Hjälpen Behöver Hjälp


carver_icon.gif chris_icon.gif cooper_icon.gif corbin_icon.gif dumortier_icon.gif

finn_icon.gif jim_icon.gif kara_icon.gif nicole3_icon.gif robyn6_icon.gif yi-min_icon.gif

past-elsef_icon.gif past-sonja_icon.gif

Scene Title Hjälpen Behöver Hjälp
Synopsis The travelers treat their own as well as their hosts while deciding their next course of action out of the strange time they find themselves in.
Date September 8, 2020


Fru Nilsson’s squinty eyes widen when the front door bangs open and Finn comes barrelling in with Jim on his shoulder. Finn’s strong and tall, but so is Jim.

“Where?” he demands, and the monosyllabic question is similar enough in both sound and tone that Fru Nilsson understands, pointing a shaky finger to the parlor off to one side. Finn strides that way, then as gently as possible, drops the man onto the sofa, then falls into a nearby chair to catch his breath.

“That thing is not right,” he breathes out, winded from the hurried trek out of the woods and across the field to the house. “We have the medicine, at least.” He pulls it from Jim’s hands, if the man will let him.

Elsef peers from around the corner, her bright blue eyes staring at Jim and the bloody claw marks that have torn and stained his shirt. “You saw the devils? Which one did you see?”

That is a terrifying question. “The hell are they, Pokemon? How many are there?” Finn asks, alarmed.

She doesn’t wait for the answer, but darts for the door. “Älf!” she chirps, a reminder that Rene had started for Carver’s. He can’t have gotten too far if he takes the path they had, across the village rather than through the trees.

Carver sees Finn coming, and it takes the space of a split second before he's moving to get the door open for them; once the door's open, he follows hot on his heels.

The news that the medicine was successfully retrieved is good, at least — assuming they got the right thing — but Roald and Stig have moved a step down the priority list. Whoever this guy is, there's a not-insignificant amount of blood coming out of him; first priority is to make sure that he's not in immediate danger.

Second priority, of course, is to make sure they're not about to get invaded by these devils Elsef was talking about; Finn's question is a very good one. "The hell happened?" he rasps, looking back and forth between Finn and the injured man who is very clearly not Dumortier.

Dumortier is only a ways down the path when he hears— not his name, but Elsef calling for him. Deep enough that the village is obscured by trees. Something else down the dirt pathway is too. Something that snaps branches and beats against brush. It doesn't sound like anything except what he'd like to avoid at all costs.

Suddenly the kid and the pox seems the safer of the two; Dumortier is backpedaling almost as soon as he realizes he can't spot what's coming. Before little Elsef has a chance to actually get down the path or even tell him anything, Rene has grabbed her by the hand and tugged her back behind the village fenceline. The same fence shifts and closes behind them, Rene's other hand outstretched and clenched around the lurch and twist of half-dead wood and roots.

"Look out, älskling…" Because of course he knows the word for darling. It's then that he hears the murmur of commotion in the direction she came from— "What's happened?" The question of the hour. Afternoon. Day.

"Too many," is Robyn's answer to how many. Her hand rests down on her sidearm as she looks up to Finn, and then over to Carver. A part of her wishes she had gone with Nicole, but someone had keep an eye on this lot — and for once, Robyn would rather not be in direct danger. Except… haha.

Her eyes turn to Jim, and Robyn frowns. She's met Jim a handful of times before, as recently as just last week. Sucking in a deep breath, she looks up to Carver. "Can I get you anything to help?" she asks him; she doesn't know her, but her impression of him is one of someone who can probably help better than she can at least.

For all that he had hold of the bag so tightly before, Jim is not particularly difficult to persuade to give it up now. Perhaps Finn is a better prospect than the bear-bat-whatever. Once he’s done that, though, he seems like he might be done for the day. Or possibly forever. He slides down the sofa, his eyes closing as his skin starts to go a little bit gray in its undertones. “Smallpox,” he murmurs. “Chicken pox. A pox on all our houses.” He winces, reaching his non-injured hand to rub his face.

“Water?” he finally decides as his eyes open again, just a crack, to look at Robyn. He doesn’t sound totally sure, but after a moment he says a little more certainly, “Water. Thank you.”

Finn’s peering in the bag, and he pulls out some of the items that might help — Jim packed bandages and Neosporin, along with the antibiotics, which he peers at to read the name. He lets out a low whistle.

“Doxycycline, and lots of it. How…?” he says, peering at Jim. “You SESA too?” he asks, glancing from the stranger to Robyn and back again.

“Just typhus, which apparently isn’t typhoid,” he cheerfully tells the man. “I better go check on that kid,” he says, heading to the door to look for Elsef and Dumortier.

Not too far in the distance, on their way back, Elsef, wide-eyed at that bit of what she no doubt thinks of is elf magic, chatters to Rene. “The tall one came back with a man that the devil hurt.” She makes a claw hand to swipe across her chest to indicate just how. “But he brought medicine. I don’t want you to get hurt by the djävulen for no reason.”

She points to Finn when she sees him in the distance looking for them. Finn gestures for Rene to return, before peering toward the treeline the others had gone, worry clearly painted over his features even from so far away.

"A man that the devil hurt?" The elfin man still has Elsef's hand in his, as if he might need to yank her to safety, periodic glances over his shoulder as they return. Rene only lets go when Finn waves him over, hand instead at Elsef's shoulders. On reaching the others, blue eyes track the ground where Jim had been dragged inside, and he peers through the door. Rene's gaze doesn't stay on Jim for long.

"Him? He had that?" Dumortier is quick to look between Finn and the bag that this stranger's just- - turned up with? He pries only far enough to get a better look at the contents. "It'd mean he was what, following us? No- -" That doesn't sound right either.

"What was it? She keeps saying devils, and there was something on the other path out of here." Didn't stay.

"None of the above," Carver rasps at the injured man's murmurs. It's not smallpox, or chickenpox, and most definitely not typhoid, thank you. But if he's got doxycycline, that'll help.

"Let me see that," Carver says, picking up the bag and peering into it for a moment. Neosporin, good. Bandages, good. Doxycycline, excellent. Carver actually smiles for a moment. The doxycycline will fix the kids up, the bandages will help the bearer of gifts, here… although that creeping grayish pallor isn't a good look. Not at all. Carver looks over to Robyn. "Water, yes," he nods. "Bring plenty."

Then his eyes move back to Jim, assessing the man to try and see where he's been wounded, and how deep. "When she gets back with the water, I've got some Motrin. In the meantime… what hurts the most?"

"Him?" As in Jim, Robyn motioning with a tilt of her head. "No. He's civilian, unless…" Unless something changed while she was gone for six months. Unlikely, but not ruled out of possibility. Carver's request for water is met with a slow nod, eyes scanning the immediate area for any kind of clean container she can use. Getting water here may prove easier said than done given the… state of things.

But she's certainly going to try. "Water. Right. I'll see what I can do."

The question of whether he is SESA draws a look of confusion, as well as a shake of his head. “No,” Jim says, his voice a little shaky, though now that he’s sitting down it’s beginning to seem like he will probably be fine with minimal medical tending and some rest. “Not…no. I didn’t follow you. I…”

He cuts off again, glancing over in Elsef’s direction, then around at the others. He then sighs, and says, “I saw you. In a vision.” He doesn’t explain further than that — most people here are likely to understand, and the one that isn’t might not understand even with more of an explanation, which he doesn’t quite have in him right now. Instead, he turns to Carver and gestures to the deepest claw mark. “This one’s probably the worst,” he decides. “Thanks. I should be okay once I’ve cleaned it.” A look over to Robyn, accompanied by a grateful, if small, smile. “Thank you.”

Somewhere in the distance, they hear a musket fire. Elsef hurries over to the window to peer outside, while Fru Nilsson bustles about in the kitchen, putting a kettle on a wood stove to heat water. She cannot understand them, but she understands injuries.

Once the kettle is on, she rummages about, then brings to Finn a pile of clean (at least they look clean) linens and a bottle of clear liquid. “Brännvin,” she says with a curt nod, which sounds a lot like brandy. It looks more like vodka.

Elsef moves closer to inspect Jim, her big blue eyes wide as she studies him and his injury without a flinch. “Can I watch you fix him?” she asks, looking up at Carver. “What is in the medicine? It looks funny.” She certainly has never seen medicine packaged like Jim’s delivery.

“That one’s going to be a doctor someday,” Finn says with amusement, giving his nod of thanks to Fru Nilsson as he takes the supplies. He looks over to Jim. “So you had a vision about the little spotty kids and the beast? You’re a precog?”

Visions? Carver eyes the man for a moment… but. The stuff in the bag is a pretty compelling argument. Doxycycline — exactly what the doctor ordered. Fair enough, visions it is.

What's got his attention more is that he's apparently planning to treat his own wounds. Carver regards him steadily for a long moment. He's clearly not exactly enthused at the idea of Jim treating his own wounds… on the other hand, the fact that he's got a bag full of doxycycline suggests that he knows something about medicine.

And it's not like he doesn't have other matters to attend to. That doxycycline isn't going to administer itself. "It looks funny because it's tailored to the illness," Carver says, opting to focus on Elsef; privately, he finds himself agreeing with Finn's assessment. "Different illnesses require different treatments; you'd not treat a cut the same as you'd treat an upset stomach. Well, what Roald and Stig have isn't pox — and I'm very glad of that. That's a scary illness, even for us doctors."

He hesitates for a moment longer, giving Jim's wounds a critical look; that look doesn't soften when he turns it to regard the man himself. Still, he does have other patients to look in on.

"What they've got is called typhus. It's dangerous, but not as dangerous as smallpox," Carver says, shifting his attention to the bag of medicine. "But it can still be deadly. And treating it requires some very potent medicine."

He pauses, his gaze coming back to Jim again. "If he looks like he still needs fixing when I get back, I have no problem with you watching," he states.

"But. I think that he's not as bad off as he looks," he says, looking back to Elsef. "And that's part of being a doctor, too. It's called triage — looking through the injured and judging who needs treatment the most, and trying to figure out how to save as many people as you can." For a moment, as he says that, Carver's eyes grow distant. "That's the hardest part of the job."

His eyes snap back to the present… or to whatever this is, anyway. "So. As soon as the nice lady comes back with some water, I'm going to go treat Roald and Stig. If you'll fetch me a pair of clean cups — and if you promise to do as I say — I'll let you watch from the doorway while I give them the medicine." He frowns as he considers for a moment. "And I'll tell you how to tell typhus from smallpox."

Probably more than that — successful treatment is going to require more than just the medicine, and he doubts he'll be here long enough to see it through himself. Elsef, being both sharp as a tack and speaking his language, seems like a good starting point for passing that treatment protocol along.

Dumortier makes sure he has a little distance between himself and the house once Carver has control of everything; a hand moves down his face and his brow furrows. His gaze is on the direction of the fresh musketfire, searching the jagged treeline. A look goes from the others outside and back to the trees; after a few runs of his tongue against the edge of his teeth and the inside of cheek, Rene wanders nearer to the trees. Searching, again, sapphire eyes bright.

Coming out of the treeline, Dumortier can see first the figures of Nicole and Yi-Min emerging from the woods. While it’s not clear what is wrong, he can tell that Nicole is assisting Yi-Min, her arm around the smaller woman’s waist as they make their way to the house.

Inside, Elsef listens with all the avidness of a star pupil, and she hurries off to find the cups and check on the water, chattering with Fru Nilsson just as the kettle begins to keen.

From that frontal angle, the issue with Yi-Min remains hard to pinpoint, apart from her face appearing abnormally ashen. As she nears with Nicole though, there are more telltale giveaways for Dumortier.

A lightly faltering quality in her otherwise firm, purposely unremarkable gait. A coppery odor: that of more blood.

"Sorry, Doctor Carver. I know you are popular today. But I may need you for a short moment—" Once the pair is over the threshold of the doorway and in a place to reasonably capture the old doctor's attention, she swivels a slim shoulder around, revealing a mess.

The region of Yi-Min's shirt just below the collar (including a section of her short hair) has been incisively ripped apart, as though somebody took up a large knife and slashed it across her back. Blood leaks brightly from the crevasse of opened-up flesh, and is now steadily dyeing the fabric below.

In a wryer, only slightly pained voice: "I would take care of it myself, but." She would have a rather hard time dressing a wound on her own back.

Once they’re inside, Nicole is maneuvering Yi-Min somewhere to sit. Once that herculean feat is accomplished, she takes the other woman’s hands on hers and gives them a squeeze. “You damn fool,” she curses, voice low since this chastisement is strictly for her benefit. “You should’ve just let it take me.”

Nicole lifts her head to regard the aged doctor. “Whatever you need, Dr. Carver. Just say the word.” Do they have enough supplies? Medicine? There’s certainly more than enough patients now, to be sure.

It's only a few moments after Nicole and the others are inside that Robyn finally returns, carrying a — well, a bucket of water. It was the best she could do here on short notice. "Pretty sure this came out of a well or something, so I'm not sure how cle-" She stops, still holding the bucket, as she sees more have arrived, eyes moving to Nicole, to Carver, and then to Yi-Min.

Huffing out a breath, the SESA agent seems to refute somewhat, shoulders slouching. "I'll go get more water," she remarks in a sullen tone, setting down the bucket and making her way back towards the entrance.

It becomes increasingly difficult to not pick up what's happening, even by spectating. Whatever they'd run into, they'd have overpowered it or they'd not be back in the pieces they are. Nicole and Yi-Min are given a concerned expression as they pass Dumortier on the way to the cabin. No sign of Kara yet, and some of the others aren't back in sight; he considers the treeline a little longer, and casts one look over his shoulder.

No eyes on him, which is perfect when he slips in between the pines to find Kara— and presumably, the rest.

Carver's lips thin the moment he gets a look at Yi-Min. That slightly ashen complexion and the slightly off quality of her gait are dead giveaways that something is wrong; he's seen the walking wounded before. Once he gets a look at the actual injury, he nods.

"Looks like you're going to get to see me fix someone after all, Elsef," Carver rasps. He sets the bag of medicine down, moving to look more closely at Yi-Min's wound. He lets out a low grunt. "Expect this to sting," he murmurs. He doesn't doubt that Fru Nilsson's brännvin will be a decent antiseptic, from the smell of it, but that doesn't mean it's going to be pleasant.

A good minute or two behind the door closing, it’s pushed open again. A hand enters first, followed by Chris — thankfully still attached to the appendage. He looks like he’d come face to face with one of those ghosts he’s complained about lurking in the woods. Not that he’s been spooked, but he definitely wouldn’t turn down a strong drink. Fortunately for everyone around he isn’t asking.

He’s chewing on whatever he found when he’d gone off to examine the cow, and those are some deep thoughts for someone who’s known for not being a deep thinker.

Chris’ entrance into the building stops abruptly after only a couple of steps through the door. He stares at Nicole, inches from tromping over her. He makes a sound, derisive or dismissive or maybe just unsure, but then he takes a slight step to the side to let her pass. Arms cross against his chest and he angles a look that better matches the grunt to the remaining and recognized travelers.

"What, and let you die for the sake of some Instagram photos?" Yi-Min rasps right back at Nicole, but the dry, airy tone is one of jest. She knows that hadn't been the SESA agent's intent, misguided as the action may have turned out.

Already as Carver is settling down to look, the Taiwanese woman is gingerly pulling down the material of her loose, bloodied shirt from behind so that he has unobstructed access to the skin of the dripping wound. "Lay it on me, doctor. I brought an IFAK with me, so you do not have to use your own supplies if you do not wish to. Here, inside the main pouch of my bag."

Gently, she uses one foot to prod forth the many-pocketed satchel she'd deposited on the floor just underneath where she had been made to sit.

The door opens once again, this time admitting the older of the Ayers. Corbin looks tired rather than deeply thoughtful, glancing around and scooting to the exterior of the room to stay out of the way of those with actual medical knowledge. Which is notably not him. “So did you guys actually see it?” The creature, he means. Cause while he’s not exactly thoughtful, he’s starting to form some ideas and theories.

It’s possibilities at least. “This Jersey Devil. It reminds me of something about a decade ago. Did you guys ever hear about the Montauk Monster?”

Two legendary monsters of the general area, obviously just stories, right?

Except when they suddenly are no longer stories.

“Yeah, we saw it. It’s like a bear if a bear had wings and a weird lower jaw with tusks. That shit was fucked up. And it sounded possessed, like it had two voices at the same time,” Finn says, where he’s playing scrub nurse to where Jim’s working on cleaning himself up. “I think I’ll hear that in my nightmares for a while.”

He nods to Jim and then Yi-Min. “It got both of them. Did you guys shoot the thing? Tell me it’s dead so I can sleep well ever again. Where’ve you two been? Scouting the local honeys?”

“We ran into the local witch woman,” is Chris’ answer for where he and Corbin had been. “Creeping up on us like… that snake Charity. She's… I don't know. The lights are on but no one's home.” That's probably the nicest way it could be put, not at all the way he'd normally describe the encounter.

He looks back at his uncle before continuing, like he'd just remembered on seeing the elder Ayers. “She was squawking about him though. Talking about some lady in red.” No mention of his own fortune though, that he only shakes his head at. “Told us to get out after, said something about a kon or Kon coming. Any idea what that might be?”

A bear? With wings? And tusks? Carver's expression is flat… but multiple witnesses are collaborating this. And to be fair, a goddamn chimera is actually significantly less weird than everything else about this situation. Alright. Winged tuskbear. Sure. That's a problem… but right now that particular problem is somewhere else, and he's got other problems on his plate right here. Like a wounded woman in front of him, and two boys with typhus.

Carver lets out a grunt of acknowledgement at Yi-Min's offer; she'd come prepared, and he counts that as a point in her favor. "I'll take you up on that," he rasps, moving around to look at Yi-Min's bag. Her kit is not difficult to find, thankfully; he pops it open and quickly verifies that everything is in good order (it is), then offers a quick nod of appreciation before moving back behind her to start working.

"Alright. Elsef, I'm starting," he calls. He grabs a piece of the linen Fru Nilsson had brought and applies a splash of the alcohol to it, doing his best to scrub his hands; soap and water would be better, but he doesn't entirely trust the water here — not for open wounds — and he doesn't want to do too much roaming around a house with typhus patients when he's going to be dealing with open wounds, either, even if he does judge the risk of contamination to be fairly low.

"First step: make sure your hands are clean," he rasps, setting the linen down. There are gloves in Yi-Min's kit, but he'd rather not use those for this. "Second step: stop the bleeding. In this case…" he pauses for a moment, frowning as he assesses the wound "…that seems to have already mostly happened. That's good." Because, judging from Yi-Min's pallor, she probably didn't need to lose too much more blood.

"Third step. The part no one likes. Gotta clean the wound." He picks up another piece of linen, applies some of Fru Nilsson's moonshine, and sets to work doing just that. "You want to make sure to get any foreign objects out of there, otherwise the wound might get infec — er, might start to go bad later," Carver corrects himself. His hands move with steady, practiced motions, carefully cleaning the wound… although getting Fru Nilsson's Private Reserve is probably not a particularly pleasant experience even so. Carver can't help that… but he can try to be quick about it, at least.

"When I get done with this, I'll apply a little more medicine to make sure the wound doesn't go bad. Dr. Yeh has something in her kit, here, that I can use for that, but if you were doing this you'd probably need to make a poultice or something. Honey works very well," Carver says, his eyes never leaving Yi-Min's wound as he cleans it.

Elsef turns at Chris’ chatter. “Kon means cow,” she says, eager to be helpful. “Didn’t you go look at the cow? The devil got it, bit its face off. Woulda done more but Herr Holmstrom shot at it and it scared off.”

Her eyes are wide when Carver draws her over, and she stares with rapt attention as he works, her not-so-clean hands held behind her back. “The drink is medicine?” she asks curiously.

There’s a frown as Corbin nods at the description of the creature. “So it’s like a creature that’s multiple creatures at once… Would there happen to be anyone in the region who— works with dead creatures? Taxidermy? Makes trophies or skins them or— ” He trails off. There’s definitely one Expressive in this region, and where there’s one— there’s possibly more. And this just felt like something that could be explained with an ability. Perhaps even one similar to things they had seen once a long time— in the future?

This time travel thing was confusing. And all they did was walk a few miles.

“There was a case not unlike this far from here, with animals that were made up of— parts of other animals. I never saw a live version of it, but…” He had seen a dead one. And it had been enough to spark an investigation. One he remembered, and thought about when the rats with abilities had become a thing not very long ago.

Jim looks around him now as Carver turns to work on the new arrivals, rummaging around in the bag he’s brought to get out stuff to clean his own wound. He seems to have recovered enough to do it — and his is much less serious. Triage! He winces as he starts removing his shirt to get at it better, but he seems capable of doing it even if it hurts.

However, when Finn comes back, he looks up to the other man and says, “I don’t know if the thing went down, but we have to get out of here soon. We have to go back to our own time, or we’re going to be stuck here.” He may have been a little vague about the details of his vision, but on that, he seems adamant. “I don’t know how much time is left exactly, but I don’t think it’s very much. We have to get back. Once the bubble disappears, it’ll be too late.”

Finn’s eyes widen and he turns to look over at where Carver works on Yi-Min. “You hear that, Doc? Not to rush art, or anything, but I think it’s time to get out of dodge, once you patch up everyone who needs it. I for one don’t want to live out the rest of my days in Medieval Times.”

History isn’t his strong suit.

Without knowing what was just being said, Thomas Cooper bursts through the door, missing his jacket and tie, but thankfully the rest is there. “Guys! We gotta go. The… ah…” He spots the non travellers in the group and stumbles over his words a bit. Clearing his throat, he tries to be a bit more delicate… “Well, it rhymes with lime double.” He looks at Robyn and Nicole in particular, hoping they get it. “It’s shrinking and I sure as hell don’t have a Delorean or a phonebooth in my back pocket.”

Through all of this, Yi-Min has been stoic and silent while her laceration is being attended to by Carver, only shaking her head with distinct displeasure at the revelation that there is more than one of the strange monstrosities. After taking a breath to wince at a particularly stinging daub at her back by the doctor, she adds her calm contribution: "Ours is not dead, no, but I rendered it unconscious. It should be taken care of for at least the next—"

The words are still in the process of leaving her mouth when Cooper comes ramming his way through the doorway into the house. Her dark eyes switch focus then, narrowing onto the sight of him. Lime double… Oh.

Oh, no.

"How quickly is this happening?"

“Oh that’s what she meant by hurry,” Corbin groans at the two who suddenly say they need to leave before the time bubble leaves them all stranded here. “This is why I dislike vague seers sometimes. Never know what they mean.” But at least with Jim and Cooper, they get it. Damnit, he wished he had time to think about this more. This whole thing is so familiar. What was his name?

This is why he hated that he relied so much on being able to access the files now. He knew where he would go to look at it, but he literally couldn’t, and it wasn’t like he could say ‘wait a minute while I run back to Fort Jay and look something up’. And he couldn’t even call Gerken or another Junior Agent to look it up for him.

“Someone made it. The creature.” Who. How. Why.

Would they have the time to do anything? Probably not. Part of him wanted to stay long enough to solve it, but— he glances at Chris. “We should get going.”

“Cow.” Chris echoes the Elsef and might seem willing to engage further, except for first Jim and then others — Cooper included there — start bursting about the time bubble closing. So he does what any reasonable unwilling time traveler would do and rubs his face with his hands. While sighing. And swearing inside his head. This whole situation requires it and more, but he's rationing now. If he gets stuck in this weird ghost ship of a village he might need to call on those reserves.

“Great.” Great. “And just how do we get home?” Chris looks around at everyone, ending with his uncle. “Because I hunted in these woods for most of a year. I can tell you all, this place hasn't ever been here in these spooky ass woods. How we even got here, following that Mats guy?” His hands raise in a gesture of how the hell does anyone know.

Carver's listening to everything that's happening. He understands the gravity of it, but none of what's being said changes the situation — namely, that he's got a job to do, and patients to treat. He doesn't look up from the messy wound he's cleaning, and when he speaks it's to Elsef. "It can be," he answers. "If it's used in the right way, and for the right purpose, it can be. In this case, the alcohol serves to clean the wound."

And it has, in Carver's estimation, just about got that job taken care of. "Now, we've got some ointment that should work to keep the wound from going bad," he says, moving briskly over to the bag of medicine and plucking out a tube of Neosporin; it's the work of seconds to smear some of the ointment over Yi-Min's wound. "And now, bandages. We want it tight enough that nothing can get in there, but we don't want to cut off blood flow or restrict movement any more than we have to," he lectures, rummaging in Yi-Min's kit for bandages and scissors.

“That… that is a good question,” Cooper says to Yi-min, shaking a finger at her thoughtfully. “Hold on.” He backs up out the door to where he can see the sky above him and just sits there for a long moment squinting at the sky.

It might seem weird, but it serves a purpose, because when Cooper steps in he seems a bit less stressed. “There isn't any visible shrinking when I watch. So not too fast. It’s been a bit since we got to the outskirts and I looked up…. Soooo…” He glances at Carver and then shrugs, “I’d say there is time for the doc here to finish up and time to make it out, at least.”

Out of the woods next to last is Dumortier; he doesn't worry about Kara being on his heels or not, but he is certainly giving the sky an uncertain stare when he makes it into the clearing of homes, sky unblocked by pines. Rene's balance seems to wobble some, caught between nerves of further what the fuck and the itch of flight at the soles of his feet. A fleeting memory of Detroit, too.

"Kara dispatched the- - gh, ours cochon volant- - " Rene doesn't seem sure what to call it, muttering the latter to himself. "Djur?" A short mime of a rifle, so hopefully anyone native listening in gets it. "We're ready to bail when you are."

“Jesus Christ,” Nicole mutters under her breath. “Okay.” Giving Yi-Min’s hands one last squeeze, she rises to her feet. We need to gather our things, gather ourselves, and head back to our own encampment. I think we’ve done enough meddling for the next couple of centuries.” She doesn’t want to find out what happens if the lime double becomes a lime nothing.

Crossing to where Corbin stands, Nicole lowers her voice, leaning toward him. “There’s… There’s no way there’s Fort Hero bullshit at play here, right?” Did some experiment from their time wander into the lives of these people? And more importantly, will it be left behind when the bubble pops, or will these devils continue to terrorize the Pine Barrens?

“Someone made it?” echoes Finn. “Like, SLC-E made it?” He glances over to Nicole. “Maybe the Montauk critter was a relative of the critters here. It’s not that far — two hundred miles or so, I-95 to I-495, if it were, you know, taking a car.”

The odds of a cryptid chimera taking a car are slim.

“Not that far given it’s what, uh, a 250-year commute,” he quips. He turns to Chris. “We just go the way we came, and hopefully end up in the 21st century.”

Carver’s handiwork assessed, Finn reaches for the kit. “I can patch her up — I’m actually a firefighter these days, got the basics — if you wanna go give the kids their spoonfuls of sugar and teach Elsef here how often to give them the rest,” he suggests.

Cooper can’t help but stare at Finn for a long moment. “Wait… you think those things bred and made that Montauk thing?” He looks at the door and seems to consider. “Kinda gross to think about,” his nose scrunching up at whatever he’s imagining, “but that Mats guy did say there was more than the one we saw.”

Turning back to the group, that look like he smelled a gnarly fart — or maybe it’s all ancient B.O. — is still there, Cooper asks, “Speaking of… Anyone else get weird vibes off that Mats guy?” A thumb is jerked at the door. “He’s pretty intense and I get we’re the strangers here, but… I kinda get the heebie jeebies when I’m around him.”

"Understood," Carver rasps at Finn's proposal. His eyes don't leave Yi-Min, though, as he applies the bandaging to her wound; his hands move quickly and deftly, and it's clear that this is a thing he has done many times before.

He does glance up at Cooper's question about weird vibes from Mats. "No," he rasps, his attention returning to Yi-Min. "Can't say as I did," he says, frowning. He finishes with the bandages, then takes a moment to look over his work with a critical eye… and nods. "There you go."

First objective complete. Second objective — get the kids dosed, tell Elsef what needs to be done, then make sure everyone gets the hell out of Dodge before there's no way back.

“Maybe he's just intense,” Chris says to Cooper while staring at Finn. Did the other man from Providence just discover water is wet? Did he miss the part about this village never being here before? Whatever, it's shrugged off and he looks at Cooper. “Probably just an old man thing. That whole get off my lawn attitude, comes with kidney stones and liver spots.”

Kara isn't far behind Dumortier at all, but she's been worlds away. Her thoughts are on the mystery of the beasts— and what's caused the time bubble to begin with. She's quiet as she keeps her spot near the door she's pulled closed behind her, looking up when the fact the beast was made was mentioned.

"The kid, Jepp, says it wasn't him that did it, but neither him nor Matts seemed … surprised when I asked if it was his doing," she voices quietly. "They didn't find it altogether unnatural." That much is said with something vaguely like apology shifted Dumortier's way. Perhaps if he had demonstrated his ability, maybe it would have struck up a sense of kinship instead.

But they hadn't known that for sure, and that risk was too great otherwise.

"Mats tried to shift the subject away, but who wouldn't…" Kara remarks to herself, and looking to Yi-Min catches sight of Elsef still caught up in the thick of them all. Everyone else talking as though there weren't concerns of someone belonging to the past being present hadn't made her think one would still be here. Well… Too late now to avoid it.

"If no one's sending chimeric beasts to Providence, and this border being open didn't accidentally allow an octobot here, maybe we take this little cultural exchange as a win and go home while we still can," she suggests as she makes her way to Yi-Min's side. She offers her a hand wordlessly, squeezing her partner's in a quiet gesture of support. "Live and let live?"

Dumortier doesn't need to state his opinions of Mats, Kara does a well enough job for the two of them. He gives Kara a side-eye for unnatural, though it ends with a double-shoulder shrug. He gets it. She was better safe than sorry.

"Cagey son of a bitch," is Rene's only addition on that matter. "I sure hope nothing went in or out besides us." He whisper-hisses, only to give a slight frown on catching Elsef's eye when Kara moves to Yi-Min's side. The little girl he only met somehow seemed to have struck a chord, because he gives her a crooked smile to chase off his bristling. "Watch over the land for me, would you?" Always playing up whatever he can.

"And take care of those boys, chere." Maybe they'll live long and happy even if time leaves their memories behind.

While everyone spoke, Corbin was doing his damnedest to remember the files, picturing it in his head. The case had been years ago and while he had been on the archives at the time and had filed all of the stuff by hand cause that’s what they did he still wasn’t directly on the case. He never met the suspect. It had been some kind of biological intuition ability? Dammit he wished Hokuto were here. She might remember. Who else had been the lead on that case? Sawyer?

He thinks Sawyer had been on it. Had she found him? Yeah, he thinks it had been Sawyer’s case.

“I doubt it’s the same Fort Hero stuff, but who knows— I’m trying to remember the case. The guy involved, he had some kind of biological ability. Like a frankenstein ability with animal corpses?” It was something like that. It’s the closest he could think of. A doctor frankenstein. With animals.

He’s muttering to himself a little as he’s trying to remember, picturing the file in his head and… Mats? “Mats was the guy we met outside, right?” he suddenly looks up, toward Nicole and Cooper. “Al— Alfred? Alvern? Shit. I— I think the guy in the Fort Hero case had the same last name. Or something very similar.” Like could they be dealing with his great great great grandpa? Great great great great great grandpa?

Yi-Min's expression skews slightly towards the skeptical when Dumortier arrives with the news that the beast is now dead, but the reaction remains a minor one. If Kara had seen fit to shoot the thing, then she trusts her partner to have made the correct decision.

The speculation about the origins of the beast makes her fall deeper into thought, even as she warmly squeezes Kara's hand in return and murmurs out a "Thank you," over to Doctor Carver. As though to test out the competency of his work, she flexes one of her shoulders back a small, experimental degree in the direction of the now bandaged-up wound.

It all seems quite solid, just from feel alone.

She's rather less certain about Kara's optimism, though. "That might just answer that," she states at Corbin, tone reflecting her lightly furrowed brow as she bends to pack up what remains of her IFAK and zip it back into her larger bag. "But we have no guarantee that traffic either way could not occur in the future. Particularly if the perpetrators of both beasts and bubbles are still out there, somewhere. It would be ideal to be able to stay here and document the latter further, but it seems— we don't have that option."

In lieu of the beast, though…

“Do we suspect this Mats person? Perhaps we can bring him back with us,” she suggests abruptly and clinically.

Carver's usual scowl twists deeper at Yi-Min's suggestion, eyes narrowing; his opinion of that suggestion is pretty evident on his face. "I think that's a poor idea," he says flatly. He glances over to Kara — she's been in the sandbox before, so hopefully she can elucidate why it's not a great idea to antagonize the locals here. Especially in the event that more bubbles ever occur.

Carver still has a job to do, and arguments aren't going to accomplish that. "Alright, Elsef. Let's go see to Stig and Roald," he says, picking up the medicine in one hand and the bucket of water in the other. "Bring the cups."

Kara winds a look back to Yi-Min with a rough shake of her head. "Everyone stays where they need to stay," she puts forward resolutely. After, her attention drifts back to the SESA agents with them, hoping for some kind of consensus to be found with them.

Corbin in particular seems onto the mystery with something other than heebie jeebies, so she poses quietly, "Don't suppose in this other case of yours the frankenanimals did any harm, or there was something else nefarious going on?"

They at least had another minute to chat on it before Carver came back from treating the boys.

“And do what with him?” Finn asks, curiously. He’s not as against it as Kara, but Kara’s disapproval makes him press his lips together and frown. “I mean, that’s a really bad idea,” he says sternly, shaking his head — then nodding with a smile behind Kara. If she looks back again, he’ll swap back to that disapproving glower.

Elsef gets the cups as bidden, and follows Carver like the tiniest and most avid scrub nurse imaginable.

“Oh, there was definitely nefariousness going on. This was during a time when the Company was falling apart from the inside. It was one of our own who was involved, even. I don’t think it’s the same person, but possibly a… relative,” Corbin says with a frown, looking over at the thought of taking them with them. He looked old enough he’d probably already passed on whatever genes needed to preserve that timeline at least, but it still worried him.

“Some things run in families.” A descendant could have gotten a similar ability, and even similar insanities, really. He really was trying to remember how that case ended up. “It was a rough time in the Company back then. A lot was going on and almost all of it was going very wrong.” Like lately, it would seem. This was not a good trend to get back to. “We may not have time to ponder our possibilities if what they say is true, though.” Meaning Cooper and Jim. “I don’t know about you, but I like home.”

He liked cellphones and electricity and computers and running water and basic human hygiene.

And he worried about Hokuto if he didn’t go back too.

"Oh, we wouldn't keep him, necessarily. We could likely throw him back into a time bubble anytime, after all." Yi-Min remains no less offhanded in tone. She straightens up in her seat, pack fully zipped now. "But it may be fruitful to question him further about what is happening. We do not exactly have the time for it here."

Especially if he turns out unwilling to answer, as the implication seems to be that he already has been.

“Here's what I think.” Not that anyone has asked Chris’ opinion on the matter of bringing back an extra person — for all he knows, they may need Mats in order to get out again since he was the one to get them into the village in the first place — but he's going to offer it anyway. Hold onto your butts. “I think the only souvenirs anyone is bringing back are the sorts that fit into pockets or shopping bags.” Clearly the old man in question doesn't fit that bill.

However. “I'm not opposed to a little que-and-ay on the way out. If that's what's wanted, let's invite him to see us back to the forest where he found us.” Chris looks first at Yi-Min, then glances around at everyone else who's immediately nearby. “That's what I say.”

At some point, Robyn has return through the door, been relieved of her second bucket of water, and moved to join her other SESA agents, a curious look on her face as she takes up position next to Nicole. "Or no souvenirs," is her input, finally breaking her silence. "Given the… situation, we don't know what issues that may cause inside or outside of this…."

Her voices lowers as she closes her eyes and shakes her head. "Disturbance." It's clear this is not developing in a way she's thrilled about.

The idea of dragging the creature back to their time gets considering look, but then Cooper shakes his head. “I agree with Robyn. If we take it back, what’s the reason? ‘Cause it looks cool? The bubble is shrinking and I’m not sure we can help them in time.” For him at least it was too much of a risk. “And even if we found whoever it is… what do we do? Arrest them and drag them to lock up? They’d probably have a heart attack before we get there.” It’s a place out of time without all the comforts.

“That being said, I personally don’t want to run into this person… whoever it is before they decide we are the next to be changed into…. I dunno… a Minotaur or something.” Cooper motions at the door meaningfully, like lets go. “Not to mention Al needs me.” That’s right. A guinea pig needs him. He feels more concerned about his pet than whoever made the pig bear.

“Whatever’s happening here,” Nicole reasons, “has probably already happened.” Which is a cyclical enough argument to inspire an instant headache. Do things resolve because they always happened upon this situation and intervened? Or are they creating a fork in timelines because they’re here now? Will they step on a butterfly and find the lives they knew wiped out by a hurricane upon their return?

This entire situation is far less Excellent Adventure and way more Bogus Journey.

“We need to leave this alone.” She hopes that’s the right call to make. Nicole looks to Corbin to back her up. “If this man is a relative, it’s likely he needs to stay right here in order for… things to play out the way they need to.”

With Nicole’s call, Corbin nods slowly. He may be skeptical about leaving it alone, but— she’s probably right, whatever had happened in the past had happened and the less they did here the better. They knew that time travel actually could affect things, and the last thing they wanted to do was go home and find out it wasn’t home anymore.

“Getting home is our top priority,” he does agree with, though, either way. He was starting to wish he’d listened to her order the first time and not all gone in, but at the same time— well— she alone might have had a difficult time, even with the assistance of the Providence natives.

Finn shrugs at Yi-Min in a 'what can you do' sort of way — he'd have helped drag back Mats if she hadn't been shot down by the others. "Probably easier that way. Can't we just take the DeLorean back to the future?" he says. He nods to the lady of the house before making his way to the door, opening it for the rest. "Meet us outside, Doc," he calls up to the man saving lives upstairs.

Fru Nilsson rushes forward, a small handbasket covered in muslin in her hands, which she pushes into Finn's hands. "Gudhastighet," she murmurs, then with effort, "Godspeed."

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