... mmm ... well one's sorta Anglo-Irish but ...
In a place that is between worlds even when worlds converge there is a wood full of ponds that are portals in one section but there is also beyond a small pond and river a village and in that village a house on a hill with a large tree in the garden framing a view of a distant mountain. In that house two English men were having afternoon tea. There was ham and cheese and sandwiches and scones and berries and cream and a pot of tea which was always the right temperature and coffee that was never bitter and other delights. One of them had a pipe full of tobacco which never made you sick and really did have a fragant aroma and was blowing smoke rings. The other was looking out the window.Their wives who were out in the garden tending herbs waved up at him.
"Jack the mail is about to arrive!"
A moment later a very large pigeon wearing a WWII pilots cap came through the window and perched on the tea tables edge patiently waiting for an reward of hot buttered scone as the man called jack untied the message scroll from the bird.
"Ron duty calls!"
The two men got up from the teatable donned sensible woollen jackets with really useful deep pockets and picked up walking sticks made of a wood from a tree of the sort spirits dwell in and stranger creatures.
A small unicorn tossed its mane at them in greeting as they crossed into the forest and approached a pond from which steam was rising. It showed a mass of swirling red and black clouds and a planetoid surrounded by a force field appraoching Earths sun with ramscoops extended to collect plasma to restart fusion reactors and odder devices .
"Mmm Teckelstein's powering up for something."
Next powering up ...