday, despite the way everything is shaded red like they're all wearing rose-tinted glasses.

    As Agent Drew's feet hit the ground, all of the leaves from the tree she'd been previously suspended from begin to fall, at once. And they drop straight down, as if there's no air to buoy them about. Something like the reverse happens to the tree Dr. Foster hangs from, though much less dramatically. The leaves fall upwards, slowly reattaching to where they were once affixed to the branches.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Cap switches to comms, idly wishing he'd listened to Tony and Bruce about getting his gear upgraded. He always assumes it'll be fine, but he should know by now it never is. He sighs a bit. <<I don't have visual on any of you. Or anything but these trees. I'm glad everyone is okay, though.>>

Jane's drop is loud, but given the weird acoustics, her location might not be where the noise came from. Still, he heads that way. Her drop was the loudest and she isn't a spider person.

Cael Becker has posed:
    <<"Hey, Sims? ...breathe, buddy. Everyone have their rebreathers on - on that note?">> Cael asks into her comms, looking around through the strange mist - and trying to track in on Steve's location. What she wants to say - and doesn't - is that if Sims recalls everything, he wasn't //blackout// drunk, despite his BAC.
    <<"Witchblade - can you fly up and out of this? Give us an aerial view? Maybe find out what happened to Falcon, and our pilot? Anyone have eyes on the Quinjet? Let's see if the rest of us can triangulate in on the Man with a Plan.">> Nope, Steve is never living that shit down.
    He probably knows that already, though.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jane's voice is the seeming closest to her in the fog. How had they gotten so separated? During the fall? A memory of the jet just dissolving under comes unbidden. Jane shakes her head to clear it.

"Jane. Agent Foster!" she calls aloud, this time not over comms. Again, super senses should lead her to the scientist. Rebreather and pack in hand, Drew goes toward the figure she sees through the trees.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
There isn't much to be seen, no matter how good her eyes might be, the fog obscures but more than that, is alters even the way sound moves. Thankfully through the static of the comms, they could still comminicate.

<"On it."> Sara replies, then spreads wings and lifts herself into the air slowly. Given everything that occurred she's not about to go full speed until she can be certain she's not going to hit some kind of invisible wall.

At first the progress is slow but steady, rising up to the range of the tallest tree near her. If she wasn't watching the trees however, she would have truly believed she was still going up, it /felt/ like she was still lifting herself higher and higher but her line of sight stayed right on the top of those trees.

<"Houstin, we have a problem," she states plainly, still attempting to rise higher, feeling like she is, but going no where. "I cannot get above the top of the trees, however..."> And this is when she proceeds to start giving exact details of where each person is located, in the trees, from each other, including directions and distance.

<"If I had to guess, I would say that we're somewhere on the south end, near Overlook point, but I see no signs of Falcon, and I've reached my height limit.">

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin blinks at the mention of Jon not having any clear memory of what transpired between quinjet and this landscape. <<That's.... not good>> he says over comms as Sara relays more issues with the world they find themselves in.

    <<Another dimension maybe?>> he presumes as he looks up and wanders a bit towards a coast that would give him clear view of Overlook Point and Virginia. <<Ummm... guys, another point of note. Virginia isn't that far away is it?>> he says, as he looks out over an expanse of more water than should be there. The SHIELD camp is also not visible from their perspective. <<No sign of the camp either.>>

    He starts making his way back inland at Sara's coordination. Naturally, he goes toward's Jonathan and upon noticing his silohette, breaks into a run at the sight of his husband. "You're safe? Unhurt?" he says, directly. Even at this proximity the sound is augmented, sounding as if it comes from different directions than from the man direclty before Jon.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon /really/ didn't want to do this, he's been actively avoiding it, but the situation calls for calm--and besides, this is something none of his ancestors ever encountered. So he takes those breaths Cael suggested, and when he speaks again his voice is firmer, less shaky, a little lower in tone. <<"I cannot sense Falcon's mind. There are scattered civilian minds, but they are... wrong. Slow thoughts, animalistic thoughts, some have static overlaying them. I can sense the pilot, but he's just broadcasting a mayday signal on repeat.">>

    He turns as Martin approaches, and Martin's never seen /The Archivist/ before. Not that he looks /different/ per se, but his posture is more upright, and rather than run to hug his husband he looks him over and nods, though he does sigh with relief. "I said I was fine, Ma--Agent Blackwood." There's an odd humming static overlaying his words, as if something's getting in the way of the audio. As if he's speaking over comms despite being right there. He turns and points. "I think the others are converging on Dr. Foster. She's the brightest of us, even if..." He frowns. "This place is /odd/." Understatement of the week.

Jane Foster has posed:
The woman on the ground gathers herself beneath the tall ash snag-tree, gathering her wits about her. Earth under her brow and her spread fingers gives solidity needed to center herself, albeit with difficulty. Pulling herself back together means shedding the Asgardian divinity around her like a second skin, once more a naked soul prostrate on her knees. The rebreather reappears when the armour dissipated back into a very boring little bracelet. She rocks back and stares up to the leaf-shorn boughs. Not normal.

<<I'm fine. I cannot be sure how we ended up here, which bears examination. Are we all suffering from memory loss?>> Jane says. Patting about the backpack delivers a stake, and fiddling with the sensor to detect for anomalies might be successful. Jess or Steve are sure to discover her still kneeling as she works. With the Spider far the easier spotted in some ways, she eventually gives a weary lift of her hand. Sara's instructions are plenty valuable. <<I can start plotting all our locations if we need. Taking into account the height level, do you believe it acts like a dome or a cube? I've begun taking readings to see whether we are dealing with any known range of natural variations before considering the more exciting scientific alternatives.>>

Damn well, everything will be normal. Martin intends to be normal, the Archivist pulls out the stops to maintain logic, then she can rise to the occasion and start analyzing the situation. <<The interference with their thoughts sounds concerning. Is there a normal emotional range present or is this suggestive of a deterioration of higher mental faculties?>> She can speak telepath, hopefully.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    As it turns out, Agent Pezzini ends up being overwatch. With Falcon nowhere to be seen, she's the closest thing to an eye in the sky that the team has at the moment, even though she's not all that high up into the sky at the moment.

    Still, she can see through the trees to some degree, and she's just in time to witness the quinjet streaking through the air. Over comms, everyone will hear what Agent Sims has just mentioned receiving from the pilot's mind: "<<Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Quebec Juliet Alpha Niner Foxtrot, I have lost engine power.>>"

    It repeats. The voice is definitely their pilot's, panicked, but also with a strange, almost robotic cadence. And Sara will soon realize the quinjet is both gaining speed and aimed right at her.

    Her directions will certainly have helped people navigate to one another in the meantime, though. Both Cap and Jessica find a break in a line of ash trees at just about the same time, both following the sound of Jane's landing to a spot that... is very much lacking any sighting of Dr. Foster. There's little more than a tumble of rocks across the ground separating them, but if they try to walk towards each other they only seem to move further apart.

    They'll also note a strange art installation of branches woven together with moss and flowering plants growing within it on a nearby rock, shaped almost as if it's peering over the edge of its perch into the water rushing past it below.

    There's a bridge just beyond where Steve and Jessica have encountered one another, and it's just before that bridge, on a natural path, that Martin and Jonathan reunite. The bridge leads up onto the scenic overlook of Olmsted Island. The jut of a large boulder sits at its center, with the overlook's deck built around it, and a clearer view of the Virginia coast beyond.

    Clearer because it's a hell of a lot closer than it was when Martin glimpsed it last. And the SHIELD camp isn't on the overlook like it should be. Instead it's just two figures that they can see, one tall and one short. They're wearing SHIELD uniforms, and talking to each other.

    Back in the rocky clearing, Jane's equipment reacts with the same general confusion that most everyone has experienced at least a moment of since their arrival within the fog. The GPS thinks they're 100 feet underground at first, and then 1000 feet in the air the next. Also they're in New Jersey, which has to be some kind of cosmic joke.

    Probably most notable to Jane is the complete lack of radiation, to the point that even the cosmic background radiation that should be detectable... well, everywhere. Maybe also notable is that neither Jess nor Steve return her wave. In fact, they don't even seem to notice her.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Cael will be able to see the quinjet, too, from where she's standing. Just a view of it from below as it falls across the sky, only for a brief moment, but enough to identify it as the one they flew in on. And as her head is tipped upwards, she'll feel something skitter between her legs. Furry.

    It chitters as it hides in some underbrush, and then two glowing eyes peer out at her.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve frowns slightly as he makes it to the spot where Jane should be. "This is weird," he says as Jessica meets with him. "I don't like this." Steve is a genius. Clearly.

His gaze sweeps around, trying to find Jane, or anyone else, really. His discomfort is blatant, especially when he reaches behind him to grab his shield and mount it on his arm. "I'm out of my element, here." He just does what he does best. He stays calm, stands tall and projects an aura of confidence and quiet strength. "What do you think, Agent Drew? Where's Doctor Foster at? Hell, where are we at?"

It's about then that Steve notices the woven branches and breaks off to take a closer look at it, peering first at it, and then over the side of the rock to see what it seems to be looking at.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Shit," Cael mutters as Sara delivers her report - and as she watches the Quinjet's distressed flight. <<"Witchblade, is there anything you can do to help the pilot?">> What would happen if that thing crashed? Would they be trapped in here - with a potential forest fire? Would any civilians be in way of the crash? Frustrated as she may be, though, there's nothing she can do to deal with the Quinjet. Not without a pair of wi- WHAT THE SHIT IS THAT?!
    Startled, she jumps back from the thing that brushes against her, and watch it dive into cover. Cautiously, she peers down at the creature. Probably just... a rabbit or a squirrel or something. ...right?

Jessica Drew has posed:
Three steps from the tree where she hung, an alarm shivers up Jessica's spine. Heart hammering, it's all she can do not to scream, "Watch out! We are all going to die!"Certain, they are ground zero the biggest bomb on earth.!

She staggers a few steps, taking deep breaths of the red air, rebreather forgotten. Wait....no honestly. It's normal to feel cautious and alert. Her heart thuds back to normal.

A few more steps and she can't find Jane. No Jane! What?

Their pilot's voice explodes in her super sensitive ears. Head craned back, searching for the plane. Strange out-of-sync confirmation of impending doom.

Then, through the gloom, a most welcome sight, "Cap! Where is everybody? Where is the plane?"

The alarm spikes again and she leans against a tree, dry-heaving.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
<"Foster, there is no determining size or shape."> Sara replies as she turns slowly above the forest, surveying the area as best she can. The haze went on forever in every direction she looked. <"It's literally as if it is everywhere, as far as the eye can see, in every direction.">

As she turns however, and hears Cael speaking about the pilot... yep, that's a quinjet in a mayday situation alright, there's no doubt about it. It is crashing right at her! There was no time for thinking or answers to Cael however, because as it continues it's obviously 'crashing toward the ground' trajectory that she happens to be in the line of, she moves to reach out and grab it. If she can get her hands on it she has the strength to bring it safely to the ground.

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin frowns at Jon's 'transformation.' It's not a physical change, but it's a change all the same. "I... understand..." he says hesitantly. Then he notices the two figures across the bridge. <<We have survi-->> he cuts off as the shorter figure across the bridge begins to relay the same message a second after he speaks.

    <<Correction. No survivors here. Visual anomaly... mirroring effect>> he reports and slowly backs away, bringing Jon with him if the man allows. His eyes track the two figures on the other side of the bridge as the mirroring effect continues.

    <<We are heading inbound to your loca-->> The eruption of the jet's appearance and Drew's hysteria makes him wince. <<We have to work together. Otherwise the chaos of this place is likely to keep us so off balance that we won't make it out>> he says. He's not the senior officer and his words don't have any sort of clarity of command, just a suggestion to the man in charge.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The Archivist replies to Jane, <<"If you are asking if I sense only 'baser' emotions at a distance, no. My powers are somewhat sight-based, so it's more a lack of resolution. At a distance I can tell 'anger' or 'fear,' closer I can pick up complexities and reasons. This is... well. There is at least one instance of 'general deterioration of higher mental faculties' but in others I get the sense of emotions, just... ones that are completely alien to my understanding. It's honestly fascinating.">> As if he'd like to /stay/ and... what, seek out the alien minds? Bad idea, Archivist.

    He winces at hearing the pilot's voice over comms, murmurs a prayer for his soul. And he does hesitate for a long moment, staring across the bridge at the two figures there. "That's... /odd/." But then he lets Martin pull him away, toward the others. Maybe. Everything is so odd it's hard to say.

Jane Foster has posed:
The worst part about being able to read trouble is not having any power to affect it. Science offers a window into a facet of the world, though it cannot always bridge the distance between here and there. Effects witnessed on the macro scale, augmented by the sound conveyed through the comms links, keeps Jane from doing a damn thing about the Quinjet falling out of the sky. "No." Those dark cocoa eyes turn heavenward, a hand shielding her gaze as she scans the horizon in futility for any signs. Knee planted the ground, her rise isn't fast enough to do anything about it. <Jess, what are you--?> The question dies on her lips, since the cacophony of fear and warnings in tumbling peril rouse a response to do something.

But there isn't anyone else visible there at all. Logic pools around the sick feeling in her stomach; she forces herself up. <Agent Drew, I'm right here. Deep breath, count with me to five. We are going to get through this.> The penny hasn't quite dropped about being invisible to her and Steve, but that will happen much faster than anyone has right to expect.

Putting down another stake gives a point to triangulate off of, the tablet unslung from her bag as she heads for them. The app coming to life with a press of her fingers brings a flurry of weirdly dancing bars, graphs that blip in cyan detail on the silvery-black backdrop. She flips through settings and adjusts parameters programmed to her specific request; none of them are that helpful. <None of these readings make a lick of sense. We are not experiencing a hundred meter gravitational bulge to the surface. That would put us on Io, and our problems would be significantly greater than enjoying the forest and no sky.> Time to start narrowing down details. <I'm within a few meters of Captain Rogers and Agent Drew. I have visuals on you taking a stick and approaching a rock, sir.> She's polite.

Because the conversation had cursing out Odin right now would otherwise be impolite for company.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    While moving towards Jess (or Jess moving towards him) has the opposite affect, Steve can at least make successful progress towards the shape formed of woven branches. As he gets closer it becomes clear that the figure is humanoid, similar in size to, maybe a preteen or young teenager. A grouping of branches, like an arm, extends down towards the water's edge, where a lone stick pokes deep into a bunch of moss that's nearly fallen free of the rock it was once gripping to, against the pull of the current.

    And when he looks up, well, there's Dr. Foster! He can see her, suddenly, from this position. Though from her perspective, Steve took one step forward and then vanished entirely, no trace left behind. Jess can still see Cap though, so she has some touchstone while her Spider senses thoroughly disrupt her mental equilibrium.

    Or rather, something thoroughly disrupts her Spider senses.

    Cael can no longer see the quinjet, but the break in the treeline provided by the clearing that Jane, Steve, and Jess currently occupy (despite what any of them might think, at the moment) shows the moment of impact, above.

    The quinjet barrels through the sky. No smoke from the engines but it's definitely not moving under its own power. Sara reaches the Witchblade out towards it, and then--

    It's gone. Her arms grasp at empty air.

    On the comms, very distantly--only those with enhanced hearing can make it out--comes "<<Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Quebec Juliet Alpha Niner Foxtrot, I have lost engine power.>>" The same voice, human and yet not human. It repeats. At the horizon, Sara can see a blip. Slowly, it begins to grow in size at it approaches.

    "<<Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Quebec Juliet Alpha Niner Foxtrot, I have lost engine power.>>"

    That becomes the background music for everyone's easy listening, though for Cael the chittering that she heard before continues. Slowly, the beast inches forward, out of the foliage. Vulpes vulpes fulva, the North American red fox. It sniffs at Cael, and its maw splits too wide, too many teeth, though it does nothing more than continue to scent the air, its senses discombobulated. Boney growths line its spine, and the glow to its eyes remain as it enters the... not-sunlight. They may reflect light but they're also clouded over, as if the creature has gone blind.

    Somehow, both Jonathan and Martin have a thoroughly normal walk through Great Falls for a few moments, until they encounter Agent Becker and whatever the hell that thing is with her.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve examines the macabre tree sculpture and frowns, not liking it one bit. When he turns back around, he can see Jane again! And he can still see Jess. This is good. "Oh, good. Doctor Foster. You're alright," he says with relief.

"Have you managed to figure anything out about this place?" He pauses, glancing over his shoulder. "That sculpture is disturbing. Very ... human-like."

Cael Becker has posed:
    <<"...no luck with the Quinjet, then,">> Cael remarks, only pulling her eyes away from the creature for a moment. Her eyes return to the fox, taking a couple steps back from the creature. She still has an ICER in hand, and she considers shooting the thing. Maybe having a specimen for one of the scientists to look at would answer questions? <<"I have a... weird fox. The eyes are glowing, like a cat's eyes at night - but they're cloudy. I'm not sure if it can see. And it has... weird boney growths down its back. Have we ever tested what an ICER does to wildlife?">> she asks in an almost casual tone. <<"Any sciencey types want a chance to look at this thing?">> Honestly - she'd probably just feel better having a chance to shoot at it. It's creeping her out.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Gathering herself up, face pinched, Jessica frowns, "Who are you talking to, sir?" She looks around her, neither a sculpture or Jane in sight.

Shifting a few steps and the strange bundle of leaves and branches pop into view like she had walked around a corner. The agent steps back then forward, testing the peek-a-boo effect. "Are we in a physics experiment, Captain? What do you see? And where did the jet go?"

Sara Pezzini has posed:
Sara spins in the air once from the momentum she had built up to catch the quinjet and have it not there, just... gone, and yet it wasn't. It was like someone hit the reset button and there the quinjet was back at starting crash point. <"That's so fucked up,"> she mutters, then says more clearly. <"Quinjet reset, it's back to the start of crashing. I don't think there's anything we can do about it or for the pilot until we solve the riddle of this fog.">

But enough is enough. The team can't function like this, separated and panicked, the strangeness of this place enough to drive anyone insane. It was time to do something about it, even if that means attempting something she'd never tried before. Witchblade was certain he could do it, and that was all the assurance she needed.

The armor around Sara's body begins to unravel in places, leaving flesh exposed but giving her the materials she needed. She begins extending a tendril in the direction of each member of the team before starting to lower herself to the ground, it was important she /see/ the tendril reaching each person before she landed.

<"Gathering you all up." She states bluntly. "Tendril of Witchblade will find each of you, wrap around a wrist, and guide you all back to me. We can't be separated like this, so when it reaches you, please let it wrap around a wrist and follow it back.">

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    As Jon and Martin approach Cael and the fox-like thing, Martin breathes out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God..." he whispers to himself more than anyone else. Then she's suggesting she kill the thing. "Don't kill it!" he cries out. "It's just an animal. It's not even threating you." At least, it didn't look like it was. Those teeth were a little frightening though.

    Thankfully, Sara gave instructions on her actions and Martin didn't entirely freak out as a chain-like tendril wraps itself around his wrist. <<You have me Agent Pezzini. Come to you.>> He eyes Cael, really hoping the woman didn't shoot the fox out of spite.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "It's /confused/, Agent Becker," the Archivist says aloud with that odd humming echoy static still overlaying his words directing a disapproving glower at his training partner. "Leave the poor thing be."

    Then he raises his right wrist for the Witchblade's tendril to wrap around, to help them home to each other. <<"I'm connected, Agent Pezzini.">>

Jane Foster has posed:
"You've disappeared visually the moment you stepped closer to the rock and the water, Cap." Jane sounds only mildly perplexed, the auditory response coming a second delayed. She, like the inestimable Jemma Simmons, rarely goes on field missions without goggles. The slim-line ones of Fitz and Simmons' design get perched simply on her nose, a quick sweep taken after aligning her tablet away from the disoriented sensory array. Now it insists they are at the confluence of four dimensions, which simply isn't possible. <I'm talking to you, Jess. You are still in visual range. If I didn't know better, I would say Loki Odinson would have a delightful time in here.>

She turns slightly and then moves back a few steps to see if Steve comes back into view. If that doesn't work, she returns to her initial position and sidesteps a proper ten degrees and repeats the process. Fifteen? Twenty. <Yes, ICERs have been tested against a large variety of animals, humanoids, and empowered individuals. The dendrotoxins should operate within an acceptable range.> She's not trusting fate for anything more. <When dealing with glowing eyes, you can assume it to be a cryptid or augmented, and it's probably as lost as the rest of us.> Jonathan or the Archivist, whichever speaks, confirms this and she nods. <I worry if I come over there, I will lose line of sight or see spatial distortions.>

Looking out for one of Sara's tendrils would normally be troubling. Instead, she holds onto that metal lifeline if it appears like greeting an old friend.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Wasn't that sculpture looking down into the water? When Steve glances back, the sculpture is faced more towards him, almost as if it's mirroring his over-the-shoulder look. From where Jessica is standing, its shape reads very clearly as a crouching child, somewhere between maybe 11 and 14.

    It takes several steps and a not-insignificant change to the angle of viewing for Jane to get Steve in her line of sights once again. And while she does so, from where Jess is standing, Jane appears, disappears, and then finally reappears once more. Now, if everyone stays right where they are, they can all see one another.

    Just after Jessica asks about the quinjet, she--and others with enhanced senses in the clearing--will hear it begin its approach overhead once more. Of course Sara actually sees it coming, but she's reaching out with tendrils of the Witchblade and lowering herself towards the ground as they connect to the other members of the team, so she is no longer in its path.

    Probably best not to test if it disappears at precisely the same place, even if that would track with all the other impossible things made possible within the fog.

    The grouping of agents Becker, Blackwood, and Sims is found first by them. And Jon is right, the fox is just confused. It scurries around their feet before hiding behind Cael's legs, as if it thinks she might be part of the forest.

    As the Witchblade gets a good grip on those three, it extends too into the clearing where Steve, Jess, and Jane can all finally exist and be perceived together at the same time. Those tendrils find Jane first, but soon enough it has snagged the other two as well, and Sara can begin reeling them all in. Quite a catch, that.

    Overhead, the quinjet impacts nothing and disappears again. This time, though, they can all hear the whine of the engines right away. Which can't be right, as the pilot is still broadcasting mayday and a lack of engine power.

    It's not the quinjet making that noise. It's the sound of a transformer about to burst, a massive buildup of energy that causes hair to stand up on arms and goosebumps to erupt on the backs of necks. Pressure builds in skulls, teeth ache, ears start to pop, and then with a great HEAVE

        everything

                shifts.

    The team stands together, still bound by Witchblade's tendrils. But they're together in the clearing. The strange fox still huddles against Cael. The sculpture of branches still crouches by the river. But the sky is blue, the sun is back, and overhead--

    "<<Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Quebec Juliet Alpha Niner Foxtrot, I have lo--I have regained engine power!>>"

    With a quick jerk, the quinjet spins out of its descent, narrowly avoiding collision with a figure streaking across the sky. "<<What the f--Agent Rzewski is that you? Cap, Dr. Foster--anyone on the team read me?>>"

    It's the Falcon. He's calm, collected, but there's a note of unease underlying his voice as he calls out for radio contact over comms.

    Suddenly there's a huge amount of chatter from the SHIELD team at the base.

    "<<--fog has vanished-->>"

    "<<--was a massive energy spike, like-->>"

    "<<--confirmation of EPIRB signals of rescue team restored-->>"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve accepts the Witchblade tendril and lets it lead him back to a place where everyone can see each other. His face is serious as he regards the rest of the team. He opens his mouth to start planning their next move, when---

Reality

            Warps

Cap stumbles as they return to the real worls, squinting up at the sun. He puts a finger to his earpiece. <<We hear you now, Sam. We're back.>> He pauses. <<That was weird. Heading in for debrief and maybe decon. I have no idea what happened.>>

Cael Becker has posed:
    "It's an //ICER,// guys. It's designed to be non-lethal. And I'm specifically asking if it would be safe to use it on an animal, geeze." Cael rolls her eyes broadly, without turning to regard Sims and Blackwood - keeping her gaze on the strange creature. It could be important to understand the affect this mist is having on life forms, so even as the tendril from Witchblade wraps around her, Cael makes a decision. She takes aim at the creature - even as the pressure builds, and she grits her teeth in response to the strange, and exceedingly uncomfortable sensation. Her aim waivers as she loses focus, and the creature takes cover behind her.
    As reality returns, and the pressure in her head is relieved, Cael turns and - yes - fires on the unfortunate little creature, crouching to gather it up in her arms.
    "I hope you're okay, little guy," Cael murmurs quietly. See? She isn't //completely heartless//. But there's something wrong with the creature, and it needs to be examined so they can get to the bottom of this phenomena.

Jessica Drew has posed:
They play hide and seek for a few minutes, Jane popping in and out of view. It nearly makes Drew smile.

A tendril appears out of the trees. Jessica shudders at it. Unwilling to touch it, despite Pez's words, the hardened field agent only reluctantly lets it wrap her wrist all the while looking at Cap for reassurance. He let it touch him.

A deep breath, another and the deep sense of unreasoning panic dissipates like the fog around them. Gold and red leaves flutter against the autumn sky. The rest of the team look so good standing together in the trees.

Sara Pezzini has posed:
As each person is guided back into the clearing, Sara looks relieved to see each and every one of them. Witchblade was right, he was able to do what he said he could, even if she was standing there in scanty armor at the moment.

Then the world...

        shifts

Reality restored, she looks around slowly, a small debate with Witchblade about letting go for the team now, which he seems not ready to do. "Sorry guys," she mutters then actually stares at the gauntlet on her hand as if she's staring at a petulant child. Witchblade... thousands of years old relic of two gods... stared at like a child. The tendrils then slowly begin to let go of each member and rewrap around her body to form the armor again.

"Over protectiveness," she admits to them all. "He's really angry about all this."

Martin Blackwood has posed:
    Martin takes Jon's hand and walks with him back to the others. Two points of connection are better than one after all. As some of the others come into view he speaks over the comms, <<Okay so what's our next...>>

    And then everything is back to normal.

    He stands in the clearing, comm chatter from Falcon and the pilot and the camp all floooding his earpiece. He drops his head. A wave of unaccounted for anxiety pouring off of him like a wave. He looks at Captain American and nods and lifts his hand as the tendril slowly uncoils itself from his wrist. He glances to Jon and can almost see the wheels in the man's head spinning a mile a minute.

    Everything was going to be okay and then Cael shoots the fox thing. He jumps. Non-lethal or not it was a bit extreme in his eyes. He gives her a look, but the realizes her care in holding the thing and her words to its unconcious form. He lets it go.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The Archivist is trying to make sense of it all, something that is not to be made sense /of/.

        /Shift/.

    It's Jon that stumbles a little at the sudden slam of input, the minds that are there again, the radio chatter. He reaches out reflexively to grab at Martin, be sure he's still there. He is. They all are. Good. That's good. Then he manages to smile at Cael. "Fair enough," he murmurs.

    Then he turns in a circle, scanning for the civilian minds he'd felt. "Do we know if the civilians made it out?"

Jane Foster has posed:
What anchors them to reality might be a silvery tendril of shockingly dextrous ease and excellent navigational skills. It could be luck. Jane isn't questioning either as she moves through the clearing to the others, relief written plain on her tired face. "It can be used safely, that's what I am saying," she finds herself replying until it doesn't matter with Cael facing down her little vulpine companion.

Reality's tears around the edges are brutally loud and hard. <We're back, I believe. We hopefully have readings from the inside and the out.> Oh, please let the technology have survived. That much she can hand over to the other experts to sift through, once any fo the world quite makes sense. Her lips part for a low sigh. Maybe it's fuddled. <Got eyes on us, Wilson? Then count me happy.>

"No apologies. He did what was needed. Thank you to him and you. Do we have...?"

Sam Wilson has posed:
    With Witchblade's assistance, Sara manages to pull everyone back together just in the nick of time. For whatever time meant, wherever--whenever--they were.

    Sam is indeed overhead with eyes on the team, which he confirms with a "<<Good to see you're all okay,>>" though he gives the airspace immediately above a wide berth to avoid another potential air crash.

    "<<Sorry about that, Falcon! I'm coming back around to pick up the team--don't know how in the world you ended up down there instead of in here with me,>>" comes over the comms, their pilot's voice taking priority on the encrypted SHIELD frequency.

    And the quinjet makes its appearance only a moment later. The cargo doors open as it hovers near the ground within the clearing. "<<Taking you all straight to decon, I'm afraid. Word from on high. We've got other teams in-bound to conduct search and rescue now that it's cleared up.>>" There is indeed already a swarm of SHIELD drones appearing overhead, and the sound of other quinjets in the air, on the approach. Plus plenty of radio chatter from the temporary base across the state line.

    The scientists are all in quite a state from whatever phenomena they witnessed on the outside, looking in. More than one try to cut in over the radio to question the team about what happened, generally aimed at Dr. Foster because she was the field-deployed scientist, or Steve... because he's Captain America.

    Aboard the quinjet, the team has a chance to settle in and, maybe, get their wits back about them. Though most of them will likely notice that the pilot seat is... empty. Still no magic for Martin or Sara to detect, but Jon will be able to sense the relief of their pilot as if he were present. Thankfully, Jessica's Spider-senses have stopped screaming at her. She's definitely getting the all-clear: they're out of danger.

    "<<You know, I've seen plenty of strange things in my time with SHIELD, but that's gotta be the weirdest, for sure,>>" comes the pilot--Agent Rzewski--over comms again. "<<One second you were all strapped in the back and the next you were gone.>>"

    12 hours of mandatory quarantine is in everyone's future, including the unconscious fox creature that Cael brought in with her. SHIELD staff locate almost all of the civilians identified as missing, as well as a few more. None so unusually affected by the anomalous area as the pilot of their quinjet, though Jon will have been able to sense a significant amount of confusion from them all before getting the order to evacuate straight into quarantine. In fact, the entire area is likely to be swarming with SHIELD for the foreseeable future.

    Great Falls is now officially closed for the season.