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@this-is-not-an-alien, @ragnarok, @kimlikesart

 

SCENE SETTING – [You arrive in Consul Oscar Woodwall’s living room.]

The room is richly furnished and professionally designed. It’s quite large – could comfortably hold a little over twenty people. The walls are emerald green and the pillars are stark white.

A fountain babbles in the center of the room, under a bright grow-light. Water-lilies bloom inside and brightly colored fish swim peacefully.

In fact, peaceful is the best way to describe this room. It is a place to calm and relax. Meditative.

A window looks out to the bustling streets, but it is covered with thick curtains right now. However the faint rush of the trains across steel roads slips in with the faintest breeze.

[Author note – feel free to add any necessary furnishings, paintings, statues… as needed for your characters. They just need to be stupid rich. Oscar is basically a billionaire.]

 

BURN

I wait a long, long moment.

Then rub my face.

“Was it all a dream? Some horrible dream?” I whisper.

Wait. How much was a dream? Am I still wanted for murder?!

I jump to my feet beside the fountain.

Crap. Where’s Oscar. Where is he? Oooooooh I am in so much trouble.

Not a dream.

Oh this was not a dream. I’m still in hospital clothes.

I snap my fingers. “It was a dream! I hallucinated. I bet that’s it! Search was right! I ate something I shouldn’t and now …”

Oh no. Oscar’s gonna kill me. Or worse – he’s gonna baby me. Smother me.

Crap.

I have to get out of here!

But maybe not dressed like this…

“Burn?”

I tip my head towards Search. “Hey?”

“We … I … this is … um…”

“Take a deep breathe.” I steeple my fingers and deepen my voice – I still can’t quite get his rasp though. “Construct your sentence. Then speak it.”

“I don’t need you channeling Oscar right now! I need you to explain why the magic pool spit us out here!”

Eh?

Crap.

It wasn’t a dream.

“What.”

Oh no.

“In the forsaken towers of the Abyss.”

Oh this is very, very bad.

“Is going on here?”

 

“Heh, heh. Mr. Oscar. Nice to meet you. Um. The answer to that question is … we were in the processes of … Okay. I have absolutely no idea.” Search face palms loudly.

“Oscar.” I shoot him my most dashing smile – at least, Grimme says it’s my most dashing smile. “So. Important question first – what’s the date?”

 

SEARCH

Oscar narrows his dark eyes and walks to Burn cautiously. “[{March 27, 2023.}]”

Um.

We are in the past?

Burn purses his lips too. “Okay. That’s spectacular. Really. So… what do you want an explanation of? Anyway? Cause it seems pretty normal to me. Ya’know?”

“Please attempt to properly enunciate your words.” Oscar ruffles Burn’s hair.

He squawks, tries to neaten it, and makes it worse.

“And I was hoping for an explanation of the strangers in my living room. And why you all look like you have escaped the hospital…”

He glares at me. Like this is my fault. The man who raised Burn is blaming me for this mess. I would be angry were it not so ridiculous.

“OSCAR!” the door flies open and Grimme storms in with the fury of a scream of Colds during a dark shift. “What is the mean… um.” Grimme freezes in the doorway, still in her warrior-gear and caked in mud. “Actually. You can explain that later. What is the meaning of this?” She points around the room to the various people finally getting to their feet.

Except for Alessio who is babbling happily to himself… wasn’t he older than that?

“That’s what I’m trying to get out of Ms. Sonja.”

Grimme turns to me, her black eyes narrowed. “Burn? What did you do?”

“I’m innocent!” Burn yelps, ducking away from Oscar and nearly falling into the fountain. Oscar grabs his arm and steers him towards the sofa. “I swear! I’m innocent! Nothing happened no-attempted-murders-and-I-absolutely-remember-everything-I’m-supposed-to-promise!”

Wait.

“What?”