> Daves: Hang out. (Fourth wall shenanigans, ahoy!)

[striderismo]

[ The video feed opens to Dave, wearing remarkably less clothing than anybody last saw him in - just jeans and a t-shirt, in fact. No bulky coat, no Torchic body heater. Notably, there's no snow anywhere in sight, either - just rock walls, flickering with the light of a sizeable campfire

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[practicaster]

[And hark, the sound of light footsteps in the shadows beyond the light of the campfire! Which is strange, because there doesn't seem to be anything particularly visible in those shadows. And come to think of it, there seems to be one section of shadows that's particularly hard to look at; try as you might to focus on it, your gaze just seems to slip right away. Strange, that.

Equally strange is that the shadows seem to be muttering.]

Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me right now, did I seriously end up in another cave. Is this just a thing. Am I just doomed to end up in every single fucking cave from here to Timbuktu every time I fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck fucking fuck on a fuck sandwich, this is the worst vacation ever.

[It appears the shadows also have a highly colorful vocabulary.]

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[striderismo]

[ Dave #4 searches the shadows over the fire. ]

Fucking... - hey. [ He grabs the attention of the nearby Dave #3. ] What's that thing Jade talks about sometimes? Makes it so you don't wanna notice something?

[ Dave #3 is quiet for a beat before he answers: ] Perception filter.

[ With a nod toward the shadows, Dave #4 directs #3's gaze over there. They both examine the shadows in critical silence, which #3 eventually breaks. ]

... Huh.

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[practicaster]

[Uh-oh. By then, the entity in the shadows has advanced far enough and started paying attention enough to notice she's been spotted. And it figures it'd be in a cave, too-definitely not her arena of choice for a fight, given the amount of collateral damage she tends to cause when she throws down with someone. But given that none of the other idiots seem to be around, at least that means she stands a chance of talking her way out of this first, before it ever comes to that.]

You know, Agent Smith, I wouldn't have taken you for a cave and campfire kind of guy. Isn't a fancy restaurant and a nice juicy steak a little more your style?

[He's wearing jeans and a t-shirt. That means he's either a particularly clever enemy, one who knows about her world, or no enemy at all. First step, then, is to see if he's got the culture to back it up.]

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[striderismo]

Only if you're paying. Ask Neo, he always has to pick up the check.

[ It's Dave #3 who answers, as Dave #4 vanishes and reappears in the blink of an eye, now wearing a bright green suit. ]

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[practicaster]

[Oh, shit. That disappearing act is not a good sign...and yet there's something about this guy that rings sincere. Maybe it's the cave. Maybe it's the banter. Maybe it's just that she wants to believe for once that the mysterious stranger crossing her path isn't out to slaughter her.

Maybe it's the shades. Now there's one element of style that Ye Olde Ancients never managed to appreciate.]

Hey, if I'm paying, then fuck the fancy restaurant, we're hitting the first place I see with a dollar menu and wi-fi.

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[striderismo]

[ Both Daves respond favourably to that - #4 impressively vanquishes a smile, while #3 snorts and says: ] Yeah, all right. I'm a cheap date.

[ Daves the First and Second are attentive now, too, but not interfering. They keep counsel some several feet away, quiet. ]

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[practicaster]

[And she reads that favorable response as her cue to finally step from the shadows-still quite difficult to focus on, simply by virtue of the hooded black cloak of shadows she's wearing, but she's not actively trying to stay unnoticed anymore, which makes things a little easier.

And lo and behold, it is a girl: bright red hair, inky black cloak, sweatshirt and cargo pants, knee-high goblin-stomper boots with treads three inches thick and spikes set into the heels. She might actually be rivaling Dave #4 for "worst-dressed person in this cave" at the moment.]

That makes two of us. [There's a moment of hesitation that she doesn't bother to hide, and then:] World's stupidest question, though, bear with me: where the hell are we? Besides a cave, I mean, I kind of got that part on my own.

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[striderismo]

[ Dave #4, quietly: ] She must be new.

[ Dave #3 cocks a skeptical eyebrow at her boots as he speaks. ] I think the address is 'a fucking cave, Mt. Mortar, Johto, the magical land of Pokémon.'

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[practicaster]

[The reaction is instantaneous.]

Bullshit.

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[striderismo]

[ A ripple of amusement circles the four of them - not precisely audible, but recognizable nonetheless.

Dave #4 turns toward the fire and starts preparing to roast a hot dog while #3 carries the conversation. ]

Right? Seriously, though. [ He thumbs a Pokéball from his belt and releases a Ninetales, who stretches lazily, then migrates closer to the fire. ]

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[practicaster]

[Okay, the weirdness factor of this moment has officially hit critical levels, which means that's her cue to start mentally running through all other possible explanations for this. She's dreaming. She's trapped in a mind game. She's finally gone off the deep end (again).

Except that none of it really seems to explain these guys and this campfire and the Ninetales that has just joined their merry crew, and if there's one person who knows all too well that sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction, it's her.]

...He fucking sent me to Pokemon land. [Beneath the cloak, her shoulders fall slightly, and she laughs once in exasperation.] I always knew that crotchety old bastard had a sick sense of humor.

[Shaking her head a little, she comes a little closer to the fire, looking less apprehensive about the four Daves and a little more personable.]

So who are you? You haven't offered to teach me Headbutt, so I know you're not one of the friendly neighborhood NPCs.

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[striderismo]

[ #3 shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets, while #2 and #1 in the background disappear and reappear in quick, blink-and-you'll-miss-it succession, returning each time with something new - graham crackers, chocolate, toasted coconut marshmallows, and an entire economy-sized crate of apple juice boxes. ]

Strider. Dave. Showed up here a while back, was kinda in the middle of something important back home, but whatever.

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[practicaster]

[Oh, god. Real food. Supermarket food. It's a good thing she's feeling a little attached to you and your pop culture references, Dave, or she might be tempted to kill you where you stand and loot your body for those graham crackers.]

You should've left it at 'Strider'. Then I would've believed you were secretly the true king of Gondor and given up my Elvish immortality for you and everything.

[Meanwhile, a battle is raging in her mind between maintaining pride and holy christ are those juice boxes.]

Can I...have one of those?

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[striderismo]

Offer me your Elvish maidenhood and we'll talk.

[ Dave #3 beckons to #1, who seems to debate a moment before tossing a pair of juice boxes over. #3 tosses one over to her. ]

They starve you in Rivendell, or what?

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[practicaster]

That'd be pretty generous of me, considering. How about the four of you throw down in a cage match and I put out for the winner? Then at least I get something out of it, too.

[She's got the straw pushed in through the foil and is sucking it down almost before she's actually caught the thing, drinking like she's afraid it'll disappear if she delays too long; it isn't until she's halfway through the box before it occurs to her to stop and actually savor it, instead.]

God, I haven't seen prepackaged food in almost half a year. High fructose corn syrup, never leave me again.

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[striderismo]

[ There's that faint wave of amusement again, as at least two of the Daves glance at the garishly-dressed fourth one. ]

Not exactly a fair fight. [ Dave #3 sips at his juice box a little more sedately. ] One of us has four inches and like fifteen pounds on any of the rest of us, and one of us is only two months out of practice. [ He casts a glance at Dave #2, who sits up a bit straighter and smirks. ] ... But is also way too young to be collecting his prize.

[ Dave #2 scowls slightly, then ducks away, smacking at the encroaching hands of #1, who tries to pinch his cheeks. ]