"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James stood for a moment, his movement delayed as he was caught in thought. None of us know why we're here, do we. Though they all seemed to be guarded, and he knew none of them trusted one another (because he still hadn't ruled any of them out as threats), they all also appeared to be clueless.
Before Auryon walked completely out of sight, James began to follow behind, following the sound of her footsteps. He was curious, but it seemed that the fellow behind the door was also lacking answers just as he. He met the two in the hall just as they began to introduce themselves, and interjected.
"Mine is a similar story," he explained. "Leo, I'm Peter," he said before extending a hand to shake.
"Same," Auryon says. "I was knocked out minute, woke up here the next."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
He grabbed onto Peter's hand and gave it a light shake. He tried to ignore Mina's subtle looks; years of experience and travels had made him quite good at noticing little things like that. Withdrawing his hand, he looked at their faces. None of them were familiar. Checking the other planes revealed nothing new. It appeared, for whatever reason, that a group of complete strangers had been kidnapped. But for what could the purpose of this be?
"I'm sorry for being intrusive," he hesitantly started, "but do any of you have enemies who might have done something like this?"
"Oh, yeah," she answers flippantly. "So many it's not even funny."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James maintained a neutral expression. "It's wouldn't be so much a matter of who our individual enemies are, but if we had a common enemy. Hence, us four complete strangers finding ourselves here. Though I highly doubt any of us have the relational equity to disclose such information freely."
He nodded in agreement. Peter's argument made sense; they would all have to know their kidnapper. But what could such a strange group of people have in common? These people certainly had nothing to do with Goa'uld. He would have heard of them by now, but their names and faces were unfamiliar. They weren't in league with one of the Goa'uld he may have provoked. He was almost completely certain of that. Similarly, he was certain they weren't allied with the SGC, Tok'ra or Asgard. Neither Leonardo Cartwright or Maahes had anything to do with them.
We can still kill them all. That's an option - no one even here to catch us!
No, we aren't doing that.
Ah, but you want to...I know you do.
Shut up.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Either we have a common enemy, or something in common just in general. Or perhaps the common thread could be that we have nothing in common at all. But whatever the case, we're obviously here for a reason - and the marks on our hands may be an indicator or a clue... or at least a place to start. We may find answers behind more doors. Doors that only we can open, and doors that we might not be able to get to unless we all help each other."
"That said, I'm not keen on the idea. So please, voice your opinions."
He wished he could keep his hand hidden away in his pocket, but there was a truth to the suggestion that he couldn't ignore. Their best shot at determining what had happened were a combination of the mysterious markings and the actual building. He took a deep breath that he didn't need. If these people were from somewhere else in the universe, far away from the worlds he traveled to, it would be alright to share this little secret with them.
"I think we should start by sharing our markings," he suggested. "We can see if there's any sort of pattern." He was unsure if the group, who already seemed more acquainted with each other than he was, had already told each other what was on their hands. Still, he needed to know. He removed his hand from the pocket of his coat and held it out. "Mine is a lotus flower."
He stiffened. "Yes." He needed to come up with a suitable lie for it. If he could avoid talking about his past, he would. Some wounds had never healed. "...Where I'm from, there are people who are associated with certain things. Those things are what define them. A lotus is one of the things that defines me." It wasn't a complete lie. It was more of a half-truth than anything else. There were people like the ones he had described, though they weren't exactly people - they were "gods". And a lotus truly was one of the things that had been associated with him during Ra's rule over Earth.
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