[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?

Pulling up alongside your very nice, very fast, very offensive sports car is ... a wiener mobile. If anything, Abby, that should be a big indicator that you're home.

Shawn's head pokes out the driver's side window when he sees her, flashing her a smile as he does so. The narration can't remember if they ever met, but he seemed to be as good a welcome wagon as any.

"Hi. What can I help you with?"

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."

Abby has seen, and driven, a lot of different cars the past couple of months, some of them more unusual than others. But the wiener mobile still takes the cake.

She starts moving back towards it when she turns and sees the vehicle, plucking at the edge of her gloves nervously. "Do you have the date?" she requests hopefully, smiling at Shawn. "I'm... kind of lost."

"Sure do," he says with a nod, before glancing down at his watch. "It is June 9th. About noon. And you're in Chicago, if that helps."

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.

Nikola had been wandering the sidewalks, trying to piece together his various thoughts and theories regarding his fall through the rift, the chances of finding a way back. But his mind keeps drifting back to Helen.

He's been avoiding her, typically staying only close enough to observe. She's unsettled, has been since he arrived, and that unsettles him. Enough to interfere with his thinking.

Still, it's hard to miss the suddenly appearing sports car or the young woman who seems rather unhappy about...something.

"Aren't we all?"

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?"

"Yeah. It does."

June 9th. That's not when she left, but that's not as long as she thought it had been -- whether that's a good thing or a bad thing, exactly, she's not sure.

"Thanks." She pats her pockets lightly, fingering the edge of her wallet and giving the vehicle a contemplative look. "So do you just drive that for the aesthetics, or are you actually selling hot dogs?"

She crosses her arms, blinking a little at the non-answer as she moves towards the speaker. "...No? Well. Depends on who 'we' is, anyway. ...Are?" She contemplates that for a second before shaking her head, trying to get back on track. "Why, are you lost?"

He studies her, something like amusement briefly overriding his frustration. "Depends on your definition of lost."

"And you are...?"

"Right now I'll go with 'not knowing where or when you are', but I'll take something more metaphorical if you can give me that information?"

She smiles slightly, taking another small step forward. "Well, hoping this is Chicago, among other things." Her wings twitch forward a little as she reaches out a gloved hand. "I'm Abby Eddings, who are you?"

"Not selling so much as sharing," he grins. "I don't charge for the hot dogs. After all, most of the time it's Wanderer who's just fallen through and I never did work out the exchange rate between my Chicago and this Chicago." It's easier just to give them away.

That, and Shawn is a nice guy, but that's neither here nor there.

"Can I get you one?"

He flashes her a grin. "I've figured out the when and where. Still working on the why." And the how to get back, but that does not seem to be the best topic around here.

Nikola stares at the offered hand a moment before shaking it firmly. "Nikola Tesla. And if it's Chicago you're looking for, I think you may have found it."

"The why seems to be up for debate," Abby agrees, relaxing a little, her smile growing sympathetic. She understands better now than ever before just how frustrating that fact can be, after all.

"That's -- that's good to hear," she says quietly, closing her eyes for a second as she lets go of his hand. "Didn't think I'd be seeing this place again. Not the right one, anyway."

The quiet passes, though, after a moment. There's not much that can keep Abby from being bouncy for long -- even, apparently, being trapped in another world -- and she brightens as she look at Nikola again. "Have you been here very long?"

"I wonder if anyone's tried figuring that out yet," she muses, mostly to herself, laughing a little. "Money differences between universes. Sounds like it could be some Angel of Knowledge's pet project. Anyway, that's really neat, that you do that."

She nods, smile bright and grateful. "Yeah, that would be really great. Thanks."

He shrugs. "Sometimes people just need a little pick me up. The Rift causes too much damage as it is."

Sometimes it's good to give a little back.

"How do you want it?"

"You want to be here?" He eyes her curiously. "Native? Or oddly loyal former resident?"

He isn't entirely certain how he feels about the cheer, accustomed to darker company. When he had company outside of his own. "Not even a month."

"Onions and mustard and lots of ketchup?" she asks hopefully, moving closer. She can't help but try and peer into the back, like a little kid might with an ice-cream truck. Acting like a grown-up is, as far as Abby's concerned, something that happens to other people.

"What's your name?" she asks after a second, and then grins. "Or do you prefer to be known as just the hot dog man?"

"Native. This is the first time the Rift ever decided to kidnap me. I must be incredibly lucky, to get to come back," she says, and shakes her head a little.

"How are you settling in?" Abby asks, and it's a totally sincere question, not just a casual one. Part of it's trying to take her mind off of where she just was and... basically everything the past few months have been, but she'd probably have asked even if it wasn't. "Is it very different here from where you came from?"

"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."

"Shawn," he says as he goes about fixing the hot dog. "Or the Hot Dog King. But I tend to stick with Shawn. Less braggy."

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."

"Welcome home. If only the rest of us were so lucky."

He glances around, taking in the city as he brushes his suit jacket aside, hand finding his hip. "I'm not sleeping in the street, and it isn't as different as I had hoped."

Somehow, the similarities make it more difficult to accept.

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[open] come ride with me to the distant shore

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