Vydahlia Thyme & Aeviel Pineroz
Location: Bus|Tags: Artana, NPCs; Open
“Yallo” Aeviel greeted as he sat down across from Artana. “I’m Aeviel. What a fowl day we’re having, eh? Get it? Because Gladstone and Goose Man and Goosefeather? Oh what am I doing. Ahem. What’s your name again?” He mentally facepalmed at his failure. He never had much practice interacting with people and now he regretted it. He was probably going to be stuck with this group of misfits for a long time and he didn’t want to make the wrong impression. Artana probably didn’t even want to talk to him.
“Argh,” Aeviel muttered under his breath.
Meanwhile, Lia struck up a conversation with the blonde haired man, who told her his name was Ezra Fell. She thought that was a strange name, but since she was literally hanging out with a man dressed like a goose and a sentient sock, she couldn’t really argue. They were discussing classic literature when a knife suddenly hit the seat, two inches away from her face.
“Ach! What was that for?” She complained, frowning.
“I’m just bored” One of the men previously arguing replied nonchalantly. The knife twitched, as if glitching in and out of existence before flaying back to the man’s hand. “The name’s Anti. That’s Dark, Mad, and Mare.” He introduces the others around him.
“Uh, okay. I’m Lia. So. No offense, but, like are you characters, creators, or people?”
“Do ya want the technical answer or the one I’d like to say?”
“I think I’ll take the technical answer, thanks.”
“Then ask Mad. He knows theses things.” Mad rolled his eyes at the comment but proceeded to explain anyway. Everyone was bored out of their minds, and that’s part of why they started arguing in the first place. Talking to some random girl and having a chance to flex his knowledge didn’t sound too bad to Mad.
“Well, we’re actually fan adaptations from a fanfiction on the Archive. So, we are characters, yes.”
“That’s just a normal answer. It’s not
that technical.” Lia was a bit surprised at the ‘Archive’ part. He was probably referring to Archive of Our Own, the illegal underground collection of fanworks that empower indie writers to delve into the world of writing for the first time. You can only get in via invites, and those were super hard to get. She wondered who wrote a fanfiction so deep enough that the characters could literally come to life. “Anyways, do you know where we’re going? And do you guys have 500 bananas?”
Meanwhile meanwhile, a thousand kilometers in the distance, a few mind controlled characters planted landmines where the bus would eventually drive.