The day had started out so good, too. You had gone online, messed around a little, decided to join Frost's 4th edition RP... sure, some help this or there was needed, but still, you got your character accepted. You didn't even make it to another forum. With a glance at the acceptance post, a shadowy hand burst itself from your computer screen with a head-splitting screech, latching onto your face... and pulling. Though you struggle with all your might, or maybe you are too shocked to struggle, the surprisingly strong, cold arm manages to pull you into the screen... You are placed before a grand table, various mythological beings before you... looking at you. Snickering, jeering, advising... a dissonant symphony of noise that tears at your very flesh. The mythological beings all become quiet, then... Hands sprout out from the ground, these with cyclopian eyes staring from their palms, fanged mouths dripping a strong-smelling ink onto the floor. The hands rear back for a moment before lunging forward. You feel something rip. ---- "Holy heck! Are you alright?" A slight breeze passes by, grass tickling your neck or exposed flesh. "Damn that was a long fall..." The speaker, a male with shaggy silver hair, stands dressed in shiny scale mail. Good-looking in a way, muscular, with a worried look. "You took a greater fall than I did... I managed to get most of you pieced back together with my first aid skills..." He points to a few bandages here and there." Donning an embarrassed look, the silver-haired man sighs, rubbing the back of his head. "...I was called 'Professor Frost' on Iwaku... 'Boss Frost' before this all happened." He gestured around at the empty field. "...'Fore you ask, I have no idea what's going on. I've been here for a few days, now... I think something else was using my account..." he bites his lower lip. "...Feel free to panic."