This is a crossover between Miranda-22 and The Other Place. Invite-only; if you’d like to join, please TG me and Miranda-22.
Through means not well-understood by humanity, Pentti and I had inexplicably ended up in a bit of a pickle.
“I’ve a feeling we’re not on Earth anymore,” Pentti said.
“Yeah… I have a similar feeling,” I told him.
We were standing in the middle of a highly futuristic bazaar. All around us, voices screamed out the prices of various goods, shouting slurs at salespeople and cursing the names of various stores. It must have been one giant floor, going on seemingly endlessly, like a Walmart or Amazon warehouse straight out of hell.
I looked up. I couldn’t see the ceiling, although I knew it must have been there. The sheer size of this location, combined with the moisture in the air had produced a sort of microclimate, and clouds were forming right at the top. Through them, you could see faded lights, powerful enough to shine through even dense fog.
The loudspeakers dotted around us began to ring some awful ear-worm jingle, followed be an announcement in a jolly, female voice:
“Reminder to all our employees and visitors: exit port A-4 is currently shut down for repairs until late-October, 2368. The Colonial Authority apologises for any inconveniences this may cause.”
Pentti furrowed his brows.
“Colonial Authority? The hell is that?”
“How should I know?” I said. “I’ve been here just as long as you have, y’know.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Do you have to turn into a tit every time we’re in an unknown, alien situation?”
“It’s how I cope,” I said to him. “Gimme a break. Last time we got lost I was almost shot in the head by an octopus. I think I’ve earned the right to be snarky.”
Pentti’s head turned as he waved a dismissive hand at me, walking towards one of the stores.
“Wait, no, don’t leave me alone here!” I exclaimed, running after him.
“Excuse me,” Pentti asked cautiously, tapping the shoulder of one man, who was browsing a selection of whiskey bottles. “This might sound a bit strange, but could you tell us where we are?”
The man turned to face Pentti, revealing his - and I have to admit this - epic beard. Although his eyes were narrowed, as if already irritated by us, I could tell they were intense. This was someone who could give you one mean side-glance and have you give him all your lunch money. Lucky for us, we didn’t have any money at all.