Meeting the Lost (DNA???)

[Mithos]

It was just so easy - he had almost forgotten that, even with a new caretaker, wings and the ability to change his appearance trumped any obstacle. A twelve year old had entered Storybrooke, and a much taller man had left it - though he had switched to his younger appearance so that he could gather information once he was sure he was far enough away. Crossing large distances wasn't a problem either, even though the prevalent technology on the road was completely alien to him. He could fly, after all, and people so rarely looked up - he had been careful, of course, but who would believe the sighting of an angel flying over the countryside anyways?

At length, he landed, concentrating for a moment to hide his wings. Keeping them out was useful when he needed to intimidate or impress, but this was hardly the time for either. Crossing his arms, he made his way through the city. This place... it didn't seethe with mana, not as Storybrooke did - almost as if in defiance of the barren world surrounding it - but there was something here. Maybe something that could help him. Did this world have a Summon Spirit responsible for its tree - or a tree at all? If so, those would be an excellent starting point to returning to his own. Even if he had... died there.

That thought was disorienting and made him grit his teeth. It didn't matter. He would go back, and revive Martel, and everything would be perfect -

Unbeknownst to him, he had kept walking and ended up in a sizeable park. At first glance, it looked pleasant, even serene, though it had humans cluttering up the entire space. As soon as he looked closer, he found the source of mana - spirits, wandering everywhere. Had some great battle occurred, that so many ghosts were left afterwards? He clenched his hands into fists. Of course this world would have its own wars, especially as there seemed to only be humans here. Humans always chose to fight with each other, ignoring the misery they heaped upon the world with their actions. It was disgusting.

"Just what happened here?" he asked aloud, not caring if someone heard. In fact, Mithos hoped he would draw some attention - it would help his goals, in the end.

Martel.

He would just need a little time.

[Nyarlathotep]

"Simply the remnants of the dead...and among them, the dying."

A coldness descended upon the town of Amity Park, as a voice just as chilling as the the dark and harrowing atmosphere spoke behind the childike shade of Mithos the Hero. The voice belonged to a figure just as ominous and and cold as the aura he, and by extension the town, projected. He was a tall, swarthy man who could well have come form Egypt, and he carried with him a regal air as though belonging to a king. The spirits fled his approach, though despite their suddenly terrified movements, if asked, none could say why. With the man's appearance, even the normal men who stalked Amity Park's streets felt a strange gnawing at their nerves, and those that did not quietly or politely leave stayed almost placent, almost paralyzed by some fear, preventing them from making sudden movements but otherwise allowing them to go about a shadow of their day. Yet despite these inhuman and strange effects that this man's mere entrance had done unto the citizens here, he dressed in garb that in of itself did not make him seem out of place on either the streets of Amity Park or a formal ball. He wore a black, pinstriped jacket done in the style of a suit's blazer, with a distinctive red scarf, adorning his shaded face, kept with messy hair, as black as the sky surrounding them.

An eerie silence consumed the park once more before the figure spoke once again, as both the sounds of man and the droning of machines ceased. He spoke out, calmly and deeply, his words directly only towards Mithos, but seeming to break this sudden silence as a touch upon still water. The world seeming stopped and continued it's activity upon his whim, and it seemed that all of space convened as a floodgate to hold back the gushing and overwhelming waters of unnatural dread the imminated from this 'man' in the slightest of exercises.

"Greetings, Mithos the Hero, and welcome to Amity Park...shall you take a walk with me?

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[Mithos]

The cold, stifling presence that fell upon the land was not familiar - but in a few ways, it was comforting to have his suspicions ascertained. There were entities, or Summon Spirits here, and clearly of some power, to have this effect on such a large area. He distantly recalled facing his first Summon Spirit - that had been awe-inspiring and frightening, but they did not have auras that were so... menacing. Of course, they were natural spirits, meant to control and balance out the flow of mana, but this...

It was a specific sort of dread, trying to burden his every movement and weaken him with paralysing uncertainty. It took some mental fortitude to shake it off, and then, he was no ordinary being. To be so affected meant this strange spirit was powerful indeed. Turning slowly, he looked up at the man, eyes narrowing at the use of not only his name, but the title had been given in his own religion. That meant... a great deal. Either his memories were vulnerable here, or someone had spread tales of him - including an accurate description, which was incredibly unlikely - or...

Or he was indeed facing someone or something with enough power that any attempt with deception would be an insult. Straightening, he crossed his arms, aware that this was one meeting where simply taking on his adult form would not accord him any more respect - and perhaps lessen it. "I believe it is courtesy everywhere that one introduce himself before extending any kind of invitation," he said coolly. "Especially since you already seem to know of me."

His pride was not unwarranted. He had been - still was, he hastily reminded himself - one of the most powerful people in his own world. He had ruled and manipulated two worlds to ensure their survival. He had been the one to cut them in half. Wielder of the Eternal Sword, the hero of the Kharlan War, the leader of Cruxis - it was confidence, not arrogance, in his deeds and the power he had. Even being stuck in a different world, his goals stalled, didn't change that.