#I don’t think their medieval period brains would be able to process the fight between Leon and Ash

[randomtheidiot]

Show a Hisuian peasant a video of the World Champion Tournament from Journeys, watch them froth at the mouth and keel over dead.

[nowuseeitnowudontium]

Hail Fellow Well Met

Ao3

A peak into Ford’s life full of hardships and the beginning of a story that he will never retell. The credit for the screenshot (that tumblr didn’t let me insert but is there on Ao3), the Fallout Earth AU itself and the description of surroundings goes to @julientel

The environment of the Dimension 6009* appeared to be completely hostile and its inhabitants unpredictable. Being a part of the state’s authority noted for its austerity, the government of its capital- the place where he, the luckiest human to ever traverse the Multiverse,found himself in- wasn't so delighted to have a wanted vagabond on their land. He has to admit, he hadn't been experiencing that much stress and dread and physical exhaustion in a short period of time for... many-many years. (how many?)

He managed to sneak on a barely used engineering facility using the invisibility potion he.. acquired in the previous dimension he was thrown into, which had features similar to those of his planet's historical era known as Medieval times, only with additions of magic and dragons. (It amused him to some extent. A book about this world would have been the rare kind his brother would read with excitement) He had been hiding in the corridors and storage rooms of the giant, later to be recognized as an out-of-use spaceship, occasionally pretending to be a low-rank technician or a cleaner. Until the crew remembered that they hadn't purchased a humanoid sweeper. Than the game hide and seek was on. But not for long.

He is running out of time. And options. He will, eventually, face a dead end, however hard he prays. (as if he will help you now. And it's not like you were ever a believer) Rounding another corner without slowing down he almost loses his balance. Bullets (thank whatever-is-out-there not laser beams) are heard making their way into the wall right where he was seconds ago. He has to turn every time there is a chance, otherwise his pursuers will have a clear shot, and he can bet they won't fail to capture him this time.  The guard cornered him in one of the abandoned computer maintenance rooms. They were purposefully after him, which was to be expected sooner rather than later, as wanted posters were all around this city, and the only way he could obscure his features at that point was to keep his head low. He was short of belongings too, which was relatively helpful, providing a quick escape without looking back. He didn't manage to break free before they cuffed his hands though. (The way he kicked one creature in the - face? - was badass. And then used another as a shield, strangling it with the cuffs…) Another turn. It's making him dizzy.  The heavy shackles are not making the process of setting a destination (preferably not open space please) on his portal watch easier. The handcuffs consist of the metallic-looking bracelets tightly circling around both of his wrists and a chain-like electric connection binding them together. He is able to pull them apart enough to operate the watch, but it takes a lot of energy and the fact that at the same time he has to navigate through the ever green corridors does nothing to help. Intriguing. Will you manage to get out of this one? He has to wash off and fast, if he loses more time, the reinforcements will arrive, and then he'll be done for. You have to. His vision is pulsing. With every passing second his thoughts run faster, even though he keeps himself at the same speed, partly thanks to adrenaline and SNS. But the hunger and tiredness from not being able to wholly fulfill basic human needs for weeks (weeks? who are you kidding) play their part in his system rebelling against him. The sensation of the lower part of his body becoming alien to him is beyond horrifying. He feels his fingers are no longer in his control, his legs moving on autopilot, then tying into a knot-  You will fall, they will catch you, they will hand you over to him Has that thought just pierced his frying brain, he trips. The hard cold floor of the ship meets his chin and his elbows and ankles, sending a wave of pain through him. The metallic bracelets dig into the naked skin. Everything around him is the same hue of green and hazy and spinning, making him sick. Through it all he can make out the vibrations made by his pursuers.  get up get up gET UP FASTER Pulling one leg up, then another, almost suffocating in between breaths, he gets to his feet, the walls still wavering. A shriek makes its way to his ears, reflecting from every surface and intensifying.  " ýØŪ WįĻł-ň- ț GƏt āw-Ý ĆŘïmin-ÆŁ!!" screeches his broken translator, which makes it harder to carry on running with the splitting headache that made itself known again.  Another corner, another round of bullets, another wave of dizziness to fight off, all while entering data into the small life saving secondhand device on his left wrist. He can not make sure the calculations are correct, and he has no other options. Last turn, and he presses the button on the side of the device. No time to mentally or otherwise prepare for the interdimensional transition (though even without going through the portal he's pretty much on the verge of throwing up right here and now) and he also has to remember the trick he'll have to perform when In Between. Oh God I haven't done it in years what if I- A sparkle of turquoise light appears right before him. He quickly dodges to the side, slamming into the wall, runs ahead a bit and turns around, trying to slow his breathing, to face the forming hole in matter. The portal will serve as a barrier between him and the creatures, he hopes they'll be too stunt to shoot or try to charge after him. The spark momentarily reforms into a circle of blinding light. He has nothing to throw in there, no way to check if it's conjugated, so that'll be one of those "do or die" situations.  The portal is swirling in front of him, erupting angry lightning bolts in every direction. He counts to six and jumps in with a running start. a feeling of your molecules being pulled apart and then joined back together is incomparable if we give this human to It It will spare us- everything is buzzing there is nothing and there is everything reality doesn't exist think you need to think where are your hands he feels them there but his brain sells are overwhelmed and he can't find his sight sixer stop saying it like it's obvious anyway it's better to not try to see please don't kill me please they say if you do you'll lose it you were lying to me  let me help you some time ago being the scientist he is he'd say with certainty that what is happening to him now isn't possible concentrate he forces his hands to jerk to the sides you're so funny six fingers there is no way to know if what you feels is real because there is no such thing as reality in the In Between a plague upon every land you step on you need to leave you'll doom us all his mind now probably looks like a net of nerve sells and dendrites and axons outspread in space- And then everything snaps back too fast and he crushes into the hard cold steel.  He doesn't have time to grumble internally about it being metal again instead of the grass or even soil he is starting to miss, as he realises that the spinning image he is seeing is because his body is rolling off something and the angle is sloping rapidly grab something!!! His perplexed senses instantly fall back into the "make sure you're safe think later" mode, which actually became a kind of default setting.  Next time his head clears up a bit, he is hanging on a rusty rafter between two huge pieces of concrete. The slope is pretty strong, and he can't find it in him to look other than at his hands just yet. His leg finds another pin, and after checking it for stability, his body pulls itself upwards. A few climbing movements, a few involuntary struggling noises, and he finds himself on a more or less flat surface. Crawling slowly ahead, he tries to put himself back together, clutching and releasing his bruised and tired fingers, rubbing the surface of whatever it is he on with his elbows. Suddenly all his limbs feel like they are made from lead. He falls on his side, then rolls on the back and shuts his eyes. Okay. You're okay. Not until you make sure of it, you moron! They fly open shortly, and moving on autopilot, he raises from his spot to make a quick scan of the surroundings. Not that he can actually see much, with that constant pulsing behind his eyelids which seems to be swirling into his brain. He also must have hit the ground hard.. No immediate treats in the line of vision. He lets go of the blaster on his hip.  He closes his eyes, reminding himself to focuse on trying to fight off the nausea. Loosing even more water is something he can't afford- he done more than enough sweating lately.  It's okay now. It's okay, you're out. It's okay. They can't get to you. Breathe in. Breathe out. The air is clear. Even oxygenated. Earth-like. I can hear leaves rustling quietly.  That's a relief. Plants mean food. Most of the time. It it... a river? That's definitely water. Don't get too excited, it might not be drinkable.  I think that distant roar is a sign there are higher organisms. Maybe there's sentient life here too. Maybe they won't try to annihilate me at first sight. Or make me kill for their entertainment. Or offer me to their divinity as a sacrifice. Or- Hey. Cut it out with self-loathing.  He felt one sweaty six-fingered hand run up his face and his dirty unkempt hair. He probably needs a haircut- My hands.  They are free.  His brain gathered some information from his first seconds in this new world, but he was still piecing it together, and he just had to make sure that- You did it. It worked you did it The plan was to repeat the stunt he accidentally pulled a decade (or so) back. He was arrested, cuffed, and made a quick escape through a inartificial portal, which appeared nearby right on cue (luck was definitely on his side these days), and when his molecules reassembled on the other side, he was amazed to discover that the handcuffs gone. He spend some time solving this mystery, tracing back steps, and eventually remembered that he simply didn't hold what he felt was his body still while inside the In Between, flailing his limbs around and all that. And so he came to the conclusion that the cuffs, not being a part of him, simply didn't reassemble in a place they should have. (That whole affair is a great risk, he later pondered. What if his clothes don't reassemble the way they should in a place they should, or his portal watch, or his journal, or his knife? A setback can cost him his life) He heard a laugh, quiet and dry and shallow, a little bit hysterical. It died out quickly. His hands dropped to the sides carelessly. I'm so tired. An iron construction gave a jerky creek, then another. Then silence. Only the stream gurgling beneath. Occasionally a single splash or a crack of a branch disturbs the piece.  You need to keep moving. The aching dulled by now and feels distant, so the traveller opens his eyes to see a purple sky. Not Dimension 5Pf^ acid-rain purple, but normal morning blue-ish light purple. The sight of the sky this color gives him a warm sensation. He knows why. Homesickness. Slowly and gently (nobody is after you just yet) he rises to his feet, looks around.  He is standing on an elevated highway, right near a fallen part of it. Of course the portal wouldn't open on the ground level, why would it? The road continues on the other side of the gap, and carries on as far as he can see, the remnants of the part he's standing on actually reach the ground. That's a good news. This motorway hasn't been used in.. centuries maybe. He moves to look over the railing. More than 60 feet above the ground. The river flows from somewhere underneath the bridge and farther... He stares with held breath at the picture before him. On the horizon, though not very far away, remains of a city, partly destroyed high-rise buildings and frameworks make dark silhouettes on the pink sky. The ground lacks any green, trees are nothing more than bare trunks. Everything looks deserted and.. dead.

A heavy and long sign escapes Ford, and it comes out as a small cloud of warmth, which evaporates in a second. The strengthening sunlight illuminates his gloomy features.

He releases the rusty handrails when he feels his fingers growing numb from cold. He considers for a second sketching of the breathtaking sight, but decides the view got printed into his brain, and he'll draw it from memory some time later. He instead reaches for his blaster. A single sun rises slowly.