Intro Log

[progressmods]

Who: Everyone!
What: Your first magical day
Where: Progress City Tranport Center
When: Right now
Warnings: None planned!



[Today you found a ticket to a theme park. It seems relatively normal, except that it reads: Lifetime Parkhopper Pass to Progress City. ”The Most Magical Pocket Dimension in the Multiverse!” This is not a theme park you have ever heard of, if you live in a world where theme parks are of the norm.

For some reason you’re drawn to the ticket. There’s something… magical in this piece of paper, and you can practically hear it calling out to you, and you feel compelled to pick it up. It’s strange, but it’s a piece of paper, what’s the worst that could happen?

However, the moment you pick it up, you feel yourself being pulled. There is nothing pulling you but there is an overwhelming sensation that something is pulling you by the chest into the ground. You don’t have time to process what’s going on before you suddenly fall over, the strange feeling going away the moment you hit the ground.

It takes a few moments for you to regain your bearings, but as you look up you are suddenly hit with the fact that, wherever you were before, you certainly aren’t there anymore. It appears to be a transport station of some sort, and a very sleek and new one at that. Monorails pass by the station every couple of minutes, with small, slower moving vehicles consistently move in and out of the center.

The innermost wall, right behind where you stand, is lined with portals. It appears that you came in through this portal, but if you try to go back the way you came in, you’ll find that you are unable to enter it, no matter how hard you try.

While the realization that you are now trapped in this strange place, you will soon find that you also have a strange band strapped to your dominant wrist. No matter how hard you try to take it off, it seems like it’s stuck on there.

At least you’re not alone, along with a bunch of other people who arrived around the same time you did, there are humanoid people who seemed to be intrigued by your arrival. They’re all generally nice, but get confused if you ask them why you’re here and why you can’t leave. They will, however, happily tell you the name of the place you’re in if you ask:

Progress City.]

Comments

[itsthecount]

More like burned.

[Olaf rolls his eyes, unibrow narrowing in disgust. He already despised this probably-orphan.]

Is that just your goal, then? Disgusting and disturbing upstanding reasonable members of society?

[standingonmyneck]

[Oh, it was mutual. Not orphan though, two loving parents. Nice mate.]

I bumped into you on accident. I apologized. Then you went on. That's reasonable, how?

[itsthecount]

Because I’m the adult here. The authority figure! Which gives me power over you.

[standingonmyneck]

You threw a fit over someone bumping into you. Adult behavior worth respecting. Also I don’t even know you, you don’t even know my name, let alone my age.

[itsthecount]

As if it matters. What are you, like, seven?

[standingonmyneck]

[...Is he serious.]

...Add twelve.

[itsthecount]

I refuse to perform your mindboggling math!

[standingonmyneck]

[...He’s Kevin. An older Kevin. A more jerkish older Kevin.]

Can’t or won’t. Both completely different.

[itsthecount]

Won’t-can’t. Both. Both is good.

[standingonmyneck]

Both are bad actually.

[itsthecount]

...Which, in other words, is good. Because you think they're bad. Case closed.

[standingonmyneck]

I think the majority of the adult populace knows first grade math but whatever makes this stupid conversation end faster.

[itsthecount]

Then I suppose I'm in the minority of amazing people. Which is just fine by me, weirdo.

[standingonmyneck]

Right.

[Not. She wasn't going to get anywhere and she was getting more annoyed the longer she stuck around. Past experience in adolescence had trained her for this. Daria hardly looked phased at all anymore. But she wanted to be gone.]

Are we done here? As my life has truly be enriched by your presence, I need to make up the long precious five minutes wasted.

[itsthecount]

Fine. I’ll go. But first...

[a beat.]

I demand applause.

[standingonmyneck]

[With no hesitation.]

I don't really feel like using all ten of my fingers. I just want to use one.

[itsthecount]

[right over his head, it goes:]

That is an insufficient number for clapping, I would think.