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Melissa helped the shifting form to their feet. They were lighter than she expected, but then again she wasn’t exactly sure why she was expecting anything right now. There seemed to be little sense to anything still. Of course, names were good -- Melissa picked up Fen’s as she walked by, and Masaru and Trevor were talking nearby -- but everything else? That “willing to accept anything and everything” feeling was wearing off quick, replaced only by, you know, normal feelings like anxiety. “I don’t know what any of this is, and it doesn’t seem like any of y’all… you all do either except that one guy claiming to be a demon. So I…” She was especially worried about this amorphous mass, who, after hoisting themselves up had stumbled forward a few steps, almost like they were in a rage, before manifesting a hoodie, pulling a hood over where the eyes were, and collapsing again. She also wasn’t entirely sure if they had heard her at all -- they seemed to have repeated the exact same sentiments she had just expressed -- but that was something she was used to, really. Her bigger focus was on the first thing, that they were back to lying prone on the ground, and she rushed over to offer assistance again. Wait, what was that about a demon? “My name is Roy Westlock, Honored knight-captain of the Britannian Cavalry.” The pronouncement drew Melissa’s attention over to a tree, next to which the apparent bearer of such titles (whatever they stood for) had their boot pressed against the other, who still had flames coming out of their mouth. Worse still, there were others nearby who didn’t seem to really- they were just watching on as it happened, and some weren’t even doing that! They were just talking amongst themselves casually, as if this were nothing new. And these were the people who had just expressed they too had no idea what was going on! There were two obvious paths forward in Melissa’s mind. She could run to wherever that gut feeling was calling her, but that meant charging past everyone else, including two incredibly hostile individuals, one of whom was apparently a demon? Of course, she could also go the opposite way, but that meant going into a city she had no knowledge of and with no resources. And all of that was still discounting… She looked back down at the one lying in the grass. “I’d like to get out of here, but I would also like to get you out of here before things get any worse,” she said. “Do you- can you stand, at least? I can try to carry you if it comes to that, but…” “I can probably stand…” the shifter replied. “I… don’t want to shrink down right now, even if my memories say I can...” They pushed themselves up a little bit. “And I don’t think you can carry me as-is…?” Oh, that’s interesting. Melissa bit her lip. “Alright, well, um…” There was a lot to process in there, from them saying what she already knew -- that she wasn’t built to carry an additional hundred-plus pounds for any distance longer than a few feet -- to the idea that there was even more to them than she or they knew, to even the odd interjection from voices she had almost forgotten about in the meantime. She tried to put all her focus onto the first thing, though, and she crouched down and tried to lift the shifter back up. She couldn’t even get them off the ground, or at least, she couldn’t in any way that mattered. Maybe if the weight were more evenly distributed, like maybe she asked them to climb up on her back, but that also felt like asking more than they were willing to contribute and it probably wouldn’t work anyway. But also when she looked back at the fight she saw that it was dangerously close to escalating further. There really wasn’t much time to try other solutions. Melissa, is it permissible to try something? “What?” she muttered under her breath. It may be possible to generate a physical manifestation, something that could temporarily come to your aid. “Temporarily?” The process would likely require overriding your consciousness. Your body would still live, and when the manifestation disappears, you would likely wake up as well. Likely? She didn’t say it this time, she just thought it. This would be a new process for everyone involved. It is understandable if you do not find these risks acceptable.There may even be more than the ones given so far. You were looking for solutions, however, and this may be one of them. It would certainly be the quickest if it were to succeed. Okay. She understood all the words that echoed around in her head, but it was still a bit difficult to fully visualize what was supposed to happen. With her other ideas, she could at least see what was supposed to happen, and she was especially good at coming up with ways that they wouldn’t. But this one was different. It felt beyond the scope of her comprehension. She wasn’t even going to be conscious for it, according to the voices in her head. And yet, that almost made it seem better than the more tangible ideas. Not being able to visualize the consequences meant she couldn’t agonize over them, and the voices’ monotone at least made it seem like they were confident. It was something she could leech off of, even if the surety was only a veneer. “You know where we would like to go?” she said. The pull you feel towards that direction is perhaps even stronger here in your head, was the reply, as is the desire for some form of answer to what has happened. “Just get to the edge of the park,” Melissa said. “We just need to get past that fight.” If it was as these voices described, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be under for longer than she had to. But she accepted it, and took a deep breath, exhaling sharply before turning her attention to the shifter. “Alright, well, I guess we’re going to try something. Don’t be afraid.” She closed her eyes and let her consciousness fade away. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. -Ephesians 6:11 (NIV) It feels a lot like a dream. The Melissa kneeling in front of the shifter is still there, but she -- her perception -- is standing behind her, looking down on both of them. It is a difficult thing to get used to. Not that she has much time to do so, though, because just as suddenly, there is a corona of light in front of her -- a new presence has made itself known. She has read about beings like this. This is a cherub, she thinks. It has all the traits of one, from the four faces -- one for each of God’s dominions -- to the four wings and arms, to the straightened legs, shining like polished brass. She can see that it has weapons sheathed by its hip, but in her familiarity with this form, she does not feel fear, and she hopes that the shifter took her final words to them to heart as well. The cherub’s moves are smooth and deliberate; It crouches down and takes Melissa’s body with two of its arms, cradling her underneath its oxen head, and the shifter underneath the head of the lion. Its skin, still gleaming in the midday sun, is odd to the touch; it is surprisingly cool, a sensation further muted by the state her perception is in. Just as smoothly too, is how it lifts off again, leaping into the air with a flap of its wings and carrying them across the park. Her consciousness goes with them, flying just behind. She wonders how she would feel if she were awake, looking down at the other strangers who had been summoned to this place. But the cherub flies too swiftly for her to contemplate for too long, and soon they are touching down at the park’s border. The cherub places both her and the shifter as it had found them, her just kneeling over them, and vanishes in another flash of light. It was a surprisingly odd feeling to wake up back in her own body, but Melissa was still glad that she did. She let out an exultant gasp and let the waves of relief wash over her. It had worked! Still, though, they weren’t quite out of the woods yet. She looked down at the shifter and said, “You said you can stand? Do you think you can lean on me the rest of the way, then? On the way, we can maybe try to jog your memory a bit more.” She offered her hand again, and gestured out into the city proper with the other. “If you do remember a place, did it look like this?”

Yasha nodded pensively when he heard his name called, but was still thinking about the cute new girl and it took until after Dreadbolt had finished for him to fully process what had been said. He had to-- No, he GOT TO fight Hemlock. His science teacher. For grades. Standing bolt upright from his seat, he planted his hands on the desk. "Wait. You mean to tell me we get to fight our teachers?! And we're being graded on how well we fight?! And we won't get in trouble if we punch them?!" He turned to the others in the class with his typical toothy smile. "GUYS, THIS IS GOING TO BE AWESOOOOOOOME!!" He roared, his voice rising to the roar of an active chainsaw, revving as his arms flexed in triumph.

I don't want to do the obvious...... arrgh HERE INSTEAD Halloween Hilbert and Mightyena

Shit ain't looking good on the interest front, but i'll write mine down all the same.