The Eternal Question

Advanced seeming technology had been noticed around... Sylvie took a minute to convert the coordinates into ones that the TemPad could take, and opened up a portal, prepared to step through.

The other side wasn't what she expected. She'd started to get a feel for how Midgard looked, the buildings and wilderness, and this place wasn't it. The walls were too dark, and the material just seemed off. It wasn't familiar to her at all.

Sylvie paused, then, taking it in. There were glimmers, threads of light that sometimes came into view over the walls, as if they were rotating through higher dimensions. Sometimes she just glimpsed them out of the corner of her eye, but they didn't seem to always be there. The walls and floor felt cold, but the air itself was pleasant enough.

Had she gotten the place wrong?

She tripped over a bottle of coke. Catching herself on the wall, she looked down - okay, right world, probably. Maybe just the wrong time?

She walked forwards and reached the end of the corridor to see a dark-skinned woman slouching on something between a chair and a throne. She had dark hair, tightly braided and pulled back, looping back casually over a bare shoulder. And speaking of bare, there wasn't much else covering her - she had a book on her lap, and was idly flicking through it, her breasts hidden by her upper arm more by luck than judgement. Bare legs kicked up over the chair's arm, as she lay back.

All around her was junk - an assortment of books, trinkets, everything from weapons to lamps and artwork.

Sylvie quirked an eyebrow. Absorbed in whatever she was reading, the women on the throne didn't notice her immediately.

"I guess asking what you've got stored around here wouldn't be much use," Sylvie said.

The woman didn't answer - or didn't hear. It was only when Sylvie took a step closer, eyeing the assortment of artifacts, that she looked up. An involuntary squeak escaped the stranger's lips, halfway falling out of her chair as she swung her legs down, sending her book flying as she crossed an arm over her breasts.

The woman glowered at her. For a moment, she sat there stiffly, head twitching a little as she seemed to debate where to run. After a moment, stiffly and clearly she embarrassed, she moved her arms at alarming speed to form a few signs, then hastily slapped them back into place to try and hide behind.

It took Sylvie a second to realise it was language - the advantage to enchantment was picking up stray bits of trivia, and apparently that sign language was among it.

What the hell are you doing here?!

"Trust me, long story," Sylvie said. She paused. "Not looking to fight. Not you anyway."

Sylvie paused. The woman continued to stare at her, annoyed.

"I'm Sylvie?" Sylvie said.

The woman signed again, spelling out a few syllables. Makkari.

"Well, hi," Sylvie said. "Don't suppose you have anything stored here that'd be useful against irritating bureaucrats from outside of time?"

Makkari looked at her, still annoyed, but interestingly not entirely taken aback. Then again, she was living in some weird, advanced technological home, even if she was leaving it a mess. Sylvie made a mental note of that for later, even if one other question was on her mind.

"Okay why _are _you naked?" Sylvie said.

Makkari flushed. She signed so hastily it was hard to make out.

You spend a few centuries on a ship and tell me you feel bothered getting dressed every year.

Centuries? Huh. Longer life than most Midgardians. Makkari didn't look away, flustered and apparently far from overjoyed by her visitor, but not wanting to rush from her seat to try and find clothing,

Then again, Sylvie spotted something on the wall - she didn't know the exact technology, but she'd seen its ilk. Some weirdo who'd visited Asgard when she'd been a kid had shown off something similar. Stand by it, and it would weave a fancy outfit out of seemingly nothing.

If that was where she got her clothes from, that would explain why she was so still. If she'd been here that long, Sylvie knew too well how effectively time wore away at outfits - that might be her only way to dress, and it would require standing still with her arms by her sides for a bit too long.

"If it helps," Sylvie said. "Been there."

Unsuprisingly, Makkari didn't seem to think it was worth flashing Sylvie to respond. Sylvie took the chance to glance around the room; this was advanced, especially for Midgard. Maybe a ship? It certainly didn't seem native.

It was a promising lead though. Sylvie peered down the back of a pile of looks, spotting what looked like souvenirs - old relics, places and dates noted down for the memories. Whoever owned this ship looked like they'd been here a while. It was something to bear in mind if she was looking for a way to strike back.

Sylvie looked back to Makkari; the naked woman was still on her chair, an arm over her breasts and a hand on her lip. All things considered, Sylvie reflected, she preferred being on this side of it.

There was a flash as a portal opened, a yellow doorway etching itself in the air: both Makkari and Sylvie suddenly looked towards it, Sylvie with informed wariness, and Makkari with panic at another intruder upon what was clearly supposed to be alone time.

"Ha! Told you it'd be another, pay up," one TVA guard said.

There was a streak in the air for a moment - Sylvie did a double take. Okay, Makkari was fast; the woman shot forwards, apparently planning to get behind the portal and see what was there, who was invading her ship (and realistically, nab a change of clothes while she was there rather than waiting for the ship to create a uniform around her).

Instead, she made the mistake of crossing the threshold of the TVA, and the blur and symbols that momentarily surrounded her suddenly sputtered out. She stumbled, eyes wide, and Sylvie got an eyeful of her butt as a TVA agent grabbed her.

"Huh," Sylvie mused. "Wasn't even my fault this time."

Quickly, she hit the emergency command on her spare TemPad, darting back through it before the TVA could follow; she closed the doorway behind her, then waited a few moments in case they were pursuing.

Well that had been... weird. Still, she'd learned something. Before she'd even caught her breath, Sylvie was typing out coordinates; she knew that the owners of that ship had been on Earth in the past, and she'd seen an indication of a few dates they'd been present at. She could head there, pick something up, and start preparing her counter-attack on the TVA.

She paused. Saving that destination, she opened up a portal to an old one again, stepping back into Xialing's club.

Well, she had planned to come back here a few times. It was disappointing that her old shirt now only existed in a pruned timeline, but she was more than decent enough. When Xialing walked through into the backroom, Sylvie waved. Seeing her as a strange intruder, Xialing regarded her warily.

The impromptu fight only lasted a minute before the TVA's arrival, but every little helped. Detour aside, Sylvie stepped through the next portal into Earth's past.

There was a pyramid standing tall in the background, steps rather than slopes making up the sides. She could see smoke going up into the sky, and the flicker of flames against the night. She really did just pick the most cheerful of destinations; still, hopefully the conflict would mask her tracks.

Sylvie cautiously moved forwards, looking around. There was a dirt path, worn down from use; she moved onto it. If anyone was here, she'd stand a better chance of finding them if she followed the signs of movement. Advanced aliens, potential weapons...

And then a monster went crashing across the path, snapping whole trees in half; there was a woman chasing after it, leaping through the air - she wore pale gold, armour that flashed with runes etched in light, and a spear in her hands that didn't seem made of anything physical. Still, it was real enough; she landed with it pointed down, hitting the creature as it gave a last wail, and was still.

The blonde stopped, stepping off the monster, and turned; her gaze settled on Sylvie, and the spear vanished from her hands.

Huh. Yeah, that probably counted as advanced.

"You're safe," the blonde said. She paused. "Have you seen any more of them?"

She sounded almost anticipating a positive answer. Well, to each their own, Sylvie supposed; still, she felt a little disappointed. There was a little magic to how that technology worked, by the look of it, not dissimilar to Asgard's own science. Not much practical use.

"I just got here," Sylvie said. "Say, do you have anything to fight with that isn't... well, that?"

"All of us have our own gifts," the woman said. She lifted a hand; runes sparked into life in the air around her wrist, a small shield forming. "Why, do you like it?"

Well, if she was inviting it...

Sylvie stepped closer, under the guise of looking at the pseudo-magical shield, and let her hand brush the woman's.

"I'm Thena," she said. "You?"

Sylvie focused, slipping her mind through the cracks to enchant, intent on getting what knowledge she could.

What she got, however, was a splitting headache. Sylvie gasped, pulling back, reeling; that was not a normal mind. She grimaced, then hastily straightened, well-aware she'd just failed to brainwash a gifted warrior who could pull swords out of thin air.

"Er," Sylvie said. "I can explain."

Thena's eyes suddenly looked different; Sylvie frowned.

"Thena?" Sylvie said.

Thena didn't answer. Mute, almost robotically, she stretched out her hand and summoned an alarming-looking sword. Sylvie took a step back; this didn't seem normal. Some misfire, some malfunction, triggered by her attempt at enchantment. That wasn't great.

Thena thrust the sword forwards; Sylvie quickly sidestepped, suddenly on edge. Great, alien warrior-lady was trying to kill her.

"Hey!" Sylvie said.

Thena slashed; Sylvie ducked back, narrowly avoiding it, the tip of the blade just damaging her shirt. More indignantly, Sylvie glared.

"Hey!" Sylvie said again. "Do you know how hard it was to end up with this?!"

Thena didn't seem interested or able to reply, a gleam in her eyes as her light-traced sword cut again, once more narrowly missing Sylvie. It caught the trailing edge of her shirt and sliced through it like it was nothing.

Okay. Staying here did not seem worth it. Sylvie stumbled back, her stolen shirt flaring up in front of her. Thena said something incoherent; Sylvie span around. Nope. Nope, she was not saying in the same time and place as the maniacal swordswoman with the bizarre mind.

Then slashed again, opening a slit in the back of the shirt - loosened as it was, it flew up all the more freely, baring Sylvie's abdomen and giving Thena an easy target. Hastily, Sylvie fumbled with a TemPad, remarkably confident anywhere was better than here.

A portal opened. She ran through, closing it as soon as she could and separating herself from Thena - she felt the tip of the energy-blade touch her back, sliding through a gap in her top; the flat of the blade pulled back, catching under her collar.

The portal snapped shut; the blade dissipated to nothing, separated from its wielder. So too, was her ragged shirt sliced again, the back half vanishing into another time. With nothing to support it, the tattered front half of the shirt slid off of Sylvie's body.

"Oh come on!"

Sylvie crossed her arms over her bra, cross in a whole other way. Okay, if she was going to investigate those strange, advanced people, it might be better to ensure the blonde wasn't around.

Or she could do something else first. Sylvie stretched, grimacing; tehre was no salvaging the shirt as it was. It was little more than a flat strip of fabric, with holes and tears in now, and by the look of it she couldn't even wrap it completely around her chest. It wouldn't even have served as an impromptu bag with how damaged it was.

Sylvie muttered another, particularly vile Asgardian curse directed at the blonde, then exhaled, picking up her TemPad.

Well, she'd travelled through time in less. Unfortunately.