Short and Sweet WTF

It’s that time again~! I can’t believe it’s been nine years already, time really does fly. This past year on the blog I’ve only posted the first roughly a quarter of the final installment in my astrology series, Kawaii Sky. By design, this is a set of micro stories that can be read independently, but to celebrate the blogiversary, I’ve decided to share a longer version of the prologue that I eventually cut to better fit in with the “short and sweet” style.

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CHER: Well it’s a pleasure to meetcha, Sophie. So what brings you to the Liminal City?

YOU: The what now?

CHER: …Stellalune?

YOU: Never heard of it.

CHER: What… never… but that’s… that’s unheard of! It shouldn’t be possible–it’s NOT possible!

YOU: Clearly it is.

CHER: No, you don’t understand. Stellalune is an interdimensional space; time, matter, energy–even existence itself–are all fluid here. At one point in spacetime, you could bake a triple layer cake in a matter of seconds, when it might take hours just to fill a glass of water at another. Getting here requiers extensive preparation and careful planning, and even then, there’s no certainty that you’ll make the trip successfully. There have even been cases where people did manage to get here, just not, you know, in one piece.

>> You find this morbidly fascinating, but also not overly relevant to your current situation.

CHER: I’ve never heard of something like this happening in all the years I’ve been alive and let me tell you, kid, that’s a *lot* of years.

>> You don’t inquire about Cher’s age, because you weren’t raised in a barn.

CHER: So you can see why this is so concerning. People don’t just end up here like they missed their stop on the subway. It’s unprecedented. And because it’s unprecedented, I don’t know if any of the usual exits will work for you. Only the Warden would know for sure, and nobody’s seen that old coot in a goony bird’s age.

YOU: How am I supposed to leave, then?

CHER: *acting cagey* Well, realistically, with the situation being what it is, and things being what they are, and with both physics and metaphysics as confounding variables…

YOU: Just spit it out.

CHER: Short answer? You don’t.

>> You start to object, but Cher cuts you off.

CHER: BUT, youc an still ask around. This city being what it is, someone may have heard something that could help.

>> You suppose this is better than nothing.

CHER: And on that note, you’ll be wanting to take this map…

>> You take the map.

CHER: … and this compass…

>> You take the compass.

CHER: …and if you’re going to be wandering around mixing with the locals, there are a few things you outght to know about a number of individuals in particular.

[Cher scribbles furiously on a discarded napkin for several minutes.]

CHER: Now, it really is lovely to meet you, Sophie, but it’s late and all this intrigue is bad for my complexion. *preening* A rabbit needs his beauty sleep, you.

>>You didn’t know, as it happens, but you also doubt it’s really true.

CHER: There’s a charming bed and breakfast near the lighthouse–sure you’ll love it, and I highly recommend staying there.

>> You keep a tight hold on the map, compass, and napkin as Cher begins ushering you towards the door.

CHER: It really was a pleasure, Sophie, and I’m sure we’ll run into each other again…

>> You privately hope you don’t.

CHER: … so ta-ta for now, and I’ll see you around.

[Cher kicks you out of his house.]

Rather abruptly, you find yourself on the street in what seems to be a fairly respectable neighborhood of Tudor-style homes. As far as you can tell, you are the only person out this late at night and you wonder, briefly, what the crime rate is. Fortunately, you don’t have much in the way of valvables should you be mugged, but unfortunately, that also means you have nothing with which to pay for lodging. You decide to head for the bed and breckfast anyway; maybe the proprietor will take pity on you.

The map and Chers notes both do nothing to enlighten you on how to get To the lighthouse, and the compass. while it is very pretty, seems to be functionally useless. You pick a random direction and start walking. Fortunately, it shouldn’t be too hard to find a lighthouse at night, even without any directions. Unfortunately, countless wrong turns and dead ends very quickly prove you wrong.

Finally the universe (or whatever passes for it here) decides to throw you a bone in the form of a twenty-four hour coffeeshop. The door bells tinkle pleasantly as you enter; inside, it is cozy and otherwise quiet. The smell of coffee permeates the air.

There is only one other person in the cafe: a frosty. blue haired woman sitting at a table in the corner. She is gazing into the depths of her coffee with the intensity of someone who wants to avoid human interaction. You loiter near the counter in the hope that someone else will appear; after a Few minutes, your prayers are answered in the form of a (rather stylish) rabbit.

RABBIT: Can I getcha something?

You : Um, well…

BLUE HAIRED WOMAN: Put it on my tab, Clarisse. The girl needs it.

CLARISSE: Aw, that’s so sweet, Lou!

LOUISE: My name is Louise. Use it.

CLARISSE: I’ll do that as soon as you start calling me Risa like everyone else.

LOUISE: No one calls you that,

RISA: Tartly And it’s not for my lack of asking them to either. to you So, what are you drinking?

YOU: Um, espresso, if you have it.

RISA: Comin’ right up.

[An espresso appears in front of you as if by magic. It probably IS magic, as a matter of fact.]

You down it in a single shot without question or hesitation.

RISA: Geez, woman, have some mercy on your stomach!

YOU: A bit late for that.

>> Little pot of sugar and cream make a tardy appearance.

RISA: Yeah, fair enough. How’s the city been treating you so far, Sophie?

YOU: Sorry, Do I know you? I’m pretty sure I haven’t met you before, but I’m also pretty sure I didn’t introduce myself yet.

RISA: Mm, you didn’t, and you haven’t, and you don’t. But I do know you, or at least know of you.

LOUISE: *sipping their coffee* That’s not creepy at all.

RISA: I was just talking to Cher. He called me up, tanted and raved about physical, metaphysical, and statistical impossibility, and then hung up on me. Honestly he’s so dramatic.

LOUISE: *muttering into her coffee* You’d know.

RISA: *squint* Something you want to say to me?

LOUISE: Not really, no.

RISA: *still squinting at Louise but speaking to you* Anyway, the point is that I have hardly any intel, and I’m dying to know the details. Something like this happening is…

YOU: Unprecedented?

RISA: Yeah, that’s a word. Now c’mon, spill.

YOU: Well, it was late…

RISA: *rapt* Go on.

YOU: … right, like really late…

RISA: Ooo, was it the witching hour?

LOUISE: Stop interrupting.

YOU: Yeah, maybe, I don’t know.

I was working on my next book, or trying to, anyway. I was about to go get some more coffee when my phone’s message alert went off. It was just spam, but I accidentally clicked the link when I was trying to dismiss it. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a graveyard or something, on account of the obnoxious talking rabbit.

LOUISE: That’s Cher’s personality in a nutshell, yes.

RISA: A graveyard, you say? Can you describe it?

YOU: Well, I was lying in the middle of a marble walkway. There were some fancy buildings, fancy plants, a lot of fancy statuary… just fancy, in general.

LOUISE: Your books must be real bestsellers.

RISA: Oh, hush. *to you* Was there anything else?

YOU: Um, I could hear some sort of water feature somewhere?

RISA: I meant more like tombstones, crypts, other graveyard-ish things, y’know?

LOUISE: *mouthing the words ‘graveyard-ish things’*

YOU: … I think I might have seen a couple of bats.

RISA: Bats. You saw bats. And that’s all?

YOU: *defensively* It just had that ‘weird cemetery’ kind of vibe going on.

RISA: Sure, whatever you say, girlfriend. Anyway, the fancypants aesthetic could be the Winthrop’s or the Borghese’s.

LOUISE: Was the archetecture Gothic or Greek?

YOU: Definitely more Gothic.

LOUISE: Borghese’s, then.

RISA: And you know what that means.

LOUISE: It means it’s time for me to leave *stands up* Sophie, it’s been lovely to make your acquaintance; with any luck, we won’t see much of each other. Clariesse, as always, it’s been a delight.

RISA: See you tomorrow?

LOUISE: Sure, why not.

RISA: Same time, same place?

LOUISE: As if I would be that predictable.

>> She leave. You wonder what you said or did to offended her.