Buzz Lightyear in the Potterverse
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MISSION LOG: stardate unknown. I awoke from hypersleep to find myself marooned on a strange and barren world. No memory of the accident or betrayal that led to this turn of events. No stars in view to navigate by—I stand alone within some sort of ... abandoned megastructure. All around me, a labyrinth of colossal masonry stretches as far as the eye can see, with no hint as to its purpose, or of the mysterious and ancient minds that assembled it, only to abandon it to time.

Although my suit's life support systems are obviously intact, many other functions appear unresponsive. The situation is urgent...I fear that if I do not find some way out soon, this floating derelict may become ... my tomb.

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The stone floor Buzz is standing on looks mostly intact, if worn by time and weather, but the ceiling is missing large chunks where he can see clear through to the overcast sky. There's no wind, and an eerie silence. This corridor goes on for a length proportional to its great breadth and height before ending in a right turn at one end and a T at the other.

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Hmm, atmosphere, gravity, and stoneworks……a rocky planet, or perhaps an artificial construct of comparable size.

With his wrist telemetry still unresponsive, though, there are no readouts to determine what the sinister-looking clouds of this tempest world are made of. It is all calm now, but despite his suit’s thick trillium-carbide mesh, Buzz briefly imagines the brittle chill of a methane snowstorm, the hiss of an acid monsoon. He must take cover, and fast.

Buzz creeps quickly and alertly along the wall's lengthy expanse, heading for the T junction, hoping to see a spot with better sky cover, and wary of any structural weaknesses or traps that the ancient masters of this place may have left behind.

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A creature emerges around the corner and stalks towards him. Perfectly silent, cat-shaped, as tall as Buzz at the shoulder, its fur mottled grey and black with a tufted tail like a lion's. It blinks its great yellow eyes and moves closer.

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Reflex takes over before Buzz can think. With practiced speed, he engages the stunner at his forearm, thrusts it toward the hulking, grizzled monstrosity, and squeezes, expecting to release a bright slashing beam of positronic energy that will startle or scare off the beast, if not paralyze it outright.

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The creature finds this interesting! It trots up and taps the glowy thing with a paw the size of Buzz's face, revealing four presently sheathed needle-sharp claws.

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Confound it! Weapons offline, too. “Nice kitty …” he quips wryly.

Even in a playful mood, this beast could maim Buzz with a single swipe of its paw. And Buzz is not especially keen to hang around and learn whether the species hunts in packs. Time to improvise an alternative.

He begins circling the silent hunter slowly, warily, avoiding direct eye contact and trying to line up with its exposed flank—there! In an instant, he lunges toward it and vaults up above the startled creature’s back, preparing to hold on for the ride of his life.

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The creature goes BOING straight up, lands gracefully, then flomps over sideways.

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Buzz, on the other hand, lands ... less than gracefully.

"Looks like we've got a live one," he manages. Buzz grins despite himself as he scrambles to face down the beast a second time. What a wily creature!

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It thwaps its tail halfheartedly and stares at him.

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In its languid, recumbent pose, the beast does not seem quite as threatening. Buzz eyes the sprawled expanse of tufted fur. Impressive, really, the graceful way it moves, how it landed so adroitly despite its bulking frame, and so easily outmaneuvered him. Those savage citrine eyes look merely curious now, watchful and maybe a bit disdainful.

Not quite daring to breathe, Buzz takes one step toward the creature and then another, his hand raised in solicitation.

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He will be graciously permitted to pet the creature's fluffy head.

 

There's a sound of multiple sets of footsteps approaching from around the corner.

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Footsteps! People! No way to judge yet whether this is a favorable development.

Do I dare make myself known to them?

But of course there is only one way forward! I am a space ranger at heart, and I know that fortune favors the bold. I can only hope that theirs is not a hostile race, and that the universal translator survived my unlucky descent.

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They're not hostile; they're puzzled

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And curious 

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And maybe a little suspicious. 

"What's that thing?"

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"Might be Fred and George's latest experiment."

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Buzz nearly stumbles backward as he takes in their staggering height and unsettlingly swift loping gait.

Galloping gorbnits…a race of cloaked giants! … Nature, as she so often does, breaching her own absolute decrees with a wink—their mere existence flouts the mathematician's famed square-cube law!

Are they…holographic illusions, perhaps? Mechanical constructs? Low-grav bio-organisms? Well, it makes no difference to protocol. With stately coolness, Buzz turns both palms up in greeting and addresses these strange arrivals.

"Greetings. I am a traveler from a far away land. Although my appearance may seem disturbing to you, my mission is peaceful. I require some assistance understanding your world. Are you able to understand me?"

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"Blimey. I'm not sure if I can understand you or not."

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"It sounds like something out of muggle television."

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(The part-kneazle cat has lost interest and wandered off.)

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At least the translator seems (mostly?) functional, and insofar as Buzz can cold read alien expressions, the newcomers seem interested but not upset. In his line of work, you’d call that a good day.

Buzz looks up at them, and at the gleaming-grey fragments of sky beyond that impossibly distant ceiling. “First, I want to know how safe we are to speak here. What should I know about any immediate danger you or I might be in? Although we may not be in any danger at all, any information you share could be useful.”

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"If we're going to have a conversation we should find somewhere more private. Don't want the 'Inquisitorial Squad' finding us." He makes 'Inquisitorial Squad' sound like something you'd find on the bottom of your shoe. "We're not far from." Head-tilt the other two seem to find meaningful.

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"Lead on," replies Buzz.

No doubt he moves slowly by their standards, but otherwise an expedition should be just fine; the terrain here looks flat and easy to traverse by foot—even picking his way across the grikes, Buzz bets he can comfortably handle a standard day’s trek like this if he needs to.

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Yeah no he's getting grabbed around the middle and carried. This decision may seem a bit less rude when they go around the corner and come upon a staircase whose individual steps are almost as tall as Buzz is. And also it briefly becomes impossible to look straight at it and then goes back to normal but pointing in a different direction.

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Snap judgment here says this development is useful, not threatening or particularly out of his control. Buzz'll take advantage of the aerial overview. The cloaked stairwell was a surprise.

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