[open] come ride with me to the distant shore

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[open] come ride with me to the distant shore

A minute ago, this was a silent Chicago side-street, sitting there empty as the sun set.

Now, there's a very nice, very fast, very expensive sports car screeching to a stop in the middle of it.

Seconds after the car actually stops, without bothering to turn it off, Abigail Eddings swings her door open and climbs out, swearing under her breath as she pulls herself to her feet -- and then stops short, realizing that that blinding flash of sudden light? That was not one of her competitors coming at her with blinders on, no. That was apparently the sun suddenly reversing itself and coming back out.

And the buildings changing and coming to surround her.

And the checkpoint she had been only feet from pulling into -- first, for only the second time in two months -- disappearing.

"That's not fair," is all Abby can think to say after a moment of silence, nearly shouting, her hands balling into fists and her wings coming to curl in close. She's managed to get this far; there were only two other racers left, and she was winning. Without winning the race, they'll never show her how to get home -- if what they said is true, if they even have a way to get her home, but she has to hope because otherwise --

It's about there that she actually takes a second look at the skyline and realizes that it's incredibly familiar. It's been six month since Abby's seen Chicago; it was an alternate-universe Seattle she'd found herself in, and the race hadn't come here. Not yet, anyway. So maybe ... maybe?

It seems like too much to hope for, as she moves cautiously towards the end of the street, shouting in the hopes that maybe someone will be there to listen. "Hello? Anybody? Can I get some help here? I'm a little lost."

She should probably put her wings away, in case this is another world that doesn't really have any angels in it -- but she doesn't, still hoping almost despite herself that she might be home again.

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Mark ran into Abby when she was healing people during the meteors. He is walking down the street, thinking through about a hundred things (like always) when he hears her voice. It breaks him out of his thought process.

"Hey, I'm... here. It's me! Mark. Uh, we met during the meteors, but I don't really... remember if we introduced ourselves or not. It was kind of a rough time for everybody. I feel like names and introductions would have gotten all lost in the everything of the... everything."

He makes a slight face. It's nothing he's really dealt with at all, hwo he felt and what happened during that disaster, but there's no time to do it now. He walks over toward her.

"...do you need some help?

She only met Mark the once, so he's not the most familiar face -- but he's familiar enough that she lights up when she sees him, hope radiating off of her. The meteors. That happened here, someone knows her here, so isn't the simplest explanation that this is the right Chicago after all?

"Um. Kind of," she answers slowly. "I'm sort of. Not sure where I am. Or... when I am, anyway?" She gives him a small smile, taking a few steps closer and wrapping her arms around herself. "I... I remember you, though. I'm Abby."

Mark smiles back at her easily. He's a friendly guy, and he's happy to see a friendly face at the moment. It's about all it takes for him to smile if the narration is being honest.

"...oh, did.. you fall through one of those temporary Rift-things to some other world for awhile?" It's been happening a lot, and he researches the Rifts so he knows how all of that works. Well, he doesn't know the hows exactly which is part of the reason for so much research, but he knows... what happens. "Hi, Abby. I'm Mark. I'm glad you remember me. I know it was... not the best time to meet with the meteors and the monsters and you..."

Nearly having fainted from all that healing of people.

She laughs a little as he trails off, nodding. "Not really anyone's best, yeah," she agrees. "I guess this probably isn't the best time either, though. Sorry. My timing's been terrible lately."

She doesn't sound particularly apologetic, but it's not because she's not, exactly. It's just being crowded out, everything is being crowded out, by the sheer, overwhelming relief. It's obvious, on her face, in her voice -- even with the rough few months, Abby's still really bad at not wearing her every emotion on her sleeve, unless she's actively putting on a poker face. Or crime is involved. She can do it then. But we digress.

The point is, Mark, we're sorry if she starts crying on you a little before this conversation is over. She's trying not to!

"Oh, uh, yeah," she answers the initial question belatedly, taking a few steps back towards the car, until she can lean against the hood. "I fell through one of those Rifts. I didn't know temporary ones existed. Do they... do that a lot?"

"Having really good timing is... overrated," Mark says with something of a smile as he looks over at Abby. "No being sorry. Seriously. It's not like I was in the middle of anything important."

He smiles at her at the sight of that relief, and he's the same way where his emotions are really easy to see on his face. It's just who he is as a person.

And Mark is one of those people that aren't really made uncomfortable about tears either. He's a marshmallow in that sense.

He moves over toward her, leaning against the car next to her. "They do actually especially in Chicago and especially lately. They can take you for months and months or they can take you for a day, and you can be in those other places for an hour to years. It's... really scary."

She leans towards him a little, till her arm is brushing against his, her wings held back so they don't knock into his back. If she knew him any better, she would probably be full-out leaning against him, but she doesn't, and she doesn't know how he would take to it.

"Yeah," she agrees, swallowing hard as the implications of it hits her. He made it sound like the meteors weren't too long ago, so she's comforting herself with that, but -- it could have easily ended up being years. On either side of the rift. "Why lately? I -- I'm not asking you, I know no one knows why the rifts act like they do, just. I wonder why it's been bad now. If there is a reason."

Mark leans into her too. It's instinct for him, and he wraps an arm around her side, narrowly avoiding the wings that she has out in the process.

"I'm really sorry. I know... it's rough. Well, I assume it is. I've never fallen through myself, but. I don't know if you want a drink or some food. I work at the Crowbar, and we serve both, and I'd give you a whole meal and whatever you wanted to drink for free," he says as he looks at her with concern. "Oh, well, it's that the Rifts are more active and continuing to be more active over time so the more active they are, the more frequently you'll see Rift activity of any kind. Like... the kind you experienced. Chicago is the highest place in the world for Rift activity so then you have... a higher chance of falling through being in this city than if you lived anywhere else in the world. However, the perks of living in Chicago usually outweigh the rest for all of us and..."

There's a pause of hesitation.

"I'm rambling. A lot. This is.. my area of study."

She tucks herself into him gratefully and rests her head on his shoulder, a very quiet murmur of "Thanks" coming as almost an afterthought. She closes her eyes, taking in a breath, just enjoying the feel of safety, of somebody being close, and of not having to worry that they'll stab her in the back -- maybe literally.

The race was an exercise in not trusting the people around her, and while Abby probably needed to learn that lesson (or at least start to), it might have been the hardest thing she's ever had to do. This is what she's needed, more than almost anything else -- and the other thing she needs, she'll have as soon as she gets home again.

She listens attentively, even though her eyes are closed and she's nearly sagging into him, and she smiles when he mentions that it's his area. "Go ahead and ramble," she encourages with a little laugh. "It's fascinating. Kind of scary, sometimes, I mean, it wasn't before, but now that it's not just something that happens but something that can happen to me and who knows if it might happen again -- I guess a lot of people get that," she muses, and takes a breath. "Still interesting, though. I don't mind listening. Food would kind of be nice, though," she adds, lifting her head up a little so that she can see him. "It -- I can pay, it doesn't have to be free, but I haven't had something I couldn't eat with one hand on the wheel in a while. I can drive? I've been to the Crowbar before, but it was only once, so you might have to tell me how to get there."

Mark keeps her close to him as he watches her, and there's no worry of being stabbed in the back at all with him. He is one of those really fluffy people.

That has issues with easily trusting people himself. It's a thing, but it's one of those things that would help you survive to lose, but it'd also- it'd also just suck to have to lose it.

He smiles back at her a little, lifting her up when he feels how she nearly sags into him. "It's really scary, really fascinating too though you're right, but it's also... very scary as you said. Sometimes I think I study it all in some attempt to douse all that fear, but it doesn't really work cause what I learn ends up being... more... scary. Uh, thank you though for the permission to ramble though. I do that... a lot," Mark says with a small smile, and he nods before he shakes his head.

"No offense, but you look like you're having some issues... standing at the moment. I don't mind driving or it's... seriously just down by the corner here, and the food is free! No questions asked. It's like if I invited you into my house and asked you to pay when I gave you some food." He laughs shaking his head as his hand slides behind his neck. "The Crowbar is... my home."

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