jabberwock

Traveling until the end of the month.  Happy holidays!

The lake of mud quickly rallied, churning with some sort of mass intelligence that turned against them.  It was evident that the direct approach wouldn't work.  "You can't go further!" he called out to Jane, slogging into the mess to try and help extricate her from the mud (assuming she was actually amenable).  Once back onshore, Telly collapsed onto the dirty ground, trying to catch his breath.  He cast a glance over to their some time benefactor, sitting smugly beneath the shade of a giant mushroom.  Fiona hadn't lifted a hand to help them and seemed content enough to observe the proceedings.  Clearly this was a test, something they had the ability to handle.   The rain soaked through his clothes, dripping wetly into uncomfortable crevices and making him decidedly unhappy.  Astonished, he glanced up and thought back to what Fiona had been trying to teach them.  The world was shadows, side by side slices of the same pie but each distinctly it's own.  Could he... ?   The engineer jumped to his feet and popped his hood over his head to protect it against the rainfall.  Glancing both ways along the water's edge, he began to move purposefully clockwise to the lake.  With each step he took, he imagined the rain clouds parting to let bright, heavy sunlight fall upon the muddy lake.  The one thing he concentrated on, however, was to keep the island of prisoners constant.

Still here!

Health first!  Feel better!

The buildings faded away quickly as they progressed and soon enough the group found themselves amidst trees.  At first, the area seemed pleasant and peaceful, but the torrent of water grew larger and muddier as they trespassed.  Rainfall began, making the path treacherous, but his new clothing adapted well enough and water slicked off of his half cloak and hood to keep Telly dry.   Soon enough, they found themselves on the shores of a muddy lake, with a semi-distant island that held others from DMV, some of whom had been "transformed" by the demoness into mud back in the original world.  The demoness herself lay unconscious among them.  "Is that actually her?  The woman who killed all those people back there?  Or is that Earth's version of her, swapped out?"   Without a word, Jane dropped her weapon and dove into the muddy water.  Adventurous and incautious as ever.  As much as Telly had admired her bravery for diving into the unknown, he was quickly realizing the difference between online videos and real life.  All this talk of intelligent mud made the lake itself seem more dangerous than the unconscious group on shore.  Telly wasn't sure he wanted to be in the midst of that much mud.   Tim was more cautious, but still looking to move on to the offensive.  Timidly, Telly asked him, "Ummm... doesn't she look like more of a... captive from here?"

Super sorry, life got super busy and then I got sick.  Will try to post tomorrow.

The scenery changed around them as they walked through the streets.  The buildings, already worn and grey, grew smaller and patchwork, beaten down by the sudden gusting winds, heavy with the scent of impending rain.  Telly shivered and drew his light jacket closer around his shoulders, surprised to find that his own clothing had morphed along with the surroundings.  He had been wearing black jeans and a red cotton tshirt this morning, but he was surprised to find that he now wore a deep red tunic with tan leather shoulder pads.  His light jacket had turned into a half cloak of faded black.   Glancing down, he confirmed that his pants and sneakers had also gone through a bit of a transformation as well, somewhere halfway between their original fashion and basic leather leggings.  Overall, it was surprisingly comfortable, though he wondered what it meant that his new color scheme sported blood red with tan highlights.  Did that have anything to do with the new Amber persona he was learning about, or had that simply been an unconscious choice as they traveled?   So engrossed was he in his appearance, he nearly tripped over a rock, stumbling for a few steps before catching his balance on a nearby wall.  Fiona was talking again, something about multiverse benefits.  He realized he hadn't been paying attention and gulped.  Swords now, she was talking about swords and how they worked everywhere.  Made sense, a hunk of sharp metal never really changed.   They approached a blacksmith's smithy, around which lay tables and racks of weapons.  "You'll need some kind of weapon," their guide said.  "Pick what you want."   The problem was, he wasn't sure what he wanted.  He imagined the kind of fencing he saw in the pirate movies, but the blades seemed too thin and fragile when he examined them.  Or perhaps a long sword, like he saw in the medieval movies, but they were too heavy for him to handle.  Trying to call up memories of a life where he knew how to use a sword seemed to fail him at the moment.  It wasn't so easy to just suddenly get new abilities.  It's not like he could call up an operator and tell them to "load the sword fighting program."   After some time, Telly settled on a machete.  It was light enough to handle, but sturdy enough to take abuse.  He could swing it with or without fancy knowledge.  He picked up a scabbard and a small dagger to go along with his purchase.  "How much?" he asked of the proprietress.  She quoted a price and he paused, then counted out the silver from a small pouch weighing at his waist.  Unsure if it was right and accustomed to paying store prices, the technician paid full price for the goods without attempting to haggle.   "Oh, I hope that wasn't too much money," Telly lamented.

The ability to find worlds we desired...   It was a captivating thought, something that had crossed his mind more than once.  A way to break the monotony of life, the drudgery that permeated his every day.  A chance at something more.   But that was a pipe dream.  Something that let him drift away in the middle of an abstract, grey day.  This was something different.  The visceral fear and horror of the DMV (well, the demon in the DMV, though to an extent the DMV itself as well) and the vaguely odd familiarity of the background for this "adventure" was deeply out of place for his fantasies.  He felt somehow different yet still the same, out of place yet still stuck.   His fellow adventurer, Martin, still kept a reasonable head on his shoulders.  His questions seemed pointed and fair, something the problem solver inside of Telly approved of.  "If we can control the flow of time, why is time still of the essence?"

Telly nodded.  "We can probably finding everything we need in a..."  At this he licked his lips, trying to remember the word that Fiona had used.  "... libido space.  But what if one isn't around?"

There was talk of more destinations, more lessons, and problems in the rear view.  Clearly it was not the last they had seen of the dreaded demon woman.  Telly shivered involuntary, suddenly remembering the gore that had been his whole world, only a short time earlier.  It seemed like almost a dream now, or perhaps this was the dream and he'd awaken in a hospital bed.   Their guide opened the exit wide, revealing the streets beyond.  They were both familiar and foreign, the line of buildings that led up the street.  He noticed cracked walls and weathered roofs, where vegetation had begun to seep into foundations.  Disturbingly enough, the once sun dappled scenery was now plastered in pale moonlight, black and white and grey.   As if suddenly realizing that they were about to embark on a journey of some unknown import, Telly hurried over to a closet door.  He closed it briefly and concentrated for a second before opening it up and reaching inside.  From the previously empty closet, the young technician pulled out a backpack.  He checked its simple contents: a flashlight, a rain poncho, a warm jacket, some granola bars, a canteen of water, and Swiss army knife.  His eyes rose to meet the others.  "Uhhh, anyone else want one?  Just in case?"  The closet held a few more similar bags.

The magical fridge trick had been enough to convince Telly that the asian women was telling the truth about shadows and worlds, if not about her intentions.  The thought of a new trick was sort of exciting to the technician.  He imagined what sort of persona might be exciting, but ultimately it came down to testing the impossible.   All his life, Telly had never been able to whistle.  He'd had friends instruct him, watched online tutorial videos, practiced for hours, but it never worked.  In his head, he imagined he could whistle.  He pursed his lips and blew.   It was not what he expected.   Suddenly, his mind swirled with new thoughts, new memories, of a person he had never been.  Recollections of discovering how to whistle at a young age, of whistling as he grew up in the orphanage.  He had been adopted by a different family, one who found joy in music.  He remembered after school jam sessions with his new family, playing in a band in high school, and then attending Julliard to continue his training in music.  He remembered music theory, dramatic history, and classmate study sessions that he had never attended in his real life.   His lips issued not just a single whistled note, but a rising slide that hit high C, followed by an impromptu concert complete with staccato claps and table drumming.  When the last note faded, so did his skills and abilities, though the memories settled somewhere into the back of his mind.

Fiona's word echoed within Telly's ears, though he still wasn't in quite the right frame of mind to grasp them fully.  It was too wide, too vast a concept, that his entire life was, well... not quite a lie but not quite real either.  The Sons and Daughters of Amber?  The power to mold the world around him?   He refocused.  Smaller, easier to handle ideas.  He tossed his empty coffee jar into a nearby recycling container (which funnily enough was empty but surrounded by trash) and approached the refrigerator again.  He concentrated and opened it, finding it empty.  Then he concentrated and opened it again, finding it full of fruit.  He did this several times more, ascertaining each time that his mind had somehow conjured something new into the confines of the fridge.  Finally, he stepped away, sipping on the ice cold contents of his slurpee while his mind readjusted to their situation.   It didn't seem to be a trick.  He wasn't verbalizing his wishes, but somehow they manifested within the fridge.  Hell, he had visualized grapes the size of oranges and somehow that had appeared.  If it was science, it was too advanced to differentiate from magic.   And according to Fiona, it wasn't magic powered by the fridge, it was something within him that powered the change.  That was a mental hurdle that took some time to get over.  He paused a moment, then expanded awareness.  If he could manifest changes within the fridge, what about something bigger?  Could he manifest changes in the room?  In the world?  Is this what Fiona meant by the ripples created by-   His brain short circuited for a second.  He needed to bring his thoughts back to more basic concepts.  He opened the fridge once more to verify it was empty.  Without closing the door, he imagined it filled with chocolate chip cookies.

Their surroundings were strange, to say the least.  The building had been populated and stained with blood only moments before, but passing through the mirror (?!?) had left them in a deserted and dusty facsimile of their DMV.  On the surface, he was following the events, moving with the group and listening to the string of consonants and vowels issuing forth from the Asian redhead.  But internally, he was mentally stalled and had trouble trying to kickstart his brain into motion.   The words coming from their guide all made sense, individually.  He knew those words.  They were English.  But the structure and context had him completely blindsided.  He was still reeling at "enemies" (because he has some now?) when the words "swapping creatures" and "parallels" passed him by.  "Violent" was a word he only encountered on the news, and he was having trouble associating it with "plants", though the word "mud" had somehow preceded "man", and "astral" was used in a completely serious context.   The only phrase that made sense was "get yourself something to drink" and "well stocked".  He latched on to the sanity, the only thought that subsisted in the rapidly dwindling rational part of his mind.  Yes, liquid.  Thirst.  A queue formed.  A line to alleviate thirst.  Normality, banality.  Telly stepped into the line and waited for those in front of him to complete their first task in this upside down world.  When his turn came, he felt foolish but held the simple thought: Oh magic fridge, please give me an iced coffee.   With baited breath, he opened the fridge door and discovered that the refrigerator had delivered.  Inside stood an assortment of iced coffees and teas, like what you might see in the refrigerated section of a grocery store.  He selected one and unscrewed the top with a satisfying little pop! that indicated the seal was broken.  Then he turned his attention back to the group.   They sat around the fridge chatting like it was break time at the watercooler.  Awkwardly leaning one arm against a nearby dusty counter, he joined in on the introductions.  It was like starting a new job.  "James," he said, gesturing at himself with his drink.  "James Tellerheim, but I grew up with a couple of other Jameses, so everyone calls me Telly.  I do customer support work."

FYI, out of town for the next few days.

Telly was searching behind the mirror when the voice spoke up through the mirror.  He thought nothing of it at first, likely one of the people stuck in the closet with him was speaking up.  But he came around the mirror just in time to see a hand poke through the surface.  It surprised him enough that he stumbled back and bounced against one of the shelves, where he rested as a few of the others took the woman up on her offer.   As they stepped through the portal, the technician edged around the room until he could see the mirror itself.  He finally acknowledged what had been lingering in the back of his mind: that the image in the mirror, while still showing the same room, had marked differences.  It was dusty, empty, and disheveled, other than the odd Asian woman and his three former closet compatriots.  It was clear that no harm had come of the others; had the mirror been backed against a wall, Telly would have been convinced that someone had cut a hole through the sheetrock.   He reached out tentatively, letting his fingers slip through the opening.  He half expected a Matrix moment, where liquid glass rippled like the surface of a puddle, but the space beyond was as open and clear as it looked.  With half a feeling of excitement and half of dread at the sheer stupidity of his actions, Telly stepped through the portal into the area beyond the looking glass.  He glanced about in wonder, taking in the littered floor and dusty shelves.  Then he sneezed.