Dele is a terrible enabler, you know

[try_tobe_good]

A young man somewhere between 16 and 20, dressed in a plain white button-down shirt and khakis, with dark hair that's just a touch long flopping over his forehead, steps out into the street. Or more accurately, somebody who currently has such an appearance steps out into the street

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[narcosi]

Some feet away, a Caucasian woman is sitting at a cafe table, legs crossed; a bored expression, as she looks at the new arrival, is the only indication she has noticed him. But she watches for seconds long enough to notice the strange twitch of his fingers - the poor sap, he has just caught the interest of a mad woman.

She seems oddly calculating (if Orlando notices her), weighing her options and deciding a proper response, and then, she removes her sunglasses, placing them on her head. But the fashion magazine she is reading does not get set down yet. As evidence by her impeccable clothing, fashion is important and probably more important than the lost boy in front of her.

"Do you need help?"

[try_tobe_good]

Orlando doesn't notice, actually. He's going through a few other commands, fingers moving accordingly. Nothing's working. It seems he's lost contact with Beezle. As he tries another command, he discovers something even more worrying. He's lost contact with his body. He tries to disconnect, but isn't exactly surprised when it doesn't work. Is he even online? Maybe he's dreaming. But-

So he's understandably jumpy when the woman speaks, turning sharply and almost losing his balance. He looks at her warily. But he does need help. "I think I'm lost."

[narcosi]

"You're new to Xanadu," she says. She lives in this city. She knew this was the first time he has been in the city the moment she saw him - new arrivals are easy to pin; they all have that bewildered expression and the tendency to ask pointless questions. Usually, they aren't this interesting, though.

[try_tobe_good]

"Xanadu?" Was it some kind of upgrade of Treehouse? But they didn't abduct you into Treehouse...

He glances around again. Even the programmers in Treehouse couldn't make something this real. He must have fallen asleep.

[somewomanking]

Not far away, there's a girl - closer to the sixteen side - with a cigarette behind her ear, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that says "Costello's" on it, an apron fisted in one hand. She looks singularly unimpressed by her surroundings, especially since she finally just got off work and she'd like to enjoy an afternoon of peace and quiet for once this summer.

Zillah regards Orlando for a moment, with her free hand resting on her hip. He looks about as lost as she feels, although she's been here for about a half an hour - just long enough to ascertain she's not dreaming. Time is moving too smoothly, and she always knows how to interact with a dream.

"This," she observes, some resigned exasperation tinting her tone, "is not London."

[try_tobe_good]

"Of course-" Orlando begins to snap automatically, distracted by trying to think of commands he hasn't tried, but he clamps down hard on the words. He doesn't exactly have the high ground here.

He frowns again, and looks more intently at the girl. "London?" Why would she think that in the first place?

[somewomanking]

Her accent might be more of a tell - she's British by way of Peckham Rye, so it's not the super-posh kind, either. "London. Where I was about thirty minutes ago before I was here. Look, d'you know a way out of this place?"

[try_tobe_good]

"You mean the real-" This is all wrong. The place looks way too good for any gear that exits to have made, and now there's a girl saying she got here from a real city? It's utterly scanning. Unless he's dreaming.

"I don't even know where I am," he says, in honest exasperation.

[cold_magdalen]

"Sir?" Because she is going to talk to people goddammit.

[try_tobe_good]

It's beginning to sink in to Orlando that if somebody coded this place, they're using tech far above anything he knows of. It looks real-

He starts a bit, and turns. "What?" he says. Not the most gracious response, but it's pretty clear he's a little distracted.

[cold_magdalen]

Magda steels herself and asks, "Are you lost?"

[try_tobe_good]

"Yeah, I-" He must be dreaming. "I think I am."