what once was mine.
Lena Austen has been turned into her six-year-old self. It was a shock to wake up and discover she was no longer a woman in her twenties and instead, the child version of her. She's retained enough memories to recognize people from her adult life, but her mannerisms and her way of thinking are now that of a six-year-old. It's quite a dilemma. That'
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It is his lot in life, apparently.
So he clanks his way over, pushes up his visor, and gives her a small smile. "Everything alright here, miss?"
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It's not directed at Flack, and mostly directed at the situation, but she gives him a small, almost apologetic smile as she tries to remove the leaves from her hair, looking quite frazzled about the whole thing. Mazes? Not as much fun as they sound.
"I'm fine. Sorry for--" her voice cuts off as they're swallowed into the rabbit hole.
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Flack isn't sure what he should be expecting, but there's a sudden falling sensation, and then a thump! as they both hit the ground. Well, in his case, it is more of a thump-clank!.
He groans, pushing up his visor again before his eyes go to the person who had been next to him. "You alright?"
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Whenever they speak, a speech bubble pops up above their heads. Like in--Rachel's eyes widen.
It would seem, dearest Flack, you find yourself in a comic book now.
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His voice trails off as he notices the speech bubbles above their heads, and then turns and looks around. Something is very, very off about all this, and if he hadn't been stuck in armor for a week, he would be much more excited about this.
Yes, Flack is a giant nerd on the inside. He's allowed.
Still, there's only one response for something like this. "What the hell?"
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Everything looks comic-y. The buildings and the landscapes and the general outlook of everything. It's much more of a drawing than real life, and Rachel does not even know what to think anymore. She grimaces at his question and shakes her head, moving toward him.
"Now I'm wishing I'd brushed up on my Frank Miller."
She lightly places a hand on his arm. "Do you think you can take that off here?"
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Flack's got his own kind of luck, but he doesn't think it falls in line with Chicago's idea of luck. In fact, he doesn't think his ideas of anything fall in line with Chicago's.
But still -- he makes the effort to take it off just in case -- and fails almost miserably.
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She hadn't wanted to get his hopes up, it just doesn't look very comfortable, and whether he is a stranger or not she would've wanted to help.
Rift, this is not just a bout of unluck, it's cruel.
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He's used to it, for the most part.
"It happens. Right now I think we should be more concerned with findin' our way back to Chicago."
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She scratches the back of her head, trying to find a way to put it nicely. "I've been falling through these kind of all day. There's... no way of getting back until it decides to send... you back."
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"Of course there isn't. This is Chicago, after all."
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"At least you've got company?" she asks, with a smile that's meant to be reassuring.
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He glances around, starting to get a feel for the surroundings, before glancing back to her. "But if I know my comic books? We should start moving."
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There will have been chases and maybe even a Joker or two, but they would've been given superpowers to fight and save the day.
And they'd have made it out alive! We promise.
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