So as it began, I was at the shop enjoying the effects of an April Fools joke in action. My coworker was completely shaken up to the point of simply not speaking--which is saying something; he never shuts up. I waited until the most dramatic moment to take my leave, abandoning him to thoughts that would no doubt put him over the edge until I chose to yank him out of the abyss he was tumbling into. Where did I go? Wyatt's house. I was starving and Five Guys cheeseburgers seemed like the only logical way to fulfill my hunger.

Upon my arrival, Wyatt informed me that we had to wait for Monica and Jordan as they were planning on joining us at the godly cheeseburger joint. Since I didn't have a Snickers, I took the time to fill him in on my scheme, even called my poor, tortured coworker to save him from himself. Jordan came in shortly afterward, then Monica. Together, we began our epic journey down the street.

Like a bunch of five year olds, we went prancing into the restaurant to be greeted by the nerdy cashier who nearly knows us by name at this point. Orders placed, food received and consumed. As its being consumed, we crack jokes surging with innuendo around mouthfuls of fries, speak of our significant others and friends' sex lives through unique toppings... the things late teens and early twenties do.

Then of course, we take the time to discuss what's happening in fantasy land. The lives that we have created, that we have control over, that let us escape our own for as long as we allow ourselves to. We discussed characters that we might bring into that notorious plane, lives we might manipulate to our liking....

So, the conversation continues even as we're piling back into the car, ready to return to Wyatt's domain. Piling back in... then falling a*s first onto cobblestone.

"OWWWWWW!" Before I even take a moment to look around, I'm announcing to the world that the truck has up and disappeared. "WHAT THE HELL!? WHO DOES THAAAT?!" That's when I look. I look, with wide brown eyes, mouth agape at my surroundings.

"Uhh.." Words are escaping me. I may need to relearn how to speak. For the time being, I'm just gonna smack the closest person to me.

Waking up at a pleasantly late hour of 2:00 PM, I woke up to munch on cinnamon toast. Oh, I was hyperactively stalked by the replacement pair of pups. They were weenie dog puppies.

Identical to my recently deceased wiener, named Pepper, they were different in so many ways. In tired apathy, I maneuvered around their scampering and scuttles back to my room. Booting them out to save myself new puddles of pee around my room, I got to my blissful prison of a?broken laptop. Yes, buh-roken! Been broken for months now. I keep procrastinating on getting it fixed. I couldn?t tell you why.

Then, the guilt set in. I sob-storied my way into making up an essay I didn?t do early in the semester. Worth a third of my grade, she allowed it to be turned in Monday. While the SECOND one I failed to turn in that was due two days ago would be due?tomorrow. I confessed to her that I lost motivation when my Pepper, the original wiener, died. Her understanding was ridiculous. She was pissed, but let me make up the two un-turned in papers with no penalty. I should bless my lucky stars more than I did.

Mid-paper formatting, I got a phone call. I usually get text messages. But hours after I slowly trudged through my paper on Othello, I answered it with much glee. Well, it was Wyatt. My good pal for?5 years now? Good lord! He tells me he found something from our Junior year in high school. With a surprise as initiative, I prepared for departure. My paper is STILL unfinished.

So, we stack into Wyatt?s car. Speed on to the Burger Place. I love the burgers here. But I made the mistake of eating too big of a breakfast too late into the day. So, I?m going to this place full to the brim. Even more depressing. I forget the tragedy as we talk. We talk of our shared disease of a hobby. Our characters, their interactions. Our secondary lives of secret. Our literary sinful pleasure. The nerdiest hobby to have. I steal a fry or seven. I even steal sips of different drinks. We giggle. We joke. Sexual jokes are rampant.

Then, we leave in our comfy little troop out the restaurant. Into our unspoken assigned seats, we sat. The Driver, to my diagonal left, was Wyatt. To my immediate left was Jordan. Before me was Morgan in her shotgun. Yet, my plummet to cushioned backseat was horribly, horribly?mistaken??! I landed on pavement instead. And damn, did THAT hurt my tailbone. ?SONOFA-!!!? My eyes close for a while. Silent hissings and Hispanic spans of curses are muttered to myself. I open my eyes, to find no car at all. Then, I look to Jordan for salvation. He was looking to me and the others for the same thing. I yank of my glasses. Rub at my eyes. I do that twenty more times. No words escaped me. What?was there to say?!?

My immediate reaction once everything had registered? "COOOOOOOOL!" And despite the massive amount of pain in my rump, I push myself to my feet. "This is like a really bad sci-fi movie...but it's AWESOME! Eeeee!" Cue the ungraceful jig that consists of the shaking of my behind accompanied by something like the shaking of salt and pepper shakers with my hands.

Of course, I'm not really considering the seriousness of this right now. Many, many things to keep in mind... none of which I'm actually keeping..in mind. No, I'm just excited. I'm ignoring the future complications that our presence will surely cause. Why? I like to live in the moment rather than worry about what *might* happen. Makes things less stressful.

Thus, Jordan gets a kick this time and I extend my hand to Wyatt... because I have super human strength in the tiny frame that is me and insist that I can pull the lumber-jackesque guy up. "Let's go explore. And you guys can talk amongst yourselves and figure out what happened on the way." Honestly. What are the chances that something will go wrong right away?

And there I was, left a torn Jordan. An excited and elated and partially terrified Jordan. My heart beat in two directions under my blue penguin shirt, one telling me to follow Morgan and Wyatt and explore and the other, more conservative wrench lead me to sit right where I was on the floor at the marketplace with Monica. Both were good, but both would get very mundane very quickly. Not to mention that I had in the back of my mind this awful little feeling that something could go terribly wrong if we didn't find ourselves up and moving; what would happen if THEY just wandered by us? Bringing up the question that I pressed through pursed lips,
"Yeah, you go... What happens if we wander in front of ourselves, eh? Or, rather, what's gonna happen to them anyway? You think now that we're here they can't be here anymore? I don't think I've ever heard of a laptop or working internet system in Rhydin anyway."
It was a conservative approach to how I really felt, otherwise I'd have gabbed their ears off to the point of grotesque mutilation. Well, maybe not. I felt it, then, though, that tightness. My left hand gripped into a fist and I breathed real slow as I stabled myself upright and clenched my teeth. Everything was worth considering twice and everything was heavy and potentially terrifying. The world was too small and too big and my friends were too far and too close and my breathing was too heavy and too thin. It was a panic attack, something I periodically just suffered from. I was not, however, about to let on; it was just deep breathing, out thinking my poor mental wiring and making everyone else think I was zen or some such. With a final gulp of air, I toned out,

"Where are you two headed? Because now we actually have to travel and I don't ACTUALLY know where anything is here..."

Yeah. Morgan's super strength resulted in her being pulled into the awkward position of a surface I could use to push myself up. Which made me laugh. Then I looked around and took a breath far too deep to be a breath, and *choooooo*'ed the air out. "If we run into them, we'll probably be killed and fed to something." I elbowed Morgan playfully, not realizing the seriousness of the comment in any capacity, and then took a hold of her arm and began to drag her East. After, you know, getting my bearings.

"Yeesh. Didn't any of you ever look at the map? We've got to get... Oh. I don't think heading towards... Bad idea... Damnit! Where are we supposed to go!?" My head spun. It was like a barrel of monkeys had exploded on my brain and found a stash of mining equipment, then... Well... You can put it together.

At any rate, I was far too frazzled to get more than twenty steps. Then I stopped and pointed at a pair of shops, side-by-side. "Oh ****, lookit..." Well, I lost my wit for the moment, who'da thunk it?

Even when I'm shot down of getting to see, I remember. "Right. She moved to the Glen anyway." Relief would've rushed over me if I didn't realize what I said. Boy, did I sound ridiculous. This all was freakin' ridiculous. Remember, Momo. Play it cool. Go with it. No more bitching.

I coached myself to shut up about things, following Morgans practical advice. Her brows seemed to somehow scream to me that I was being dumb again. I wished I hadn't spoken. Silence is the best thing when you have no clue what's going on. Which, I didn't.

I randomly regain more anxiety. I had...three papers to write. Two of which were due on the same day. Which was slower to arrive than time here. I hoped. I really, reeeally hoped.

"Here's a thought. How 'bout we just don't try to explain to anyone who we are. Not the specifics of it, anyway. We're kids. From that lame-a*s Earth place...and uh.. No one'll ask questions. Much. Just keep my shirt on." I admit, that could sound a bit off to anyone not in the know. But, everyone outside of those already in the know will stay outside of the knowing circle. I digress....

It's around now that Jordan receives the look; The one implying that I really do have all-knowing, all-understanding powers. "Expert Opinions," if you will. Even if it is to the back of his head. Coming to the realization that my powers of the Know are useless when faced with one's backside, I give the closest of his moving feet a kick, aiming to send him tumbling... or at the very least, stumbling. Then I add, for good measure, "If we do that, we shouldn't have to worry about how they handle it, right? Just go about our business." Brown eyes that were wider than I want them to be at that point shift from Monica to Wyatt, looking for reinforcement.

Funny-talk. That's good. Being the not-so-interesting of the interesting bunch of stellar lengths, I just chuckle when I hear something that makes me laugh. Wish I was that funny. I always do. But, I decide to stick with my silent idea. Even if I didn't, I had nothing useful to say.

I would've offered up my char's friends, but I would probably faint right then and there if I had to stand in front of, let along speak to, who I had in mind. Locke? Nope, pansy. Lanta? Definitely not. Ethan? Nope, I'd be dead on the ground before I could ask for anything.

I keep my mouth shut. Worse comes to worse, if I happen to disagree with what they have in mind...I'll just...

Well, I'll get to that bridge when I cross it. My brain doesn't want to function right now. Not in the slightest. Good thing I over-ate before I went to Wyatt's.

I broke the dry roof of mouth with a yawn and gargle just before and during Morgan's kick. But in my quiet, now, I knew that Wyatt was right, which often meant that the next course of action that I took would also be right.
"I don't think the inn is a bad idea. We know who to look for when it comes to help and we know who to avoid for the most part, not to mention, we'll have the opportunity to scope out things like moneys giving," had I just used the word moneys? "jobs or places for rent and the like. Regardless the outcome," I motioned in my usual way by being feet away suddenly from everyone before turning suddenly with a great explosion of glee and warmth, "the inn is better than sunburning in the market place, which is something we should consider," I had stolen Wyatt's ingenious use of finger, only with subtle grace and awkward stance, "There's real world shit we haven't had to face. Like drink and food being ACTUALLY eatable, staying cool on hot days and warm on the cold."
And then it hit me, it hit me like an angry black man who I had wrongfully taken money from and not only had flashed it in front of him but I had waved my bare white rear in his face just to add light to the dark subject. By chest couldn't stop moving at at first I was confused, but buy the time my teeth began to clank together and my fingers got stiff I realized that aside from jeans I had been quite under dressed for forty degree weather. "God damned it's cold for Spring here! I almost miss eighty degrees at the low latitudes. I'm Inn bound based off Morgan's theory and my own, I suggest you follow." It wasn't a bark or an order, those weren't things that I did and I was sure they understood. It was just the way I worked, the best way to get things done was simply to get them done. And all the while I'd spared a smile for Monica, "I think you've got less to worry about when it comes to crazy people and situations. What do you think mine will think when they realize who I am?" It wasn't so much a laugh as it was a way to remind myself that this was real but survivable. It had to be, right? I was back to the group and hoping to god I was in the right direction.

Then, I noticed I had been directly spoken to. I also noticed, thanks to Jordan, that it was cold like mofos outside. I, for once in my life, didn't wear thousands of layers. My attire consisted of a long-sleeve black shirt that was thin in fabric and slightly see-through. Jean shorts reached just short of my knees.

Scars and scabs were about my legs. Wounds. From scratching so much. Yep, skin condition. One of the biggest reasons I hated myself. I stopped caring so much when my school was chopped up in college life. I would go to school, come home, and be unseen. It was nice for a while.

Right. Jordan tried to comfort me. The kind dude. "True, I guess. But still...I may just die if I go in there."

Exaggeration? Not really. Hey, now that we're in this new world-thing...Maybe folks won't speak over me or interrupt me so much? No, they'll still do it. Shouldn't be so hopeful.

I felt the wind and the frigid air a moment after it had been spoken of, and for the life of me, I couldn't have been happier. Finally, a place to tend to the needs of my Lumberjackosity AND ridiculous internal and external body temperatures. It was quite possibly the best few minutes of this place I'd seen so far. Too bad I'd been too busy enjoying it so much. I hadn't added any thought to what was going on before me. I blinked once, twice, and a third time for good measure, and then began heading in a slightly different direction than Morgan and Jordan with a glance in their direction. Here it comes, the usual correction. I really hit the nail on the head with that stuff. "You're both going North. YEESH."

That's when I noticed Monica had yet to move.

I guess thoughts far too deep for simple Human understanding distract a person, sometimes.

"Moooooooooonicaaaaaaaaaa, we've got places to go. And things to avoid. Lots of the last bit, too." It was then that I realized that if I did manage to run into any of them, there was all of three that wouldn't dislike or overlook me on the spot. Well. Two.

At least they wouldn't kill me. Or... At least most of them wouldn't kill me. I think. I hate not remembering things like that.

At any rate I headed what I was almost positive was Inn-wards, through the frigidly delightful streets, before turning towards Morgan with, amazingly, a smirk. "I think I'd make a good idiot. And the pay seems good enough, and if we DO get jobs that would make us involved in Innly activities, we'd have some kind of protections, right? Maybe? I never pay attention. Whatever." With that, I gave life back to the index finger of directions and pointed it semi-skywards. "To the Inn!"

That entirely necessary act accomplished, I headed on.

In my own private way I enjoyed Morgan's conversation.
"We wouldn't last living together," I gave this look, over my shoulder with the edge of my lips bent up and stare right to the skinny girl's heart, "IT would happen and then it would get awkward." Or it would happen again, so I politely kept to myself as I turned back in what was apparently north. The Inn was South. I walked by the three and was leading correctly now.
"With any luck we'll make it across the WHOLE city, for the most part, before tomorrow. I think we should just hold up at the inn because we know there's just about anything you can do to get one of the endless rooms there." I spoke lyrically, in a way that singer would practice his voice before locking in on the melodic catch in a song. They were used to it no doubt, but it was strange to look at myself from the outside for a moments while I passed through the chill and over the cobble. "Three Pikdish warriors came from the north in blue, in blue..." it chuckled itself out, I didn't have a choice. Whether the content or the Ants Go Marching In tune was worse, I'll probably always look back and never know, but for three of us four it was a quiet anthem of bonfires and campouts.

I had this special way of walking when I wanted to look cool, like I was in charge. I stood up straight effortlessly and tried to make my motions as flawless as possible. I threw my face up a bit and looked up at the sky like it told me where to go. I breathed in and I breathed out and my heart had slowed down.