Rachel came to, more and more with each passing moment. Her own sense of curiosity was stagnant, only willing to grow upon itself. What was going on? Where was she? Her first thought was to allow instincts to set in and get out of here. To go right back home and never look back. But she took those extra moments to look around. Her own gaze traveling around her, as she moved to stand up. This place didn't look anything like home. Not just the buildings, but so much more there. This didn't look natural, this didn't appear Earthly. Yes, there were buildings, there was a civilized appeal to it, but it wasn't right. It wasn't all together either. Some variant of destruction that had been seen through.
All through this, something called out to her. It settled in the back of her mind. Here she was trying to understand, cope, and accept what all of this meant, but she didn't have a clue of her own. None other than the memories in the back of her mind. They weren't dormant, they were what had to have brought her here. A call to it that allowed for some pathway to be created. The kind of pathway she didn't know how to reuse here.
There was that panic over the unnatural. All of these things that she had learned once upon a time, as far as the memories spoke. It wasn't her, but it was. The motions, the body she was in. The point-of-view held, it made them her own. There was a strong familiarity here, and it became a slow realization of where she was. Home. This was supposed to be her home. According to everything she had been through, where she was, why she was here. Something had sparked, and she wanted to be home. That place in her dreams, in her memories.
This wasn't home though. Not for her. Not for anyone in a long time, by the looks of it. Barren in the way it should be. Her eyes closed as she tried desperately to go back. Rachel needed to leave this place, she had to go home. Her actual home. He wasn't here this time. Was he okay there? What would happen without her there? It wasn't working. Something was stopping her, not allowing her to go back. What was she doing wrong? What was she going to do here? How would she eat? Looking down at her state of dress, a cut off shirt and a pair of shorts. What she went to bed in. All dirty from the ground, even where her dark hair fell upon her shoulders.
Feet lifted off the ground as she levitated herself. Internally reaching out to the world that was now around her. Whatever this place was. Azarath. It meant so little to her, but more to someone else. She didn't remember anything but this place being whole. Pieces of it all trickling through. Drop by drop, where to go, who she would need to speak to. But there was nothing and no one. An empty place of pacifists that held all the stories she could ever have expected as a child. A mother that she wished had been her own, in a way, but not in so many others.
She couldn't feel anything, but herself. Alone in her own thoughts and it was the nicest gift she could have ever been given. But it wasn't right. Something was very wrong here. She didn't want to be here. As much as she enjoyed being alone, there was that question about him. There were so few people in her life, but it was him that always came up. She had known him forever, and after everything, he was left alone. What if this place held a different place in time? She couldn't recall, not from the memories. What if more time flew by, or if it slowed? Her training happened here, what if it held more to her abilities than she realized, outside of that supposed father. The man or demon that created what she was. This part of her that cried out to be let go here.
Struggling here, she didn't want to close the distance, to move towards or into the city. She wanted to go home. This wasn't home. This was some empty skeleton of a place that held memories of a childhood that wasn't her own. It battled against her own childhood memories. The specific ones that came from Palo Alto. Different families, different family types, the way that people looked at her though. There was a similar feel to it. The way she was judged, but only some people saw something else in her. So few, but the ones that mattered, that cared. They were worth keeping. A mother. That burned her through and through.
Her own, having run like a coward. Choosing herself over her own daughter. A life that could have been led differently, in a realistic and nurturing way. The type that mothers were supposed to give daughters. In a world of supposed-to-be's, Rachel always felt at a loss. Words held meaning, words meant more than most things. People proved themselves through actions, yes, but also in words. They held significance and they were thrown about like they held none by too many. Manipulation and distaste for anything other than gaining what a person wanted. It was like her mother all over again, or even her father. She had been left on her own, no better than she was here. But this wasn't anyone's choice, it wasn't even her own. She needed to get out of here.
This felt like a hopeless circumstance that she was staring in the face of. Yes, she had suddenly made it here, but did she hold the ability to actually get back? Was there something she needed to do? Hovering over the ground, she began to move against her own wants and desires here. If there was worth anything there before her, she had to go and look. Find out if there was anything there that could help her get back. Teleporting from one place to another. Had she abused it so much that she ended up here now? Crossing some great divide that was a dimension? She had to be missing something. Why did she always feel like she was missing something? A large, blinking, bright sign overhead with instructions. It was never there for her, never allowing her to know or realize what was next. She couldn't even figure out how to handle her emotions better, how to balance and live within that balance. Her own feelings and keeping herself together. If she couldn't do that, how in the world was she supposed to do this? There was a whole new world in front of her, and she hadn't a clue on how to go about anything. She was all alone. Once again, she was all alone.
There was destruction marring far too many walls, telltale signs of things she didn't fully understand. At the same time, it was easy enough to surmise what went on. Their greatest fears come to life. The passage being opened, allowed, the gateway he needed to do as he wished. The end of everything, in a way she would have never wanted. Fighting for nothing. So maybe she was right, maybe there was another direction to go. To take everything she held and to work with this somehow. Ways that she had yet to come up with, but something had to give.
Fingers continued to graze the grooves in the walls as she slowly made her way through. Eyes looking above her, taking in all the damage and what was left there. Memories still coming back to her, in ways she didn't expect, nor had she wanted. It was like her dreams. Almost identical, but the state, the way she recalled it, fuzzy in the same way. Coming back to her, like something she had lost, but it wasn't hers. None of this was, yet it was. That bothered her most, outside of being stuck here for now.
Feet found their bearing, reaching the ground softly, leading the way towards the center of it all. It felt as if she knew where she was going, but she wasn't sure she did. The confusion was outlying everything else, but she refused to fear anything here. She refused most things, including the way that her stomach argued against her, the way her head was beginning to pound due to that argument. The slight chill that ran up her, from the clothing she was left with.
There was this eerie feeling there that made her feel like she was missing something still. The what, she didn't know. It wasn't as though she was expecting someone to pop out of a corner out of nowhere. There may have been a silent hope, to a degree, but she wasn't wanting a fight. Pausing, she closed her eyes, trying to force out mentally, to see if she could reach anyone, here or otherwise. But there was still nothing. Everything was still the same. This place, the way she had seen it from afar. Moving more towards the middle of the path, she was away from everything there. The center of everything. A lost place, for a lost soul. Wasn't that the similar story her own mother had given her about this? Raven's mother. Shaking her head, she swallowed hard. This wasn't going better. How far away was she with this whole parallel world? If she could get here, something had to give.
She was bad at this meditation thing. That didn't stop her from trying, but she was. It was worse to admit that she did it, to anyone. It was embarrassing, for her. It made her feel weak, like she was crumbling backwards, from the feet up. Like rocks that were chipping and disintegrating, a rock slide to fall into a pile of nothing. It was enough to have to deal with people, let alone by choice. There were enough choices that she should have let be. Not bothered with and allowed it all to change and shift without her. Caring was the last thing she needed on her plate. There were too many that hadn't earned it, and yet, there was her heart. The same as the meditation, she didn't want to admit to having one. Let it be black rather than burdened. Uncaring and unfeeling.
There was a chill that ran up her and she couldn't do this anymore. She was hungry, cold, and tired. Moving towards other paths and doorways, she might as well see if there was anything here worth using or keeping. Maybe with a clearer, more level head, she could work through this and figure out whatever trigger that it was that led her here. Use it to get back, to find a way home. If he were here, it wouldn't bother her so much. To be gone, away from everything, other than the fact that there was nothing here for her or them.
Everything looked so old, yet so new. It was a place that felt like that too. Nothing like home, with how everything held that classic affect to it. Days of old met a future unwilling to be yet told. Bright and glistening of new life and technology, once upon a time. Varying beliefs, possibly even conflicting, given what she recalled of her knowledge of Trigon. The demon who had a home just past a specific door. She had to know, remember what door. Maybe it could be used to get home? If she couldn't do this herself. She had to get back. Rifling around in another's belongings, it felt odd. Not that they were going to need them or want them again. No better or worse than anyone else that lived or died. What use did they hold now?
This felt wrong, but wait, were they really dead? She didn't know. There was no way to know. There was no one here, just her. For as hard as she tried, it was only her. This was so aggravating. What could she do, other than take what was useful. She could always leave a note behind, but there was no money to leave. Would that even matter here either? Would it be the right language? Rachel wanted to punch things. Opening a door, she found clothes, but nothing that would fit. Of course, she was far too small here. She was far too small everywhere. But the robe, that would fit anyone. Unisex.
Not dusty, but it did make her sneeze. The way it hung over her shoulders, tying it and clasping it where it was needed. Warm at least. She could hold it to her small frame and not feel the need to shiver. It wasn't that it was so cold or some odd winter months, but it was more that morning chill that you would come face to face with walking out the door. Now if only she could find some food and maybe that door. Turning and looking back, her brows moved up, lips puckered in thought. Indoor plumbing. Nice perk.