He doesn’t immediately rise from the bed, though. For it is still cold outside, and there’s nothing better than to cuddle beneath a warm heap of feathers and a woolen blanket. It’s pure bliss. After a while Daniel notices that he isn’t lying in his and Gavin’s bed. He dimly recalls having rented a room the night before, pretty far into the night, too. But the reason for doing so escapes the man’s memory. Daniel only knows it must have been a good one. Everything feels right, as things should be.
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Eventually Daniel pushes back the blanket. His Sulani-style wrap and the woolen jumper provide some protection against the cold, but what would really do the charm now, is a Full English breakfast. If whatever guest house they have ended up in doesn’t offer that treat, then Daniel is ready to invade the kitchen and fry one up by himself.
“Hey, Gavin, do you fancy blackpudding with your breakfast? And would you like toast or fried bread?”
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“Hey, Gav… veeeeeeeeeeeeen?!”
This is the point where Daniel realizes that the brunette dozing next to him is not his husband, but Connor Anderson. Has he just slept with Connor? Well, of course he has. But has he just slept with Connor?!
“There better not be a baby”, Daniel groans. “That would mess the family tree up beyond salvaging.”
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“Baby?” Connor mutters. “Do you mean to say that we just woohoo’d, Daniel?!”
“Well, we woke up in the same bed with our memories scrambled. What do YOU make of that, detective?”
“I honestly have no idea. Kara and me don’t generally do… that.”
“Say what?”
“Between the two of us, you always were the more humanlike. I don’t even have the required parts plugged in at the moment.” Already Connor moves his hands to loosen the knot of his girdle, thinking nothing of the action. “Look, I’ll show you!”
“Noooooo!” Daniel almost screams. “No need to!!! I believe you!”
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“But why would we share a bed, Connor? That’s pretty suspicious, don’t you think so, too?”
“Not if we really ended up in the last cycle of magic. In the 19th century guys shared beds way more casually than in our time. It wasn’t thought of as inherently romantic.”
“No kidding?”
“No kidding. The only worrying part is how readily we follow the customs of this time. It is as if it was trying to pull us in, to override our real memories and even personalities.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“Focusing on the thought of Family Echo crashing when we try to add the baby we definitely haven’t made last night to the family tree. Terribly missing Gavin in your case, Kara in mine. Things like that, any strong emotion should do.”
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Strong emotions are something that comes easier to Daniel than to Connor. In their own time the teacher is much more susceptible to slamming his fist on his principal’s desk than the detective is to yell at a suspect. However, in this time their roles seem to be reversed. When the duo takes turns sponge bathing at the sink, Daniel’s movements are deliberate and restrained, while Connor seems itchy, as if he couldn’t get out of town quickly enough.
“My land legs are worn off, Daniel”, the detective claims. “I really need to take to sea again soon!”
“No, you don’t!” Almost desperately Daniel gesticulates in front of the other. “Connor, try to remember, you are not interested in sailing at all! The most you did in this regard was joining Gavin and me on a steamboat tour on Lake Erie a full two years ago.”
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“Why are you looking at me like this? It’s the truth.”
“Your facepaint… It re-attached itself while you were dressing!”
This early the only other person present is a seaman.
A flock of sea gulls scours the boardwalk for scraps. The older gentlemen’s gaze rests on the birds as if trying to recall something important regarding them. But it won’t come back, so he shakes his head and walks on.
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The men briefly turn their heads when they pass by the seaman. He obviously is middle aged and looks relaxed. But then again he is ALSO Rika Mack. And they are… they are… Well, who are say? For a moment his own name escapes Hank Anderson. It takes all the focus he can muster to remember that came here voluntarily. But even so much as reaching out to Rika to remind her at this fact feels impossible. Their feet aren’t externally controlled, but even so the trio is free to walk the path they choose within certain limits only.
Realizing he has come way too close to the sea gulls already, Hank takes a sharp turn left. Flock birds of all kinds, especially pigeons, make the man uncomfortable. At least they did so in Detroit.
So much for free will, Hank muses. Even when he is himself, invisible forces direct his actions to no small degree.
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Hank and… whoever that is by his side… approach the Inn. A pot of hot tea would do them much good now.
“Did you see the sign, Fe… Con… Siggy?”
“The one saying “Smoking and Suicide prohibited”? Yeah.”
“I think we should make this Inn the base for our investigations. With the ban in place, there is no risk for me to relapse.”
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“Relapse? You mean you quit smoking?”
“What the heck gave you that idea? Of course not!”
“…oh.”
Is there potential for empathy in Sigstein? Does he feel for his companion in the light of what he has just learned about the man’s past? Siggy cannot tell himself. All he knows is that the realization served to root them both deeply again. He is Sigstein Connor, the Chief of Security of the Magic HQ that orbits Earth about halfway up to the moon. And for good or ill the old geezer next to him is Hank Anderson, former Captain of the Detroit Police (central station). Unfortunately two sources of identity simultaneously whisper to the spellcaster that Hank is his boss.
Hank and Sigstein enter he Inn, followed by the seaman.
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A while later Connor and Daniel come down the stairs to the breakfast room. They hear the Landlady snarl at a gentleman and his companion that have just entered: “Codfish or Mussel?!”
With a wry smile the gentleman’s turban-wearing servant answers: “The Captain? Mussel. Definitely mussel.”
This doesn’t translate well into English. In German Mussel is Miesmuschel, a word that can refer to a gloomy person (like Hank).
“She asked what we want to eat. - We’ll have buttered toast, thank you very much.”
After a curtsy the landlady vanishes into the kitchen. The woman’s whole body language reveals that opting for “other” after getting presented your breakfast options usually doesn’t fly well with her. But there is a definitive deference for the gentleman, who seems to be well known and equally well respected in town not just because of his social status. Well, those strangers have their problems and Connor has his. But maybe the buttered toast eater can help him and Daniel find their way around this time, so the Detective makes a mental note to approach him later.
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Several guests already sit at the tables, digging in heartily. They seem incredibly familiar to Connor, but then again are total strangers to him. He and Daniel take seats next to a seaman.
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“No bacon for breakfast - this is your fault”, Hank grumbles, as he munches on his warm toast with jam. “It’s been six years since my fishification by your hands and I still get nauseated by the idea of eating meat.”
The whole fishification debacle happened in this challenge (linked are the most important outtakes only): https://enkisstories.tumblr.com/tagged/fishification/chrono
Suddenly a man at the adjacent table explodes into shouting. Every second word he sputters is profanity, some four letter words, some more descriptive.
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“For the last time, I’m not going to leave the table before Rika, because she “outranks” me! First, I’m not finished yet, second half of my brain thinks it doesn’t even know who that Rika person is and third she is the receptionist, while I’m the Captain! So who outranks whom here, ey? Now you bunch eat up and when everyone is finished, we leave the table sorted by rank. I’ll call each one’s name when it's your turn.”
The DPD counselor has a profile of every cop that assigns them four traits and one of Gavin’s is “Ambitious”. Reaching the top of a career, pretty much any career, it didn’t have to be police work, had been the man’s lifetime ambition. Any doubting him in this regard is akin to a personal attack against the proud detective. No spellcaster, cop or deity must get away with such behavior. The attempt alone suffices to firmly root Gavin in his 21st century identity – at least for the time being.
“Geeze lousy, what a kindergarten… If this is what Danny has to deal with every day at work, then I envy him even less.”
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Upon hearing his nickname, Daniel turns his head towards the noise – and looks into the face of his partner beneath a crown of red. Daniel often jokes that he loves Gavin for his “inner beauty”, him being attracted to red hair and Gavin carrying a recessive allele for that from his mother. Under no circumstances should it have expressed itself though, not even in a magic infused world.
“Gavin? Gavin James Reed?”
Gavin stares, blinks, and then smiles wide.
“Danny! Right in time – your class trip kids are getting a little stressful here.”
His beloved… his marriage… everything comes back and now Daniel knows that whatever this time is going to throw at him, it won’t be sufficient to make him forget Detroit or his identity again.
“Oh my god, Gavin, you’re looking more adorable than ever!”
“You do, too, pity the same can’t be said for your makeup. C’mon, Danny, admit defeat. We aren’t guys for makeup. It’s just not our style.”
“Haha, you again!”
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The husbands leave their tables and fly into each other’s arms.
“I missed you so much…” Daniel whispers.
“I didn’t miss you. Can you imagine that? You were just… gone from my memory. There was no heartache… But I’d rather feel miserable all the time than forget you!”
At the adjacent table Sigstein abruptly stops chewing. What if he has a romantic partner back in the future, whom he doesn’t remember either? It’s certainly a possibility, and a very likely one, too. But what if he is attached to that person to the same degree as these two are to each other, who are shedding actual tears at their reunion? Now THAT idea is outlandish, but it opens a can of worms: Sigstein has to consider everything he isn’t interested in or bad at as something that he excels at or cherishes, and just has forgotten. It’s intimidating and he decides to not voice this concern to his companions, lest it renders them all incapable of acting.
Siggy is currently wooing Oliver, the Landgraab’s butler, to keep the mob/vampire conspiracy under supervision and has reciprocated feelings for the evil mermaid Kalamainu’u Iona.
“Actually”, Chris speaks up, but Daniel has to look twice to recognize the detective in his new role, “…this isn’t Dorothy Reed’s red hair gene, but whoever this guy’s mother was.”
The couple has changed from their first, desperate kiss to a relaxing backrub now.
“This guy’s…?” Daniel asks. “Someone other than Gavin, you mean?”
Chris nods. “It took a while to sink in”, he admits, “because at first I was wrapped up by the idea of re-living a previous life. But then I learned that we can trade roles when suddenly Connor took over my role and I got kicked into this one instead. My hypothesis now is that we time-traveled to the previous age of magic, only not in person. Instead we swapped bodies with real people from the past. As a result what we’re seeing is a mix of the bodies that are really there and our awareness of who inhabits those forms. It’s probably how time travel works in real life, to minimize the risk of messing up the timeline.”
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Chris is definitely onto something here. Daniel’s hands feel different on Gavin’s shoulders, as if the android were using a Wellness app instead of his own experience. At the same time to Daniel it feels as if Gavin had substituted his shoulders and muscles for artificial ones. The familiarity they have with the other’s body is gone.
“I think Chris solved the riddle”, Gavin states. “His explanation makes sense, but I can also feel it. It does feel as if we’re borrowing some other blokes’ bodies. And they aren’t lovers.”
“Well, in this case they’ll be in for quite a surprise if we have to stay here longer.”
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„The problem with this approach is that “body” includes “brain””, Chris speaks on. “Our memories are stored in our original bodies, just like much of our expertise is the result of muscle memory. That’s why feel our selves slipping, to get replaced by a different set of experiences.”
“Our hosts seem to be sailors”, Tina says. A member of the Detroit sailing club she normally would have cherished the experience. Unfortunately she cannot access her real life knowledge, and the person she is impersonating isn’t well versed in seamanship. Whatever his role on a sailing ship is, it doesn’t involve navigation or piloting. It’s vexing, especially in the light of what is going to happen: “And at one point in the near future we are going to drown”, Tina finishes her sentence.
“I have no idea. Can’t access memories this brain hasn’t formed yet. But, yes, going by what we’ve seen from all the other victims, their ship probably sank. And now they’re pulling people into this time to re-live the incident over and over.”
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“I’ll never again complain that Halloween has become boring”, Hank comments. “In fact, this is a bit too close to the original idea of the walls between our world and the Beyond thinning!”
Sigstein has mulled something over and over in his head for some time now. Finally ready to give voice to it, he exclaims: “But why did the idiots sink? All you have to do is tie the skull of a Cachalot to your ship’s starboard side, and an Eubalaena skull to the port side, thus ensuring that the ship can never keel over!”
Tina frowns. “Wait, you mean the Right Whale goes to the left? That’s counter-intuitive.”
“It’s magic, you oaf of a werewolf! A sophisticated science.”
“So what are waiting for?” Gavin cries. “Let’s head out and get us some whalefishies! Should be as easy as hitting the broad side of a barn!”
To his borrowed brain it sounds like the sanest thing spoken at this table this morning.
The team leaves the Inn. They are aware of the fact that Hank has a ship, although it isn’t quite clear whether he owns or merely commands it. Likewise the displaced cops have no idea where exactly that ship is moored, so they have to allow their feet to guide them to that place, hoping that this act of giving up control won’t mess up their hard won independence from their host bodies again.
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♪♫ The Diamond is a ship, my lads / For the Davis Strait we're bound ♪♫ ♪♫ The quay it is all garnished / With bonnie lasses 'round ♪♫
“And handsome lads!” Gavin jubilates, smiling at his husband. “And cute bats and werewolves!” Daniel replies, slinging his arms around Gavin and Tina. “And vintage robots!” Tina teases her Fated Mate.
The trio consisting of three different occult states is seen not as odd, but definitely rare even in Detroit in 2050. Each of the three owes their extra powers to magic, but where Tina and Gavin would revert to mundane humans without magic, Daniel would become a slave to his program code and probably lose much of his self-awareness, too. Therefore it is of utmost importance to leave this time before 1839, when magic had went dormant again.
♪♫Captain A…♪♫
There is a brief pause, when the crew collectively needs to focus on their Captain’s name. But it quickly passes and the chorus continues:
♪♫Captain ANDERSON gives the order / To sail the ocean wide ♪♫ ♪♫Where the sun it never sets, my lads / Nor darkness dims the sky♪♫
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When their ship, that they think of as the “Diamond”, leaves port, Hank and Connor stand shoulder to shoulder, lost in thought. Once again their borrowed brains take the moment of respite as in invitation to take over.
“First time at sea, lad?” the Captain asks the newest addition to his crew, and Connor replies equally distanced: “No, Sir. But the first time whaling.”
“I did so only last week!” Daniel announces. “I didn’t plan to, but they released a new sword for my outdated Silver Knight, that will get him back into the game!”
Hank and Connor realize that their shipmate is talking about a phone game he is playing in the future. “Whaling” in this context refers to paying an unreasonable sum for ingame content, with “whales” being a moniker for the tiny subset of the paying players, that nevertheless accounts for more than 90% of an app’s profits.
“Daniel? Tell us all about your Silver Knight at dinner tonight!” Hank orders. “In fact, everyone focus on your favorite videogames whenever the topic of whales comes up! Doesn’t mean if you are an avid gamer like Tina, dabble like Daniel and Connor or…” Hank’s gaze rests on Sigstein. Following a hunch he finishes: “…cannot tell a Sega from a Nintendo.”
The insult is lost on Sigstein, but his shipmates’ amused faces tell him the gist of it.
Regardless of who can read them in this time, the seats at the table go to the experienced detectives, with the lower ranking officers scattered across the deck. The DPD normally doesn’t enforce rank much, except in this situation, where they need to hold fast to their selves.
“So we’ve got a ship that’s guaranteed to sink, joy”, Daniel remarks. “What are we going to do?”
“Whatever we want”, Hank muses. “The moment the “Diamond” left port, she was of no more consequence to history. As long as we stay away from people, we don’t run the risk of changing the flow of time.”
“Staying clear of other people? Who’d thought there was an upside to our situation!” Tina cheers.
“So what we’re going to do”, Hank continues”, “is set a course for the Bermuda Triangle and search it high and low for a way back in our time! Then we’ll make our way back to the DPD, touch our unconscious bodies and swap minds back with our hosts. Everyone survives, end of story!”
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Connor raises his hand. “I second the plan, but we should make not the Triangle, but Selvadorada our destination!”
“Oh, wow, after you guys blocked every last travel route there for me six years ago, now you’re giving me a free ride?” Sigstein sneers. Still on parole for his various crimes, the spellcaster is still not allowed to leave Detroit for any other purpose than his job at the Magic HQ. “If I’d known that all that takes is abducting you to the past, I’d done so myself!”
Selvadorada! Known as the Cradle of Magic, it is where the phenomenon got academically studied for the first time. By 1818 the Omiscan cities have been ruins for four centuries already and the original priesthood long disbanded. But half of the involuntary sailors have been to the ruins before and know their way around. If anybody has figured out time travel, then the ancient Omiscan Clerics. At the very least the ruins should contain a means to contact Sixam (another secret the clergy had kept from the rest of the world).
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“Selvadorada… Yeah, makes sense. Good call, Connor!”
“Yay, Selvadorada!!!” Rika rejoices. Gavin to the contrary moans “Noooo… not Selvadorada again…”. Sigstein keeps his silence. He has already said too much in his first excitement.
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So now the displaced officers have a plan. Except for the tiny detail of them still being at risk of sinking, even if they do not retrace the exact route the “Diamond” had taken in the past.
“So, uh, what will we do to prevent sinking again?”
Hank’s mimic changes at these words, as if the seaman had said something incredibly stupid.
“We’re going to get us a Physeter catodon and any species of Eubalaena, of course!”
Right, that had been Sigstein’s suggestion, born of the union of his soul and an only somewhat compatible brain. Now Hank repeats it as the one true course of action. In fact, it feels as if chasing down those two whales is something like a personal crusade to the man. Nobody objects. The sailors want to survive, and if the two whales come in handy for that, then so be it. But they also cannot find the mental strength in them to disobey THEIR CAPTAIN.
The very moment the sims sat foot on the ship, they did something that revealed what was really happening to them. (Yes, even though Free Will was off, the spoilery action counts as a conversation choice. Tina casually happened upon the absolute worst one when it came to the story/my lore.) You as readers are likely fully aware of what’s going on, but my sims are still ignorant and I don’t want them to acquire that knowledge at this point already. So I moved the screenshots to a later scene.
Rika is most suited to the lookout’s job, since it corresponds nicely to her receptionist post at the DPD. Remain in one place, watch who – or what – might happen by and react quickly. Rika adapts so quickly to this task, that she soon excels her host body at it.
“Do you think I’m doing well?” the officer asks the seaman. “You know, I can’t wait to meet you in person, when I’ve left your body! In the 21st century you can move in with my hubby and me, if you’d like. It would only be fair after me having piloted your body for days.”
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“For days…” Days passed with routine tasks and much joking and cussing. It’s November already, and the time travelers cannot help but think about what might befall their bodies back home.
“The puddles we’ll be leaving won’t be water now”, Gavin remarks.
“We are probably in hospital?” Tina wonders. “I hope my supplementary insurance pays off and they gave me a single.”
“Whatever room they gave me”, Chris states, “My host is going to cover the bill!”
The other two find no fault with that statement.
But other than that the police officers feel a certain kinship to the whalers. There are no academy trained officers among them, even Hank’s host, the Captain, has worked his way up from the very bottom. Likewise despite having some college or even a degree, the Detroiters have all started as beat cops. For a while there is peace and harmony.
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