A Secondary Sim within the Matrix, Thursday
The way Alana saw it, the fight she'd gotten into wasn't really her fault. She'd been minding her own business in whatever creepy 1950s sitcom world she'd woken up in the day before. (Okay, so maaaaybe she'd tried to climb a tower, but could you blame her? They were right there!)
Anyhow, an alien pointed a blaster rifle at her, she took a swing at him, and now she was here. In some neon-and-chrome colored gift shop with a giant watch on the wall and way too many bins of penny candy built into the counter. Startled, Alana took a step back into a giant freestanding display of charms and keyrings -- and sent them clattering to the ground.
"There's one way to get our attention," said a chubby, friendly looking-girl who had bustled over to clean up. "But next time, you could just ring the bell and tell us what you're looking for."
Dimly, Alana heard disembodied laughter. She couldn't put together where it was coming from.
She licked her lips. "Where am I?"
"Okay, maybe you hit your head on that display a little harder than I thought," the chubby girl said, and the laughter pealed again to unsettling effect. "This is Over Our Heads,formerly Edna's Edibles. You want an inflatable animal or a new wave album, you're in the right place."
"Um, I want --"
Before Alana could explain, two other girls came in.
"Natalie, tell Blair she's out of her gourd again," said the tougher-looking of the two, a brunette in a motorcycle jacket.
"Hold that thought," Natalie told Alana, and then turned to the blonde. "Blair, you're out of your gourd again. Now what's going on?"
Blair tossed her cloud of wavy, well-moussed hair. "Jo just doesn't appreciate my latest brilliant idea."
As the girls bickered -- and they were quickly joined by a fourth, a short brown-skinned girl in a loud plaid blouse -- Alana crept slowly backward. "Maybe I can get out of this place without them paying any more attention," she muttered.
And then she stepped on some kind of toy guitar that played loud synthesizer noises when touched.
"... or, maybe not."
[OOC: Open to anybody who wants to join the 80s sitcom wonderland!]
Anyhow, an alien pointed a blaster rifle at her, she took a swing at him, and now she was here. In some neon-and-chrome colored gift shop with a giant watch on the wall and way too many bins of penny candy built into the counter. Startled, Alana took a step back into a giant freestanding display of charms and keyrings -- and sent them clattering to the ground.
"There's one way to get our attention," said a chubby, friendly looking-girl who had bustled over to clean up. "But next time, you could just ring the bell and tell us what you're looking for."
Dimly, Alana heard disembodied laughter. She couldn't put together where it was coming from.
She licked her lips. "Where am I?"
"Okay, maybe you hit your head on that display a little harder than I thought," the chubby girl said, and the laughter pealed again to unsettling effect. "This is Over Our Heads,formerly Edna's Edibles. You want an inflatable animal or a new wave album, you're in the right place."
"Um, I want --"
Before Alana could explain, two other girls came in.
"Natalie, tell Blair she's out of her gourd again," said the tougher-looking of the two, a brunette in a motorcycle jacket.
"Hold that thought," Natalie told Alana, and then turned to the blonde. "Blair, you're out of your gourd again. Now what's going on?"
Blair tossed her cloud of wavy, well-moussed hair. "Jo just doesn't appreciate my latest brilliant idea."
As the girls bickered -- and they were quickly joined by a fourth, a short brown-skinned girl in a loud plaid blouse -- Alana crept slowly backward. "Maybe I can get out of this place without them paying any more attention," she muttered.
And then she stepped on some kind of toy guitar that played loud synthesizer noises when touched.
"... or, maybe not."
[OOC: Open to anybody who wants to join the 80s sitcom wonderland!]